​ The complaint

"Unit 3 is over and no more benchmarks”

 I should be happy right? Well I’m not.

 I am not usually happy when I'm in this class or sleep, one or the other.

"Do we have to do this, is there any other options"?

"No none miss Parker no other options just your monologues"

I wonder why do we have do this, how will the benefit me if I know how to write a paper about people's conversations.

"You guys have until Wednesday to have almost a completed draft in class"

I’m pretty upset at this point, I don't understand the project and on top of that I don't want to do it, I'm such a busy person I have dance, friends, family, I have a life.

This project was assigned Friday and is due Wednesday, should be enough time right.

Well seems to me like this was over night, I can with all the other homework's also I feel like I have no time to do this.

 

Friday night, the night the assignment was given instead on planning what I should do I stayed on the computer on a chat until 3 in the morning.

"Maybe I can get an extension I will tell her something is wrong"

Saturday 10:30AM "Hi Ms. Powalter this is Sophia Parker and I was wondering could I have a mini extension I don't understand this project, I have no idea about it and I don't have ugh time to do it this weekend".

12:00PM "Hi Miss Parker sorry but no one will have an extension on this project think very hard an idea should come to you then make it your own, this doesn't have to be the best ever, that's why it's called a draft.

"Well that didn't work maybe I will work on it after I come home from dance class since I don't have anything else to do.

The same day some one asked me to with them to the movies a little later on that day so I decided to work on this all Sunday since no one does anything Sunday too.

I ended up trying another excuse.

12:30 PM Sunday "Hi Ms. Powalter me again, how is your weekend going, about our monologues, may I have a bit extra time or at least the day in school to work on this, something like a work period.

2:30PM Sunday " Hi miss Parker as it was said to you earlier there is no excuses for missing work, you can try and turn in something, because something is always better than nothing.

(Long blank stare)

 

"Well since I am being forced to write this maybe I should begin to write it so I can just get it over with. Those were the exact words that left my mouth before the idea of working stepped out behind them.

Ok seems like excuses aren’t working so maybe a complaint will.

 

Monday 6:30 PM “Hey Ms. Powalter I don’t mean to bother you but, I feel like you don’t care about my situations and the reasons why I cant do this paper or at least why I cant have it in on time, I feel like this project is being forced on the students and very rushed due to the fact that we our missing two days of school next week. Also I believe that I have a small amount of carp-tunnel in the hand that I right with and I feel like you don’t care about my inner and my outer feeling’s”.

8:30PM “Hi Sophia I am sorry about your wrist maybe you should go to the doctors about that but this assignment is not written it is typed and you don’t have carp-tunnel if you are able to type this many excuses and a complaint’s about this project”.

 

Time begins to move faster, I have one night to at least have a storyboard and some of this monologue typed, there’s no more time for excuses so seems to me all there is left to do is type … After I get home from dance.

I feel like nothing worked, no excuses, no complaints, nothing worked. And I still don’t have an idea.

 

“Mom do you know something that I could write about and make a monologue of?”

“Sorry Sophia the only type of monologue I can help you with is the play”.

“How about you dad do you know anything?”

His response was “Umm remind me what’s a monologue again?”

Maybe I can get some help with this project in class tomorrow; class will be pretty helpful, reading aloud some of the winning monologues and gathering thoughts should help also…

Those were my last thought’s about this mini assignment until the night before it is due and I’m up until next morning typing nothing.

I can predict how Thursday is going to go.

 

“Hi class lets take your seats and take out you completed and printed monologue.”

“Morning Ms. Powalter, funny I found an idea to type about after all this pain with this assignment”

“I guess I will right about how “fun” and “easy” this journey was to completing this paper and how I feel about this assignment”.

 

 

  

 

 

 

 

 

Michael Hall                                                Heist                                                 

“ Arnold Hart, Parole denied”. The words echoed and sunk into my mind like a submarine but as I looked up I remembered his face. He didn’t look mad or happy but just a look of justice. “Why did I do that!” those words were more like an explosion that just blew my mind apart but I had only myself to blame. I looked at the mirror and saw that the face that committed the crime had changed. It had grown a full beard and had few more wrinkles than I remembered. It had grown up and realized what it did was stupid and wrong. If only I could rewrite time and redo my life then everything would be ok and I would have a second chance. “Why?” that word was like a cool breeze over my mind but all I could do is sit and remember. Remember what drove me to that event. The yells of other inmates  

 

It was my fourth job interview and I was sure I had it. When the call came that I didn’t get the job, I was shocked and angry. “Why does this only happen to me” I thought, not fully thinking. I was at my wits end. Bills were stacking up and debt became my worst enemy. I got a letter in the mail with the big and red word “Foreclosure”. I was alone and the thoughts of me being homeless were becoming a reality. Then I saw it, the gun I had bought to protect myself at night. It had a strange color that day like for some reason it was shinning and telling me the answer to my problem.

 

I then thought that robbing a stupid connivance store would be a good start, but they don’t have enough money so without a thought I said “A bank”. “What was I thinking?” Now looking back it was by far the stupidest thing ever. Then I saw the bank. It looked simple enough, but as life shows nothing really is. I had the gun, ran into the bank with the feeling of excitement and regrets. I don’t know where the feelings came from but they were present. Then with the gun pointing I told the man “GIVE ME THE MONEY” but I said it with manners.

 

I didn’t see the alarm button behind the counter, or the nervous banker that pressed it. Before I even knew what had happened the police were already there with a gun up yelling freeze. I didn’t know what to do or how to even act but the trigger had been pulled and a policeman was on the ground bleeding. 

“Did you start your letter for English class BJ”

No mom but I’ll go start it now.

 

Hey grandpa,

 

 I’m your grandson Billy, I just turned 11 a few days ago. Mom says we share the same birthday, which is why I’m named after you, Bill Samuel Johnson. Mom use to tell me about how you wanted the perfect grandson, someone to take to baseball games, to play catch with in the yard, and to teach how to fish in the river. I’m in the 5^th grade now I have good grade, and I love to play sports. Mom says that I’m like you when you were in school. She also tells me about how you fought in the war and won lots of medals because you were very brave. When I grow up, I want to be a soldier just like you. Mom tells me a lot about you and how you used to be there for her.

We live in the house that you raised mom in and she says that you never ever wanted a black person to set foot in this house. Why don’t you want black people in our house? My dad lives here with us in the house, I wonder what would happened if you found out he was living with us? I really love my dad, he doesn’t act different than any other white person. I have always asked mom that but she never wanted to respond to me. She always said “Baby I really do not know.” Or “Billy can you stop asking questions!” So, after a billion times of getting those answers, I just stopped asking her.

One night, I heard mom talking to grandma. She was saying how you were disappointed in her because of the type of men mom liked. She talked about how you wanted only one race in the family’s bloodline, full breed Italian. She also says that you really hated black people. My dad is black do you hate him? Because mom talks about how he tried so hard to make you like him. My dad is a great person and loves me and mom so much, he takes care of us and always will, he says.

Sincerely, Billy

P. S. Even though I haven’t met you I still love you grandpa and always will, I just hope you love me too.

 

 

 

 

Seeing your face every morning kills me. It makes me think of what we had, what I miss, how angry I am at you, how much I want you back so we can try and make this work, how much I love you… I walk by, trying to avoid looking your way in the hopes that you would even try to notice me. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t either way Rafael, you broke my heart.

  It was about a week ago that you broke up with me. I feel like you left me because I didn’t want to have sex with you. I wasn’t easy enough for you. When the topic of sex came up, I told you I wasn’t ready, only because we were only together for 3 months. Then the day after I told you that, we all of a sudden weren’t working out? You claim that you were going through so much, and that you couldn’t handle those situations and me. So am I considered one of your problems? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Even if I am not one of them, you knew that I was here for you. I’m going through that same shit you are but tried to make this work, I knew that you were here for me; well I thought you were. Its just crazy how we were close ass friends for years before we decided to be together and you promised we were going to stay close no matter what..but its obvious that you broke that promise..

  To me, that whole excuse of you “going through to much” is a bunch of bullshit that I will not believe. Do you realize how this makes me feel? Did you stop and think about how this would affect me? No, you didn’t. You thought about yourself like always. And that hurts. I was always here for you, you were all I wanted and needed. I felt like I could be myself around you. You were the only guy that ever made me feel like I mattered or had a purpose in the world, or maybe you just did that in the hopes of getting in my pants…

 My feelings are all over the place. One-minute I’m full of rage, the next I’m trying to smile and feel good about everything to get you off my mind. I’m confused. I’m confused because I am still unaware as to why this situation would even occur. Just a day ago we were all smiles and laughing, holding hands…. and now I cant stand you, I miss you, I’m in regret, part of me wants you back. I don’t know what to do with myself.

  I showed you how much I cared, you knew I had nothing but love for you; you knew that and took advantage of it. I never reveal how I feel. Not to anyone. I told you things that I have never even told my closest friends. So many deep feelings and thoughts because I thought you would listen and help me. But would you like to know what hurts the most Rafael? The fact that I thought you cared… But of course it turns out that I thought wrong.

 I don’t even blame you Rafael. I blame myself for caring too much and letting you in my life. I should have known from the start that you we’re just like the rest. I don’t know what made me even think you were different. I hope that one day, someone does this same shit to you. I want you to feel the pain that I feel. Until then, leave me alone and live your life. I was living my life before you and I’ll keep on living after you. Maybe this is me just trying to get over you, or maybe I just don't care anymore...

Either way Rafael, I will always love you...hopefully we can try this again...until then, take care.

Beautiful surroundings… beat white picket fences from my house trapping me inside my thoughts.

“I just want to be free!”

I look around my surroundings, waterfalls, sunsets, and green grass sprouting out the ground not afraid to show its identity, unlike me, I am hiding behind my own shadows.

Birds chirping, singing me that beautiful lullaby I was never told as a child

I am tired.

Not tired as in yearning for sleep but tired of my sorrows.

I guess blue, black, and red are my favorite colors because I wear them all the time.

It started when I was 7!

To young to know right from wrong but I guess I was old enough to know pain and misery, that’s all they’ve given me was pain and misery.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry!” All my life these 6 powerful words have been spit upon.  Sorrow and hurt have been stomped on, just…like… my… face.

 My parents never game a damn about me.

I was simply just a check that came through the mail.

I just want to be loved!

I stand tall like the trees, but broken down like these rocks

Fuck the rain I created these waterfalls from my tears at night.

I am an abused child.

Why am I an abused child?

No one ever told me they loved me before I laid my head down at night.

What, am I not good enough for you?

Am I only worth your anger and animosity? Bittersweet kisses planted on my cheek from your fist. I guess you love to mark your territory.

“Shit I’m doing it again!”

Constantly feeling like I’m doing something wrong but I’m the victim!

            “I just want to be free”

When I run they always find me, when I hide the lights are always being shun upon me.

                                                So here I am

Standing upon this waterfall it’s my time to go.

            No one can find me now. They would never look for someone so ugly in a place that’s so beautiful.

            I’ve only lived 17 years and though so short it feels too long I jus want be free…. and suicide seems to be the only key to that door so here I go.

 My foot loosing its grasp from the ground, eyes closed shut like the doors of freedom I am trying to open,

 I have fallen.

My last breath hits the water, my hourglass has finally ran out.

I choke, cough out my last breath, my last air bubble. It flows deeper and deeper into the water as it relays my last message to the world, “I Am Free!”

 

Laura De Jesus

Monologue

 

Why did my mother marry an alcoholic?

 

            Its 11 o’clock on a Saturday night, where I would be usually out and about with my life I’m sitting here in my living room looking at my mother cry I wonder why. (Looking at her), He does not love her, or us. She continues to stay, while he continues to beat and threaten her. Love is a two way street and she is the only one trying. Every night he comes home, drunk. Now that he does not work, he has no reason to stay sober.

She says she stays for us, but I know she knows we don't need him. He does nothing for us, buying us the things we want; he thinks that’s good enough. In reality, all I have is hatred. I get tired of seeing my mother suffer. I don't want to come home another day after school, rather be out all day and night.

Seeing him tumble and slur out words is now old. Being born and raised with an alcoholic father is not the “dream”. Crying herself to sleep every night is stressful. Not even able to complete what I need to thinking is she okay in the back of my mind, I’m tired of seeing her hurt. The bruises my mother has are invisible, but I, her daughter can see.

Being at school, and out with my friends is what keeps me sane. Out of my house, I feel safe and feel free. Once entering the place I call home it’s a nightmare, I can’t take it anymore. Feeling threatened and unknowing of what can happen next is not normal for a person of my age. Fifteen year olds are supposed to be enjoying life. So why am I sitting here in my living room crying my eyes out?

Tears rolling down my face bring back memories. (Looking at my mother) I want to love and spend time with him; I mean he is my father. But the fear has taken over me completely. I’m scared to have the knife put up to my wrist again, scared to say what I feel because of the fist coming to my face. I should not be afraid of my own father; he is one of the reasons that I am here.

I’m sitting her looking dumb, when I want is for my prayers to come true. When my grandmother was alive, everything was great, always happy and smiling. After that, is when the addiction to alcohol came along. Depression is difficult thing to over come, but we were here, why did he not come to us? Feel as though we are not good enough.

Grand mom, please, (Looking at the photograph of grandmother), I’m begging you to please help my dad. I may not feel the same way I did before, maybe I don’t feel anything towards him, but I know that he is needed and wanted by my mother. Help my father be able to get through his issues and become the same person he was before he lost job. I am begging you, make it go back to the way it was when we were all happy.

 

Honey, come down and eat dinner, we got pork chops, rice, and carrots.

Ewe.  Swine. Ugh that nasty. I hate it I hate it I HATE IT…

The nasty thick layer of meat, from the nasty little fat dirty pig. Where they lay around in the mud. It’s like lying around in their own poop. No mom for the last time I hate pork,

They eat trash,

They are dirty,

They eat poop,

 And they even eat their own throw up!

So can you please make me something better to eat?

What Leena? … Baby since when did you become Muslim?

Moms I never became nothing. I just don’t eat pork.

Like people just don’t know what they feed them pigs and then we eat them. It’s like eating our poop, nasty trash, and mud. Not only that, pigs has worms that live in their body. From all them disgusting thing they be eating. Most people don’t believe it but I do. People just are so into them pork chop, bacon, hot dog, Jell-O, that they don’t even care about what the pork has in them. But they will believe that later on in their life they would have worms living in their bodies.

Sweetie that is all non-since, some people just feel bad for the little pigs, that’s why they said that.

Mom you just don’t understand. Don’t you just ever think about what you eat?

Leena look listen I’m not gone sit here and listen to what your gone say because you is just crazy, and yes sweetie I know what pigs eat, and that’s why they are just so fat and good.

Ewwwww mom… Omg you’re so nasty.

Aha its really good you want to try it. Well I guess you would be eating just plain old rice for dinner, since you don’t want to eat this pork chop I made.

Omg mom, your just the best mom in the world. Dang pork eater. From this day on I will not eat your meat anymore. I will make my own food to eat.

Since thanksgiving is coming up sometimes this month, you better find, or make your own food to eat. Since you said you would not eat any food I make.

Whoosh, Hello mom I was just kidding you see. I was just trying to tell you that pork isn’t good for you that’s all. All i'm saying is that on thanksgiving you should just make everything out of chicken and turkey.

Leena your just something else do you know that.

Yes mom I understand, that’s why i'm your daughter and you’re gone have to deal with it.

That’s why you need to go upstairs and close your room door, before I beat the crap out of you. And I would like to enjoy my dinner without you talking about pork and how delisious it is. Than she starts to laugh.

Okay, mom I’m sorry … enjoy your Swine love you.

Now, now head on up stairs before I kill you.

Than I ran upstairs and shut my door. Just can’t believe she chased me with a fork. Now I’m sitting here starving. Ugh mom. 

To the Grave

 

Where are you that you can sting me with out fear of retaliation marksman? Making me lie in this pit of mud and rocks, the womb of the earth dyeing. Why do you wait in the shadows? Come out and face me! (Tries to stand up but falls) I see you approach me from the dark corners of my eyes and I say, stay back. Is it time to go so early? My body is still filled with rage and the adventure of youth. Has my fruit withered on the vine before harvest day? NO, this must be a dream that lies on the precipice of a nightmare. I must wipe the sleep from my eyes and cast away the warm blanket of blood. My thoughts rush through me in a harmonic hum that reminds me of a lullaby, I can’t remember its name nor want to.

 

After cursing you I manage a crawl to my gun half buried in the mud useless. I want to breathe with out filter but the air is poison. This is not war as told by the flyer and posters behind Mr. Joe’s pub. War was to between men like the knights of old. Whose escapades captivated me and encouraged me to destroy my toys for king and country. So when the war drums sounded I jumped to the call, leaving a young wife and a crying infant. Will I leave them? I thought I be back a hero some one to look up at not a statistic.

 

I want to go home and wake up from this dream, which is death. I want to go to work at the post office on this rainy Monday. Then get off from work and come into my house with the broken screen door, just in time for my favorite radio show the one with that old timely music. Then take a bath and go to sleep. I won’t have to kill or put on my mask or fear anything.  I fear my sleep will be sound however and no pinch will wake me.

I stay there in a daze for a long while. Remembering my life, what I liked about it what I didn’t. I think about you and what will it be after. Will there be tea and crumpets, family, friends, children, pets? What is it like, I feel you will soon tell me but until you do I will ponder. A casualties of world war two

Henry Poeng

Monologue

My Weird Family

I am your worse nightmare, the entity that you fear the most. I am evil, conniving, relentless. Chuck Norris checks for me under his bed every night, but i’m not there.   What can he or you do about me? Nothing. But I can do everything to you. You cannot escape me, because I live in your very essence. I am here to drag you down, to leave you sad, hopeless and dry on the streets. I will claim you and use you for my own greed, for my own jealousy.

I lead you, tempt you. 

I am the reason you sit there and doubt your self. Try as you might to make it into my brothers arms, but I will not let you. His warm embrace is something you will not and should not feel so long as I exist. The feeling that he brings, and the comfort of living, is not something you can have. 

Success. 

My most hated enemy, and yet so close to me. 

See that kid walking out of school without a care in the world? He is my target now. (Points towards something) He will feel my wrath. He will not go towards the path of my brother, that dark sinister path of happiness. (Shivers)  As he walks home, I claim him. (Hugging Motion) I whisper in his ear (lower tone) “What’s the point of going on? You have no friends, so why?” I listen as his will cracks. (Snapping motion) He listens, but he fights. He fights to do the right thing, but I don’t let him. 

I won’t let him. 

As he approaches home, I lead him into the alley way and he lights one. (Pretends to light a cigarette) Right into my arms, and as far away as possible from Success. (Extensive hug) Over the years, he becomes the shadow of his former self. Homeless on the bench with nothing but rags and a dirty hat. My influence among those that call for me, and that I choose, is simply enormous. I refuse to let go until I know that deep down in the dark abyss of my soul, he can no longer go on. This is only one example of my power. Even MC Hammer got touched. A power and feat that Success will never have.

(2 second pause)

Success.

That name, oh how I despise it. How can we be twins, but be so different? Father equality, and mother Balance, (Puts one hands out for equality and one for balance, Kind of like a scale.)  how could they give birth to such a hideous excuse of a brother? 

(4 second pause)

It hurts. 

It hurts, that they love him more. 

Him. (Points off stage)

But I will never get the same love. I have to force my own. Anything to prevent that fool from getting what I rightfully deserve. 

(2 second pause)

Success.

It is such a heart-wrenching name. Something I will forever hate.

See that little boy there sitting in the hospital bed? That was me, I did that to him. That’s right, his heart, (Grabs heart) I will claim it and he will recede into the darkness.  

They try so hard, so hard to fight me. But I can’t let them win. I won’t. They will love me, embrace me in their mind, and accept the fact that they are lost in the limbos of life and despair. 

All because of me. (Really long and drawn out)

In my mind, after completing all these tasks that I set out to do, I feel him. 

Success.

 I feel his presence in my soul. As if I he touched my very being. I hate that feeling. It’s the feeling that I long to rip from everyone who I call a victim. 

No.

I can’t win, he won’t leave me alone. There is nothing I can do to escape him, but I don’t want to. He calls to me and whispers “No matter how much you hate me, I will love you unconditionally, and be there for you always.”

 This strange foreign feeling, I..I..I.. think it’s called love. (Emotional) 

No. I have to fight it, and never submit to his will. (Snaps head)

It felt so good, but I have a mission, a goal. That goal is to break the morale of my prisoners, and veer them in the wrong direction. 

My name is.. Failure. My intentions are clear. I am the young twin sister of success. Daughter of Equality and Balance, and tormentor of people all over the world. 

Better hope your not next.

Jhonas Dunakin Alone                                                           

Gold 

            It was awfully nice for you to take me out to lunch. I do enjoy the sandwiches here they’re very delightful. The taste of this sandwich reminds me of the times when my dad was actually happy, he’s changed ever since my mom died in the car accident. He’s never been the same, he’s more serious and I never see him ever since I was 10. I’ve never expressed these emotions before ad you’ve been my motherly figure for all these years, you’re the only person I can come to. I’m starting to regret coming to work here. We do so much harm to people and there is so much lying and secrecy. I don’t think I can take it anymore, so much pressure. Everything was fine when I decided to work for my dad, until the occupy protests began. I started to second-guess myself and I’m actually thinking of helping those people. My peers say that I’m actually helping them, but I don’t think that’s true. I make $9,000,000 a year, me just me that’s only helpful for me. I think I’ve been tricked by my dad into coming to work for him, it all makes since now. He’s using me so someone can take control of the company. Was this his plan from the beginning? It can’t be, he loves me. Or he did love me; this is what it seems like now. No, I’m contradicting myself, why would he hate something he created. I’ve supported him through all my years and what do I get in return, nothing. I get ignorance, hate, and now I feel fear. He started the fear but the people on the occupy protest’s escalated it to a point were I’m having doubts. Do you see how messed up I’ve become? Can’t he see he’s made me into something that I’m not? I wanted to be an astronaut or a nurse, something that is useful. I hate myself, I hate my life, I hate what I’ve become, I hate this man. Tell me what I’m going to do to fix this problem. Maria? Where’d you go?

There it is, lighting up like the sun, only I see it so brightly. To the two legged creatures, the “humans,” it’s a pony to be ridden. I’ve been unseen for far too long, time to make my presence known. I know I should remain unseen but I must feed. I pull my wings close, dive-bomb the earth. I break through the white sky-steam then extend my wings and swoop across the land, snatching the horned four legged creature they call a “unicorn” up in my jaws and taking the humans by surprise. They shout in surprise and disbelief in their insignificant little voices. I make a sharp turn, flying back to finish the humans. They run and cower in fear, even as I open my mouth and summon the fire from within, cooking them in their places. So odd, we have lived among them for so long yet they are still ignorant of our existence. Even now, flying towards their “city,” I see a minotaur walking down the street as unnoticed as the people’s impending doom. How shall I destroy them now, should I destroy the towers and let the rubble rain down into the streets? Or maybe I’ll land in the grass-square, the “park,” and cause havoc from the streets. Perhaps I’ll do both, first landing and striking fear into their hearts, then knocking down the buildings. I realize how evil I might sound now, why must I always kill? It is simply how I was raised, and I have never thought it good to do anything different. I kill to eat, it is how it works. If I do not find pleasure in this, I will starve. So now I land in the park, the minotaur sees me and begins to run. He’s not the only one, the people are all running, screaming. I open my maw and fly down the close together streets, collecting people and metal people-movers alike. The people-movers I can’t eat, I throw aside. Now there are loud noises and red blue light-flashers. Sudden pops as the people point their metal-launchers at me and squeeze. The metal bounces off my scales, making small booms with little lights flying away. They intend to hurt me, so I will scare them. I roar, so loud that they must cover the sides of their head and glass shatters in the buildings, falling down like rain. I open my mouth again to spray the people with fire, and they are still afraid. Now they are gone, their life presence no longer a part of this universe. Enough for today, now I fly back to the sky, back to home.

Afraid To Tell Because No One Listens

Sweat glistened off of my forehead and dripped onto my t-shirt as I ran home. Half of my shirt was now partially damp from this sweat, considering I had just run home from my job. Ugh, I just got laid off. I knew my mom wouldn’t be happy with me. (From here on the character is going on a mental rampage) Then again what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her right? Or should I remember that honesty is the best policy? It was neither. Either way I was trapped.

  Not telling her about work wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve hidden something from her. Last week I hid the fact that I had the money she wanted me to get, but I didn’t get it the way she expected me to. Standing on the corner was not apart of my ideal expectations for myself. I mean I had a job at McDonalds getting paid 5 dollars an hour. I had given her my 4 years earning for college, but that wasn’t enough. Working over time for her wasn’t getting the money in. It was giving my body up, sneaking over time without my mom knowing or selling drugs.

Money is the only thing that satisfied my mother. She expected me to sell drugs because she claims it brought the most money to the table. Out of everyone that I seen do it I just couldn’t sell drugs, although I knew someone who could, It was my uncle Tito. My mom still doesn’t know that my uncle has been back to his old ways, cigarettes, weed, guns, and cocaine. That was my uncle’s way of life, and he wasn’t planning to change it for anything.

I felt like I knew my uncle’s darkest secrets and one was what he did to me. The image of what he has done to me has been running through my head for a long time now. Ever since I felt his skin touch mine I was never the same. I remembered it like it was yesterday. 

 I felt his bare skin touch mine. I screamed out howls of despair as his cold flesh made my burning flesh become room temperature. I remember that moment like it was yesterday, I’m just aware that my mom wont believe it. She wouldn’t believe that her own brother decided to put his manhood into my delicate flower and take away my innocence. I was scared and I still am.

 My innocent anatomy wasn’t pure any longer and won’t ever be again. I know I need to stop doing all of these things and stop letting these things be done to my precious body. So, how could I please everyone and myself at the same time? It was a simple answer, I couldn’t. I wanted to come out clear but the dark shadows lurked behind me.

 I could imagine my uncle’s voice as he would slam my body down onto the bed and say to me “ Don’t complain, ain’t nobody gonna give you sex besides me anyway. No nigga wants ya, they never gonna.” This image burns in the back of my head, as my mind wanders in to the starry night.

 There was one thing that stopped me from living my daily life like a “normal” person. It took all my life to figure out what it is.  It is Fear (Character makes fear seem like a person*). Fear stopped me from telling my mom the truth and fighting off my uncle. Fear was beside me as I ran home to tell my mom I got laid off. That was until it caught up in front of me and blocked me from telling the truth. Fear keeps me awake every night and lurks behind my shadows. I am that little piece in my own mind, watching the world from a distance.  

I’m looking at the sunset as I see a young girl running towards me in tears. As she’s running towards me I notice she’s holding her wrist tightly and I realize she is my next client in need of help. I have always helped people with their problems and most of the time their mood completely changes. Other times they came to me just to get a nice view of nature. 

She sits on me and speaks of these actions that have occurred to her and even speaks of actions she wants to occur. Suicide? Why would such person want to end their life, especially at such a young age of 12? This is the first I have heard of someone wanting to end something for eternity over something that’s only going to last a while

According to her, it was a way for her to get it over with, to get life over with. A way to get rid of the late night thoughts, that got her more and more terrified of death. Thinking “Why should I wait for my death & be scared my entire life when I can end it now, either way it’s going to happen. So what’s the purpose of waiting for it”.

            I believed humans to be fun loving people who lived life to the fullest. They seem so happy and enthusiastic. I always noticed they find ways to get through their days in strange forms, but it works. I have seen them move their bodies in such motions to a combination of vocal and instrumental sounds to show happiness, and later on share a couple of laughs with a pat on the back. They write multiple letters in books to make it symbolize things that express how they feel, and it works. With all these options why can’t this one girl find a way to make it work and continue living the life she was brought into? 

This sunset is gorgeous, who would want to give up this view?, I know I wouldn’t. I have been sitting here for about 40 years and not a single day do I wish to be removed from this spot. The beauty of nature, the river, trees and peaceful people enjoying it all give life a bigger reason to live. She’s speaking of depression and the only way to end is to end her life. Humans shouldn’t jump to such conclusions. This girl is quickly making a decision with out really thinking of the consequences. I don’t know what its like to have problems, or be happy, or to simply have emotions. I’m just but a bench watching life take on its course.

 

We’ve been together for 10 years now. Her name is Ms. Snuffle bottoms, she likes long walks through the park and likes to bathe in rainbows. She likes to think she is a chip off the old block from time to time. She is so awesome, I think I might just take her to school with me tomorrow. Since it’s the firsts day of school, (with so much excitement) She might make me so popular!

Once I got up the next morning my mother yelled from the bath room, ‘Anthony its time for school, get up and take your bubble bath’

I yelled back, ‘Okay dog, this time make sure my yellow squeaky duck is in there alright home slice’

Yes I’ve been waiting for this day to come ever since I got an A plus on my art project last year. That project was so hard we had to spell our names out of cereal. I keep putting “Pimp daddy Ant”. Today’s going to be great especially since I have Ms. Snuffle bottoms with me.

When I finally got pass those gates and saw my friend Chuck with his Jan-sport book bag. I started to walk towards him with this expression on my face.

 (With a cheesy face) ‘Hey what’s up Chuck Waggon, how was your summer?’

He look at me with a I’m about to punch you in the face look. ‘It was good man, (in a mad tone) how many times did I tell you to not call me by my full name… Anthony.’

I started to giggle and I almost pissed in my pants when I saw his reaction. I wanted to see it again so I said ‘My bad Chuck Waggon, hey do you want to see something’

He almost popped a vein when I said that, but once his face wasn’t red any more he told me in a silent but mean voice ‘What!’

I grabbed my superman book bag and pulled out Ms. Snuffle bottoms. She keeps getting caught with the pencils and pens I had in my bag. His eyebrows rose and he look as if he wanted to start laughing. He said (With laughter behind it) ‘What? You still have a teddy bear?

i wanted to punch him in the face for asking a question like that but instead I answered ‘Yea so!’

he looked around and saw a crow and told me ‘Nothing I think you should go show Ms. Snuffle bottoms to that big crowd of 8^th graders over there, I think they’ll like Ms. Snuffle bottoms a lot.’

I had got so defensive that I said in a quick and silent voice, ‘you know what… I will!’

I started to walk towards them I knew that they were going to love Ms. Snuffle. Bottoms. I mean who doesn’t love teddy bears with button eyes. Once I go to them I tapped one of them on their navy blue shirt, right on his shoulder. When he turned around I began to stretch out my hands with Ms. Snuffle bottoms.

‘Hey do you like my teddy’

After I said those six words through out the whole day people have been laughing and pointing fingers at me. Most times when people saw me they called me something that was related to (in a disgusted voice)“teddy lover”.

See now Ms. Snuffle bottoms would have never sold me out to the whole school. I mean she wouldn’t have done what my friend Chuck Waggon did to me.

 

 

 

 

Si yo estuviera en esta situación como Pedro, yo no puedo hablara con Susana porque yo serîa triste. Susana era mi corazon y mi vida y quiero pedirle la mano de ella. Le dirîa a Pedro que ella no está bueno para el.

mis amigos son muy similares a mí. ¿cómo están sus amigos? Aquí está una imagen con mí y de mi hermana. ¡la amo!

Y un foto de mí máma y yo.

Aquí esta una foto de mí y equelpo de peorrista.

Come one. I can’t do this. This is wrong. You can’t kill this man. No matter, what he did.

He killed her! My fiancée! He killed Arianna! My Arianna. He shot her in cold blood! He deserves to die.

I have a life to live. I have a child. What would the child do if his Daddy ended up in jail? He is only five. The world is a terrible place for someone that young with out protection. He needs his Daddy.

That’s right. Jay-Jay needs me. But what am I going to do when he asks me about his mother? I’m going to have to tell him the truth. Then he will want to go out and kill the man himself.

How do I know that? He might be more forgiving than I am. After all, he does have some of his mother in him. Will my child be able to accept me after I’ve killed this man?

Yes. He will understand that I did it for him. He will be able to accept that I had to avenge his mother. None of this stuff matters. I am going to make this man pay for this. He killed her because she chose me and not him. Why couldn’t he just take it out on me? I hate him. I hate him so much.

Am I crazy? Is it really my place to take this man’s life? What have I done that is so noble as to take this man’s life? I am not perfect. There are quite a few things that I have done that could have been brought up in court. I’ve earned some unpaid parking tickets. I dropped out of high school. My life hasn’t exactly been successful. In fact I think I might just be the poster child of revenge. All my life I have been getting back at people who have ruined my life. I slashed my Dad’s tires after he took my toys away. I beat up half the people in my school simply because they made fun of me because I was dumb and had the lowest grades in the school. None of that was really important to me. But this, this is the last straw. This man took the one great thing in my life and destroyed it. He shot her, and now I am going to shoot him. I don’t care about the consequences. He took my fiancée and my child’s mother. It’s not fair.

Life isn’t fair man. You have to accept it and work with the cards you were dealt. This man may have taken the mother of your child but it isn’t your place to take revenge. He will have to fess up to his sins eventually.

What is eventually? He will go to his grave and not pay for his sins. His lawyer will make sure of it. His lawyer helped him get away with this. His lawyer will probably do it again. That bastard. How can he possibly stand by this man after what he has done? Oh yeah, he gets paid very nicely. There is no justice in the world anymore. There is just us, and I am ready to accept that.

Am I really? The justice system isn’t perfect, but they do make the criminals pay. This man will pay. If I kill him then I will have to pay.

I don’t care. Besides that isn’t true. I will expose him for the criminal he is. That is better than whatever time I will have to serve.

But your child, he will be alone.

I don’t care! He killed Arianna. He will pay!

I really think that you should reconsider this decision.

There is no turning back. I am going to kill this man whether you like it or not. There he is now. That bastard. Acting so innocent. He deserves to die (Pulls out gun).

NO! I can’t do this. Please, don’t do this! I am going to have to pay the price not him.

There is no justice, there is just us. I am going to make this right. I am going to make things right, for my son and for Arianna. After all, I am the poster child of revenge.

(Gunshot)

Jalen Smith

11/9/11

                                                           Alpina B7, The Ultimate Driving Machine

I remember the day I bought my dream car. “Ok Mr Garnett, enjoy your new BMW B7, “the sales man said.” Thank you for coming, have a great day.” I couldn’t believe I spent $122,900 on this car. I was so proud of myself. I deserved this, I thought. I am a successful Senior Chief of a criminal law firm. I thought that nothing could have gone wrong with the car. I couldn’t wait to show my wife and kids the cream leather seats, the shinny blue exterior, the navigation system, and the self parking system. Oh, I thought I was so fancy. Hearing the roar of the V12 engine coming down my street. I knew that Gabrielle was totally going to enjoy this car.  My wife and two children came outside to greet me in the driveway.

My son said “Oh my gosh this car is so cool!” He had asked me how much horsepower did the car have. I told him that the car had 500 horsepower. I knew that I shouldn’t have told him that, I knew that he was a little to curious. I told him that after I came back from my business trip, that we could take it for a spin. He was so upset because he would have had to wait 3 days to take the car out for a drive around the neighborhood. That evening I felt regret because I knew that buying an expensive car would lead to something bad. Knowing that my 18 year old son had an interest in cars and had constantly watched Top Gear every night, he would have loved to try to get into my car and take it for a drive himself. But then I trusted my son. I didn’t think that he would have done that while I was gone. He was already going to be with friends for the weekend so he wouldn’t have access to the car. Friday finally came and it was time for me to take a 10:43 am plane to California for my business trip. So I decided to park the car in the garage and leave the key with my wife just in case she had to borrow the car for the day. I would never forget that before I left I said I loved him, and that if he needed anything call me. We both agreed and I left.

“We are going to reach our destination soon, thank you for flying American Airlines” the Pilot said. While I was on the airplane, I felt pains in my stomach, cramping. I felt that something bad would happen to my family as a result of my new car. This was something that I have never felt before. After arriving at the LAX airport I called my wife and asked her if the car was still in the garage. She said of course, where else would it be. I then asked her where Devin was and she said that he was out with his friends. I felt relieved. So I carried on with my day. After the two days past and the business meetings were all attended to, I enjoyed visiting the numerous museums, theaters and restaurants, that California had to offer. I thought to myself that this was a very fulfilling trip. Everything was going according to plan, until the night when the hotel phone rang. There came a demanding voice on the telephone, it was a man calling me and asking me if I was Steven Garnett? I answered, yes. My stomach dropped completely to my ankles. He said: “My name is Detective Brown, do you own a 2012 BMW Alpina B7.” Yes, I answered. I wondered if everyone was alright and if my son was alright. He answered: “Your car has been totaled and 3 people have been killed in your vehicle, the driver was Devin Garnett. He has been drinking and driving and they were all killed. The car had instantly flipped over, pile driving the car into a ditch. My phone dropped to the floor leaving the police officer repetitively saying, “Are you there”? 

He didn’t listen. Why did he do this? My son, my seed? Tears filled my eyes. I called my wife and shouted, how did he get the keys to the car! I told my wife that Devin was dead. Screams and cries burst from the telephone. I kept asking myself why oh why did I even buy this car. Why did I leave this car with my wife and children. How come I didn’t leave the car at the airport? Why oh why? Why my son? It’s all my fault. I need to take the next plane to Atlanta. Filled with such sorrow I boarded the 9760 Airplane to Atlanta’s Harts field-Jackson Airport. When everyone settled and the plane was ready for departure we blasted off into the gloomy sky. Hours past and there were no signs of happiness once so ever. “We are about to reach our final destination, thank you for riding American Airlines.” Drifting in the air looking at the clouds I imagined how much my son meant to me. His smiles, his intelligence and his bright sense of humor left me breathless from what I could have imagined. A big chunk of my heart was taken away from me just because of two things. That car and that urge of curiosity. This was something that I could have never put up with.

I finally survived the 5 hour plane ride and 2 weeks went past after my sons death. Today is his burial. Seeing the features of fall I began to reminisce about how he was such a scholar. He was determined and all he wanted to do was make his parents proud. I realized that my son was special, he was my best friend. I wished to have him back, safe in my arms, free from danger seen and unseen. This was a lesson. Now that he is in a better place I can’t let this haunt me for the rest of my life. This tragedy was just like water spilled on the ground and could not be gathered up again. As I looked into the gloomy sky I known that god was keeping him safe from harm. He would never have to go through no more struggle, no more pain but he will always be my pride and joy. My jewel. 

Read about this law - http://www.opencongress.org/bill/112-h3261/show

What do you think should happen regarding legislation like this?  What could you do to either support or speak out against this legislation?

​Its November 11^th a day to give thanks to the control so im going to take my annual trip to Philadelphia National Cemetery and pay my respect to the greatest war hero who ever lived. Julius R. Jenkins. That man was like a father to me and gave up his life for the safety and everyday I just wonder why would he do it. It Should have had been me if wasn’t for me he would be here today. Why did he choose to save me who or what did he see in me that was worth saving? I look at the name Howard Jackson I think of a worthless man who managed to destroy everything in his life. So what potential did he see upon me that was worth saving. I guess its just something I will never understand Julius so certainly one of those things. But his deaf leaves me with great regret and at the same time hope because if he believed  why can’t I learn to believe in myself. I rethink that week all the time too try to understand….

We were under heavy fire from the North Vietnamese Army and I had just knifed the chest of a enemy solider that had rushed into me. The battle had me full with so much adrenalin that I forgot the strategies that you to taught me that have so many times kept us alive through so many battles. Like the one when u said to secure every kill with a second cut to the throat to be sure that your enemy will never get up. But I didn’t instead I turned my back on him and the wounded enemy was able to draw his gun and fire.I slowly began to turn around in shock of the fate I will soon take I felt powerless and it seem as if I could not move. But then came you  jumping right in front of me  pushing both of us down to the ground. As we laid on the ground I began a sigh of relief, until I notice this blank stare in your face and you where not responding to my cries.” Ceaser Ceaser are you alright” no answer so pushed you off from the top of me and noticed you have been shot 3 times and where heavily bleeding. So I rushed you back to home base for medical attention but by time we had made It I had already lost you. From that moment in life I decided that it was time for me too change my life around. See even in the past life you are still my teacher. So for that I thank you Julius u are a true life changer

“I walked down the hall towards the board room contemplating this latest situation with the bank and the attempted robbery today.  As I though to myself, that was the second one this week, what are we going to do about this?  The bank is hemorrhaging money and I am at a loss as to why. (Look around the hall) I wonder where everyone is now, no one has been on time to a board meeting in forever and, needless to say, that doesn’t make me feel very good as a boss or an authority figure.  What’s the word…(Stops and ponders for second)  It makes me feel disrespected.  (turns toward the wall and rests his head on it)  When I think about what we could do to save this bank I draw a blank, I feel spent, I just don’t know what to do anymore.  I have asked people what they think we should do about this money situation and they just stare at me and ignore me.  (Stops and listens) What’s that noise?  (Walks down the hall)  Oh yea that’s right it’s Franks’ birthday and they’re having that party.  I wonder if i should tell him that he’s getting fired at the end of the week…(debates and struggles with himself)  No I don’t want to ruin his birthday.  The sad thing is that most of us will be fired before the month is out that was the only way to keep people from suing."

"I knocked on the door and walked in, the shareholders and investors alike were furious with my leadership, if I had know this I might have made some excuse, anything that I could have…Just to get me some more time.  To do what?  I’m not sure.  At that meeting they voted to push me out, they literally pushed me out of the bank at the end of the day.  Needless to say that was my last day working there."

"My name is Tim and that is how I lost my job, my friends, the respect of everyone I knew, and everything that I ever cared about.  That is why I sleep on the streets every night.  It has been ten years since that day.  (Man that Tim was talking to throws a couple coins into a jar beside Tim and walks away shaking his head)"

Back in the closet it’s dirty, dark, and cold. I’m all alone in this box of nothing. My time has passed and I am aging everyday. I remember when I had that new fresh clean smell, not dirty like I am now. When the white part on me wasn’t an ashy brown and black. Back then I was cool.  My family came out with something newer; I am so “yesterday” as I hear the others say. What is wrong with me? Yeah I guess I am a little beat up. What is SO wrong about that? Although I don’t like being dirty, smelly, bent all over and damaged up. I hate just sitting here! I am not cleaned anymore. Is it possible I just smell so bad that no one wants me? So maybe it’s not the way I look. Or maybe it is you, not me? There are so many possibilities. Jessica my owner, is short, red haired, and loves to play in the dirt. Why can’t she pick something cleaner? Maybe I would still be picked to wear. My name is hi- top, and I have a white base, with purple in front and red flaps in the back. I have a blue check on my sides. Oh . . . and I can’t forget about my laces! Name a color and it is on there. Maybe, just maybe I will be wanted after all. (pause) Is . . . Is she really coming my way. Jessica, is that you? I don’t have to look through that little whole anymore in this cardboard box. I think the top is finally opening. I’m soaring through the air in Jessica’s hands. OUCH! She just threw me down to the ground. Next thing I know I have the feeling of my laces being untied. Stretching my body for the first time in a while. As I “oohh”, and “ahh” I feel warm socks start to slowly slip into my open mouth. As she yanks on my tongue to try to get her foot in, it hurts a little, but I am just too happy to care. Tying the laces back up into a bow. Doubled knotted too! But then . . . I feel a pull. I feel my stitching becoming looser and looser. As her toes, slowly but shortly curl up I realize that her feet are too big for me. That happy smile I had was no longer there. A frown is starting to appear. Maybe it just seemed that way. As she gets up and starts to walk around it hurts even more. I am being pulled in every direction. I can only stretch out so much. She finally notices that I am way to small and sits down. Once she unties my laces and yanks on my tongue once again she struggles to get her foot out. She’s pulling on me in every angle and it’s hurting me, and probably her too. After pulling and stretching me in every way possible Jessica’s foot finally comes out. I get put into that hard annoying cardboard box, again. Then getting picked up and not sure where I am going? Why not into the closet? Isn’t that where I live? KABOOM. I get thrown into this white thing. It smells a little funky. Definitely not my closet, or any closet! I see a big clear carton, which has 4 spaced out shapes across the top. But what I really want to know is, where am I? What am I doing here? And most importantly why? 

Curtis Jones jr. represents me because I live in the fourth district, he is also the person who drafted and sponsored the “Growing Greener” movement that has made Philadelphia cleaner in projects dealing with parks and recreational things. My representative Mr. Jones is not just interested cleaning parks and recreational places but he also is big into other stuff like transportation and public utilities. He has interests that are lengthily and important to keeping Philly a good city. According to this site from the Philadelphia city council, Curtis Jones jr. is a member of a broad number of topics that he fights for everyday. What Mr. Jones and I both have in common is the interest of parks, recreation, the disabled and the handicapped, the environment and a working knowledge of housing and the homeless. From all that I have read I can tell that the councilman really loves Philadelphia and really does want to change it for the better.

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I am lobbying for the clean up of all Philadelphia parks. Parks get dirty, it is what they do but within that dirt is glass and cigarette buds from careless, thoughtless people, this is harmful to children when they play on it and it is unacceptable. My motivation for this project was my recent visit to the doctors office to get a tetanus booster when I cut my hand on rusted metal when I was in a park local to my house. According to this site, everybody in the city council was up for helping the “green” plan, which included open spaces i.e., parks so he had no opposition in getting support. The city council of Philadelphia has made this into a resolution that has already gotten funding to make it happen.