A Summary Of Roger Nelson's Story

(quietly) "You're going to stay here" "You're going to stay here and see it through with the rest of us" "If you went, I'd have you shot- for deserting" A menacing character is brought out here who is emotionless.

“Forgive me for not noticing you Isaac.” She said while chewing. “I’m still not fully awake yet, how did you sleep?”

“No, this is a personal trip. Though it wasn’t me who blew up your precious police station.”

“Good point. If the choice is life and material wealth with anonymity . . . or death. For most of us that would an easy choice.”

“Hey!” Dax cut off the man’s babbling. “Now you listen to me young man, you don’t just come rushing into a fine establishment-“

“Let's get out of here, we won't do our cause any good if get captured or killed,” Derek said.

Roger Martin was born on January 5, 1947 in Tulsa, Oklahoma to Carl and Marjorie Martin. Roger had one brother that he was 10 years older than and a sister that he was 2 year years younger than him. Both of his parents worked so they were called latch-key kids. His Dad was a chef and his mom at a was a switchboard operator in a hotel. His dad went to work at 4:00am to 1:00am then he went home and power naped till 4:30 and then worked until 8:00 His dad let him work at the restaurant he worked at. He started out washing dishes and then his dad made his own restaurant and then he worked his way up to chef. One of Rogers chores was mowing the acre of land with a push mower. Roger also raised a calf Bufford and sold him to his neighbor. His neighbor slaughtered the cow and brought hamburger over to Roger home. His little brother would not eat it because he knew it was Bufford. Roger spent most of his time outside for entertainment, playing with neighbors, and his siblings. They made forts and dug tunnels. In the summer, his mother and the children would go to his grandma’s house in Kansas for a month at a time. There they played with their cousins, they swam

“Seriously?” one of the other men asked. “Why has it taken so long for you guys to get here?”

“It’s not that bad. And you’re not that good with creepy and scary stuff are you?” Farren pushed a door open to see a old patient's room.

“I’m fine,” I said picking up the glasses. I began walking back down the long dark hall to my bedroom, hoping anything would happen to stop me from going. The glasses mocked me as my hands unintentionally shook them nervously.

“Yes anyways I was waiting at the restaurant, me and my friend Jimmy Wells or I should say Officer Wells, when he came in his uniform.”

“Yes. You have your man, you can do your business elsewhere. Please don’t come back or I’ll be forced to take more serious action.”

“No, I was just brought here from my house by a pair of police officers. Why am I here?”

Furthermore, there was no way of telling what things had been truly refused, when so little he supposed came by that out of fear most of it had to be taken and kept, and what had simply, perhaps tragically, been lost.

“I mean if you really want, there isn't going to be someone actually living in here”