Fiction, Monologues, Plays & More
By Chelsea Sutton
The werewolf dreads that night once a month when she is no longer herself, when the full moon appears and she turns into a monster, a hungry snarling thing that runs amok, this dark figure tearing the world apart. She barely remembers what she does during that evening, once a month, but it is in her blood. She always feels like she has torn a hole in the universe and the guilt sits on her heart like a lump of coal, pulling her down, blackening her insides.
The weeks before and after that night circle around the preparation. She plans how to keep herself restrained, how to heal from her scars, how to clean up her mess, how to be extra kind to those around her, those she thought might suffer the most from the beast if they were unlucky enough to encounter it during that one evening a month when it was in control. Her whole life circles and circles and circles around that night.
Three days before the full moon in the month of February, the werewolf hears the news: the moon has disappeared from the sky.
The newscasts circle around and around and around this news. They do a story about murders in downtown and then the next political sex scandal but then circle around to the missing moon. Where has it gone? What happens to the nighttime sky? What happens to the tides?
What happens to me, thinks the werewolf.
Three days pass and the newscasts get more panicked. The tides are all out of whack. Romantic evenings end in disappointment. Energy prices spike as the night is darker than ever.
The werewolf sits on a park bench on the night that should be the full moon. The sky is black. The stars seem terrified to show their light. She sits and waits.
She hears howling and laughter and screams from far off. People are going crazy without the moon.
But the beast doesn’t appear.
The monster, the hungry snarling thing, the dark figure in her heart – it is gone. It has stopped pacing back and forth in her chest, as it always does, every day leading up to the full moon.
The werewolf’s heart starts to constrict. It is hard to breathe. It hurts. She collapses to the ground, digging her fingers into the dirt, waiting for the monster to come. Maybe it was just late, maybe it had been sleeping, maybe it…
No. It is gone. She knows it. Her body knows it. And her heart is breaking. Her whole body is breaking.
The werewolf starts to cry. She cries and cries and cries, feeling the emptiness. There is no monster, only her. Her and her alone.
She thought it would be a weight off. She thought she’d find relief finally. She thought she’d find peace.
She lies on the grass in the park the rest of the night, looking up at the black starless sky, her hair matted with sweat and dirt, her clothing ripped and rumpled, stumbling home in the morning as she usually would after an evening of the monster, the hungry snarling…
…thing the werewolf loved the most. The thing she hated the most. The part of her that was once there, that overwhelmed her every moment…the werewolf.
Now it is just her. And her hearts breaks again and again and again. Circling around on itself, searching for the beast that is no longer there.
Circling around and around and around.
Chelsea Sutton holds a BA in Literature from The College of Creative Studies at UC Santa Barbara. Her plays have had readings and productions in Santa Barbara, New York and Los Angeles. She has participated in workshops with Skylight Theater’s Playlab and LABWorks, The Vagrancy, Brimmer Street Theatre Company’s Blueprint Series, Playground LA and Eclectic Voices. She was recently named a semifinalist in the Eugene O’Neill Playwrights Conference and PlayPenn Conference, and a finalist for the Stanley Drama Award and the Woodward/Newman Drama Award. This past year, she was a member of the selection committee for The Blank’s Young Playwrights Festival as well as served as a director and literary advisor for The Vagrancy’s Young Playwrights Contest. She is a member of the Los Angeles Female Playwrights Initiative and an Associate Artist with Rogue Artists Ensemble. Her fiction has appeared in Farmhouse Magazine, Spectrum, Catalyst, Fictionade Magazine, The Best of Farmhouse Magazine Anthology (Editor’s Choice Award), NYC Midnight, Bourbon Penn and The Cactus Heart.