Dalton Ames Monologue

Hell isn’t all they crack it up to be, honestly. In the stories, it’s all fire, hopeless souls hopelessly screaming, endless pain. I mean, yeah, there’s fire. Lots of it.

I tried to get my revenge on him. After all he killed my dear wife! Boy I was wrong, turns out Tom had just retuned back from the city. He told me everything. He was not behind the wheels of that damned car.

It 's been days that I 've been feeling like I 'm not myself. Although I think

It came to a stop, dad had turned off the engine and at the same time the both of us had let out a deep sigh. Feeling relaxation taking over our bodies, we let go of the past tensions we normally have when packing the car before we left. Dad, wearing his usual tie die shirt and black shorts with yellow stripes on the side pulled out the keys from the ignition and placed them into his right

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

The story represents the culmination of Wright’s passionate desire to observe and reflect upon the racist world around him. Racism is so insidious that it prevents Richard from interacting normally, even with the whites who do treat him with a semblance of respect or with fellow blacks. For Richard, the true problem of racism is not simply that it exists, but that its roots in American culture are so deep it is doubtful whether these roots can be destroyed without destroying the culture itself. “It might have been that my tardiness in learning to sense white people as "white" people came from the fact that many of my relatives were "white"-looking people. My grandmother, who was white as any "white" person, had never looked "white" to me” (Wright 23).

Crook’s is a prime example of loneliness. “There wasn’t another colored family for miles around. And now there ain’t a colored man on this ranch an’ there’s jus’ one family in Soledad.” He laughed. “If I say something, why it’s just a nigger sayin’ it.”

“Stay on the ground, it’s the only place you’ll ever go living in this dump of a town. You might as well dig your grave right there, Alvin,” uttered Cam in a hopeless and deceiving tone. This was a normal day for Alvin Munk on the dry, plain

Welcome, Ladies and gentlemen, Gary, or Gary Dunn,to give him his Sunday name, or if he was in trouble, which was a lot, when he was younger, but most just called him Gary. Gary was a son, a brother, big and little, he was a boyfriend then a husband, a dad and a granddad too, but he was also a friend, and he was definitely a bit of a lad. Gary had been many different things to many different people over the years, but today they all have, at least, one thing in common, they will all miss him very much. Gary was a real character, what you saw, with Gary, was what you got, and if you didn’t like it, well, tough, but he was also a loving family man, a dependable man, and a hard working man too, he would never do you a bad turn, but don’t hold your breath waiting for

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”

Then I went back to picking out what I was going to wear. I ended up with a white shirt and some jean shorts. Right when I was about to get in the shower, there was a knock at the door. Who could be here this early? It couldn’t be daddy because he was at work.

Hello friends. My name is Sam Worcester, however most people call me by my superhero name: ThinkSafe. Not many people can say that they have saved the world but I can. I have saved the world, and this is my story. Starting when I was just a regular 12 year old boy back in 1989, growing up in the great state of Arizona. Not much happened there, but I did manage to find some adventure going into the Grand Canyon when I could. My parents always told me to be safe, which I was. One day as I was touring a seemingly deserted area, I had stumbled upon a cave. I guess I had wandered off too far because I had no clue where I was, but that didn't mat-ter, I always liked exploring new parts and I always marked where I had been. This cave was strange there were symbols on the wall that were glowing.

A tiny voice asked, “Is he the one?” “Of course, he has to be the one,” It began. “He can see things a regular human could never comprehend,” It droned. “He can also comprehend the most mind-boggling mysteries to mankind.” “What great power wasted on a little boy, I just hope She will be happy.

My Converse seemed to carry me, after I had walked so slow for the two miles before that one. My backpack full of books slammed against the back of my back, forcing me to run faster. As soon as I arrived at my house, I unzipped my backpack and searched around for my house key. The door was jammed, just my luck, so it took twice as long as usual to get