Memeros

This dramatic monologue explores the tumultuous marriage between the Greek hero Jason and his wife, Medea, a sorceress, from the perspective of one of their young sons, Memeros.

By Francesca B. - Year 9

When your father is considered a hero and your mother – well, not so much a hero – it’s difficult to take a side. Pheres, my younger brother, probably thinks Dad is the hero in every story, including ours, but I’ve been having a hard time deciding… if there is a decision to be made at all. On the one hand, my mother has been through a great deal, coping with the lying, cheating and just plain dishonesty my father has shown, but on the other, she was the one who put him under a love spell, forcing him to love her.

As I said, it’s difficult.

I know I’m only ten, but waking up in the night and intruding on your mother bawling her eyes out over a large glass of red isn’t something you can just shrug at and go back to playing hide’n’seek after. You have to grow up and look out for your sibling. Seeing Pheres trudging around the house, dragging his stuffed bunny behind, with a look of sorrow on his face, is not something I enjoy. It makes me sick to my stomach. Thinking about him in that much pain makes me angry at both of them. They put us through this. They let my poor brother feel like this. What kind of parents are they? What kind of parents do they think they are? Certainly not good ones.

I don’t have much of an opinion on Glauke, the infamous mistress of my father. That word... "mistress": I learnt that from my mother after she found out about them both. She went pacing angrily through the house that night, purpose in her step. She rambled for hours whilst I held Pheres tightly as we listened from the safety of the top of the stairs. I couldn’t make out much, lots of swearing but also that word – "mistress". It intrigued me. I asked her what it meant the following day. She couldn’t contain her anger as she regaled me with the “wonderful adventures” my father had been on. I left her to it after she started talking about how Glauke’s eyes were too far apart and how she had a five-head.

I love both my parents, but constantly hearing them ranting and complaining about the other is starting to make my ears ring. I know mum feels lonely and I know she’s heartbroken, but I can’t help but think she doesn’t care – about us, I mean. I’ve been feeding the both of us, and putting Pheres to bed, whilst she sleeps, cries, drinks, cries again and then drinks… again. It’s starting to wear me down, starting to scrape away at the protective shield I have crafted, and bringing to the surface emotions I’ve been trying not to feel.