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{Penny's monologue}

I don't understand.

We've been through an entire war, haven't we? A whole war with countries sending out their finest to get slaughtered for the sake of some land. The troops left. And we wept. The whole world wept. Of course they did. The boys - some girls even - had gone off to France to die slowly in some muddy holes just to be buried in no-man's land in an unmarked grave.

They say war changes people. But when our troops came back, nothing had changed. 

I had a friend, Veronique, who went to war with my brother. She actually went to the trenches not even as a nurse but as a proper soldier. Dressed as a man and everything. Called herself Victor and said she was related to Ernest Hemmingway. 

She wrote to us every month about the trenches. She wasn't even the only woman there, can you belive? She said she missed my paintings and wished that I could paint her in uniform. My brother said all the boys loved her, and she could shoot better than our father. She would sing tto them about their sweethearts and remind them of home.

She died. Veronique died, serving king and country. The war memorials talk of men who gave their tommorows so that we may have our today. But what about the women? What about the boys who gave a false age to fight alongside their brothers? What about the men from the colonies who had their tommorows stolen from them, forced to fight for a country they care little about?

The 1920s, free of war and free of bloodshed, is not so different to the era before it. We vow that there will never be another war, and that times have changed. We are intoxicated by the glitter and gold and Hollywood stars and jazz music. Everything shines with sparkling champagne. All these distractions that keep our minds from our past.

But what's changed, really? Think about it. I, a lady, am stuck in the same old system. Why can't I get a well-paying job? Why can't I get respect from prospective employers? Well, I'm a woman, aren't I. And how many of our colonies have we let go? How many countries have really disarmed?

War changes nothing. War changes nobody.

_
Hi @gothicity here's my entry :) I'm not sure if I misinterpreted the character? The 20s were just after the war, so I put a lot of emphasis on it in the monologue, but I'm not sure if that's what you intended? If not then just tell me and I'll write a new one.
Thanks :)

Model/ character: Abbey Lee Kershaw/ Penelope Woodville
Intro: Penelope was born in September 1920s, in the heart of London. The roaring twenties, as they call it. She was born into an aristocratic family. Although she loved living in luxury and did feel herself superior to the lower classes, she also wanted to break free from tradition; go to work and make something of herself. Stubborn and headstrong as she may be, she did have many admirers. Beautiful blonde haired and fair skinned, she loved going for long walks and painting in the afternoons.
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