Beddingfield Monologue

I can 't get out of this box. The last time I looked out my window I saw meadows. Long, far, empty meadows. Living on the great plains has it 's benefits, but those meadows are ruining it for me. I keep my head away from the window. When I wake up I see the light reflect off my peeling wallpaper. I 've been sick twelve times this year and theres just something about those meadows. I remember the horizon curving from the green meadows, the ground yellow with pencil marks of green. The backdrop, dark clouds with blue outlines. The whole scene looked like a blur, maybe it was just the windows. If I squint really hard I can see the cross, her cross. The one I made for her last year. The first year of her last year. At a distance you can see the

“You got to think Ponyboy” is one of my favorites quotes to say after my parents died. I have two jobs and also to watch out for Ponyboy and Sodapop not to go to a boys home. I am the oldest of the greasers. I slapped Ponyboy to tell him to never be late again. Also I slapped him because I can not call the police because they will put Soda and him in a boys home and they would never see me again.

Over the summer I attended the four day Congress of Future Medical Leaders and it made me realize what I dreamed to become and achieve in life

his comeback, I was dispatched to George Cherry’s boxing club to watch him work out.

I woke to the sound of Joey screaming “Lizabeth stop, please stop”. And when I came outside to see what all the commotion was about, it was too late Lizabeth already destroyed my marigolds. These marigolds that were orange and yellow and the only thing that made me run down house look beautiful. They meant so much to me because I got those from my husband Craig Lottie. Craig had a disability that leads to him passing away a couple of years after he bought me the marigolds and that is all I have to remember him. As I was watching Lizabeth destroy my marigolds my heart shattered, it was like the day I lost Craig.

raHe searched everywhere for those shoes, those perfect tan ones with that fabric flower that fit him just right. The closet, underneath his bed, in the pile of clean clothes he meant to fold a week ago. They were nowhere to be found, completely gone from the face of the Earth, leaving Cal Hampton barefooted and discouraged. It was only eight in the morning and his room was more of a mess than it usually was, plus, worst of all, he didn 't have a single pair of shoes that matched the floral skirt settled upon his waist. He bought it just for that damn pair, those adorable, dainty tan shoes, and now, the thing was useless. Grunting, the boy thrust the fabric past his knees. His blouse followed soon after, landing in the disheveled grasp of his

... [through this] wa s able to make the ... letters named.” (8) This use of slow calculated, mechanical syntax and simplistic diction successfully conveys to the reader, in both essays, the

The mother was seen in the office today by me again. It was a result of my calling her up yesterday that she showed up. Her dress was very simple, not what I espected at all. She seem ambivalent about coming to see me – didn’t know what I was going to do I guess. Most of the time we talked about Charlie. He keeps running away from home. She can’t understand this behavior. Last time the police aprehended him he was on the cornar of 20th and Bylor stret, about 8 miles from the center. Hitchiking was how he had to have got there the way Mrs. Milton figured it. I’m not so sure because with his low IQ (78) I guess he would have gotten a bus and just kept riding till he decide he want to get off. Then maybe from here somebody gave him a

Did you ever want to feel humiliated by being naked on an island? If you do well the book I’m gonna be talking about is about a boy and a girl getting harassed by campers and getting sent to an island alone to survive and get humiliated. They are trying to survive by existing the island. The question we're talking about is Howie and Laura world is dangerous and malevolent or is it caring and worth exploring. I say yes and I tell you why I think that way if you read further on.

The room is spinning. It’s hard to get a good look and what or even where the scene is taking place. Finally, the revolution ends on a face. Not a remarkable face. Just an average looking guy in his early twenties with a short brown fair and sad eyes. When the average guy speaks, a moderate Southern drawl tinges his voice.

“I know that in writing the following pages I am divulging the great secret of my life, the secret which for some years I have guarded far more carefully than any of my earthly possessions; and it is a curious study to me to analyze the motives which prompt me to do it. I feel that I am led by the same impulse which forces the un-found-out criminal to take somebody into his confidence, although he knows that the act is likely, even almost certain, to lead to his undoing. I know that I am playing with fire, and I feel the thrill which accompanies that most fascinating pastime; and, back of it all, I think I find a sort of savage and diabolical desire to gather up all the little tragedies of my life, and turn them into a practical joke on society”

"Come read the rest of this, honey." His mother had joined him on the porch. "It's a trip." The torture chair looked normal in the hours before tea.

Massachusetts, 1692...what an awful time to be alive. Especially for a young, timid girl by the name of Clarabeth. Not exactly the most special of girls, just a hard worker for her family, an all around fair person. Unfortunately, Clarabeth woke from an unpleasant sleep with a start on a gloomy August twilight, to the sound of people shouting and an accused “witch” tied to a stake, crying with the force of a tidal wave, pleading to be let down. “I didn’t do anything, I swear! Please, just let me go!” cried the poor lady, but the townspeople weren't hearing her wales of misery.

Man this stuff is good are you ready to snort the next round, sure. Bang bang bang . Open the door it is time to eat.

In the stories, it’s all fire, hopeless souls hopelessly screaming, endless pain. I mean, yeah, there’s fire. Lots of it. And there’s tons of screaming too, probably because of the fire. And where there’s fire and screaming, there’s endless pain.