Drama: You Just Don't Understand

This is actually a series of short monologues.

Teen: (Drops some books as if he has been pushed roughly by someone passing in the hall, begins his lines as he gathers up his books.) Why do they do that God? Why do they brush past me as if they don’t even know me? Why do they act as if I don’t even exist? They talk to me when we’re at church. I’m in their youth group. When on the mission trip I was their best friend, but here at school go they ignore. God how can you put me through this? Don’t you see how much it hurts for them to acknowledge me on Sunday, but ignore me during the week? God you just don’t understand.

Wife: (Presents her lines on her knees. She starts with her emotions pretty much in control. From the first few lines it shouldn’t even be obvious what is going to happen. She stays on her knees.) I remember when we knelt together before the minister. He told me that he loved me, that he would always cherish, always protect, always hold me. He told me that I was his one and only. Now he tells me that he doesn’t love me, and he doesn’t know if he ever did. He told me it wasn’t me. He said that he simply realized that he wanted something else. (Really getting upset) Dear God, why did you let this happen? He promised to love me. Why did you let him break his word? God you don’t know what it feels like to be left. You just don’t understand what it’s like to give everything to someone and then have them reject you. God you just don’t understand!

Father: (Father like the wife should really be in control. He should not let on at all that his son gets killed in the end. The whole part of the accident should be presented very even with emotions rising with the accusations at God.) I’ll never forget the look on his face when he came home that day. He walked in and said "Dad, I’ve found her! She’s perfect." Well I went with him to look at an old beat up ’57 Chevy. It was in terrible shape, but the look in my son’s eyes told me that he wouldn’t be happy with any other car. We spent over a year working on that car. During that time we laughed and we fought. But when it was done, it was beautiful. Finally the day came. He walked up to me and asked for the keys. I smiled at him and pitched him the keys. "Drive safe." I said as he headed for the door. He stopped, turned around and said, "Thanks Dad, I love you." I’ve never been so proud. I watched that candy apple red piece of perfection back out of the driveway and I knew it was perfect. I’ve never seen such a beautiful car. (Voice drops to deadpan.) And you know, it didn’t look much different afterwards, except for the hole in the windshield where his head went through. (Builds from here..) God, why? Why? He was innocent. It was that drunk that was at fault. Why is he alive and my son dead? Why does my son have to die because of what someone else did wrong? God you just don’t get it. You don’t know what it feels like. You don’t know what it’s like to lose your only son. God, you just don’t understand!