Free My Story by Marilyn Monroe, Ben Hecht Page A

for myself and thinking how cruel and unfair the world was. As a result I didn’t have any money. Even to eat, let alone to spend on presents.
    Then one day I received word from the studio that I had forty dollars coming to me. I hurried over and collected it. The cashier handed me a check for the money. I was so excited I left the studio forgetting to cash it.
    When I got off the bus in Hollywood Boulevard to do some shopping I didn’t have a dime in my purse. I went into a drugstore and ate dinner, and then I offered to pay with the check. The manager refused to cash it, but he said he’d trust me if I’d give him my name and address. I did.
    Then I went out and tried to cash the check in different places. Nobody would cash it.
    I saw a policeman looking at me; so I went up to him.
    â€œPardon me, officer,” I said. “Could you help me please? I want to get a check cashed, and I don’t know where.”
    He smiled and said, “Well, that is a serious predicament. Come along, I’ll see what I can do. What sort of a check is it?”
    â€œIt’s a payroll check,” I said, “from the 20th Century Fox studio.”
    â€œAre you employed there?” the policeman asked.
    â€œI’m not employed there any longer,” I said. “But they are still in business.”
    The policeman took me into a store. He spoke to the manager who agreed to cash the check.
    â€œSo you’re an actress,” said the policeman.
    â€œI used to be,” I said, “but, as I told you, I’m not working at the moment.”
    The manager brought the check back and said, “Would you mind putting your name and address on the back of this?”
    I did and noticed the policeman watching me write. I also looked at his face for the first time. He had dark hair and his eyes were close together.
    After doing my shopping, I stopped in a doctor’s office. I had a cold, and I had not slept for several nights. The doctor gave me a sleeping pill.
    â€œI don’t usually recommend sleeping pills,” he said, “but you’ve been having hysterics too long. A good sleep will not only be good for your cold but cheer you up.”
    I went to bed early and took the pill. I’d been sleeping for a few hours when a noise woke me. I’d never heard this sort of noise before, but I knew what it was. Somebody was cutting the screen of the bedroom window.
    I jumped out of bed and ran out of the house. I went around the side to look. A man was starting to climb into my bedroom window. I imitated a gruff male voice and called indignantly, “Hey, what are you doing there?”
    The man pulled his head out of the window and looked toward me.
    â€œGet away from here,” I shouted again in a gruff voice, “or I’ll call the police.”
    The man started toward me. I turned and ran like sixty.
    It was around midnight. I ran down the deserted suburban street. I was barefooted, and I was wearing the new style of half nightgown. It came just a little below the waist.
    I arrived at a neighbor’s house and yelled. He came down with his wife behind him. She started yelling when she saw me. I explained about the man trying to break into my bedroom and asked the neighbor to go capture him.
    The neighbor shook his head.
    â€œThe fellow probably has a gun,” he said. “Burglars usually carry them.” “He’s not a burglar,” I said. “He was after me.”
    I telephoned the police and covered myself with a quilt. The police took an hour to arrive. I went back to the house with them. They found the cut screen and footprints and everything.
    â€œWell, you scared him off,” the detective said. “You have nothing to worry about. You can go back to bed.”
    â€œBut what if he returns?” I asked.
    â€œNever happens,” said the detective. “Once a burglar is scared off the premises he’ll never return to that place.