Arthur Monologue

“My name is Ponyboy Curtis.” I started. I didn’t know why I introduced myself, the only people here already knew who I was, but it just felt right, like I had to. “I was a good friend of Johnny, and he was a good friend to me.” I choked back my tears, there was no going back

the wild antics of the die hard fans. In my essay I will try and attempt to describe as

The band has a few performances at the school a year. Each performance they play different music, except for the contest they play in. The band picks their favorite music to play for the contest and that is what they play each contest. Not only does the band have performances at school, but they also have contests held by them throughout the year. You can choose to perform alone or in a group. You pick your music according to your skill level and then you rehearse it a couple times at school and you rehearse at your time. If you feel confident enough you can enter the contest. They hold about two of those a year. Another contest they hold is with other different schools in the area. On the day of the performance, you stay after school. You have to wait till it is your bands turn to warm up and then you get to go and perform in front of three judges. After your band has played, you get to go

I never dreamed of being in a band, not in a million years. One day I was at the monthly Jam at Center Stage Vintage Guitars. I always had a great time jamming with the people there. And I always brought my banjo to the jams. It started out just like they usually do when all of a sudden this guitar player came up to me and said, “I got to talk to you.” I was confused and felt like a cat with no claws because I didn't know what he wanted. He looked funny because his extremely curly hair was as long as a redwood tree. He introduced himself and a bass player next to him. The guitarist was Greg Sanders and the bass player was Neill Jones. Neill looked as short as a middle-schooler, although he was twenty three.

But that soon changed as the director started to single us out. He started out with the ones that he wanted to see if they could play on the harder instruments. Then he went to the people new to the group. He asked all of us to play by ourselves and surprisingly I didn’t mess up at all. I was just as surprised as everyone else that I did that

Marching band is the weirdest thing I have ever heard of,” Ryanna laughed. “I’ll see you around.”

DJ-Pon3, as she was called on stage, stepped away from the booth sweating and feeling the warmth throughout her entire body. Even as the maestro she was not immune to the music’s hypnotic effects. No, in fact her position perhaps made her the most vulnerable. It was a rush, a thrill, a love. She got to do what she loved. And so she went to her employer with a smile.

The prison cell was hardly six feet by six feet, just a hollow prism of concrete with a callous opening of thick metal bars. There was only one way in and one way out. I lose the sense of time in here just like my old home, I couldn’t even tell if it was day or night, all I have are my thoughts and this pencil and paper. This place is bewildering by layout, so quiet that anyone could forget their own name. I haven’t, Arthur Radley is my name but you might know me as Boo, the name that has been given to me from the people’s monstrous perceptions. Maycomb’s townspeople have an unreasonable view of me, they all portray me to have mental issues, that I am an enigma and not safe to be around. I don’t know how these people got these views as I am

“Why do you think there’s so many of them? Why do you think they all hang out here in a graveyard? What do you think the reason is they don’t die?” Katelyn asked me in rapid fire, and I thought she sounded like she was starting to get frustrated.

“That was a stupid move! Now they’re going to chase you! Too many people are already looking for you.” A young girl with blonde-brown hair, wearing a band shirt and jeans, was yelling at her television while watching her favorite show, Unnatural. Her favorite character, Charles, had ran away from the work that she didn’t want to do while nobody was looking. She was eating her least favorite snack: Vegetables. As if the show didn’t make her upset enough. Great. Someone is knocking on her door. I can’t handle my favorite character dying again! Too many people die in this show. Then she heard a knock on the door.

This school year I did something new by trying to do band for the first time. In band I play the trumpet. I have to use a school instrument, because it is really expensive to rent a ammo instrument having to pay each month. My band class is my 4th period, and we stay in there for 55 minutes. I really wished that I did not pick band, because it is really boring and we don’t get a lot of stuff also everybody gets in trouble all the time. In this semester it is kind of fun because we are going to be out of school very soon. What’s the most favorite part about band is We get to play new songs, and that we get to play majors and minors. What’s the most terrible part about band is waiting for people to get ready and pay attention, and also people

Walking home, I decided that I would tell my husband later that night. One word that could describe the feeling of finding out your son had caused disruption in his class, then lied about it by blaming an imaginary person could be shocking. All this time, I had believed it to be this Charles, a boy who did not even exist! Although it made sense why Laurie had come home late that one day— why would the kids in the kindergarten stay with Charles late? They did not, Laurie had made up such a story to get out of trouble, it was unbelievable. I underwent the feeling of feeling awfully shallow at that point.

As Andy lay on the sidewalk bleeding, after being stabbed, he shows the reader how much he cares and loves Laura. I believe a big part of Andy's moral stature is to be compassionate. Not only towards Laura but also towards the future, the future he was planning to have with her. Although the whole time all of is thoughts are on Laura, some are more worrying than others.

This story reminds me a question that I never asked myself before—if I am the only one who know the world is going to the end, how can I convince others to let them trust what I said?

When I arrived at the scene I first noticed that Arthur Volupides was lying on his back with his legs on the stairs. I also saw that he was formally dressed. The carpet was still neat and nothing on the wall was out of place. Something else that stuck out to me was that Mr. Volupides clothes weren’t messed up at all and he was perfectly positioned. He still had his glass in his hand, and it wasn’t broken or cracked at all. Also the glass was in his left hand. Right before I was about to conclude my investigation I noticed that in the kitchen there was food cooking on the stove.The autopsy states that Arthur died from a wound on the head and confirmed that he had been drunk