Bad Blood Monologue

The rain had just stopped pouring, and we had all gathered in a park nearby, as a makeshift memorial for Johnny. It wasn’t really a funeral, we didn’t have the budget for that, and it wasn’t like his parents cared enough to give him a proper goodbye.

I kept writing. It was hard, but I could get everything off of my chest. I could explain to people what had happened to me. I could tell my English teacher. It was a little hard, but I didn’t cry. I couldn’t cry. Greasers didn’t cry.

In the cold December, when the land is white with snow, my children’s children go to play on Bloody Ice. Its incarnadined surface is a source of mystery, another one of our town’s curiosities. Sixty years ago—but how my memory dims!—I saw the red take hold. I saw wicked things rising from the lake, and when they left, they took my brother with them.

I could smell English Leather shaving lotion and stale tobacco, and I wondered foolishly if I would suffocate before they did anything.

I’m ready to fight i tried telling myself, but I’m not until I turn on my music but now I think that it is distracting me. Let's do this, it’s now or never. “For Skyrim” I yell.

I pull up and fuck your daughter, sike nah let me stop. I ain't 21 Savage and I ain't Lil Yatchy,

Hey! Nice to meet you! I am Wendy, a water molecule! Oh! Sorry for the yelling. It is just that I am a very excitable person. I am at the top of the atmosphere for the first time! I was left here by a spaceship. I guess they just forgot….. or else they don’t like water molecules! I never thought of that before, but who cares? I’m still here.

Suddenly I gain consciousness. Unable to open my eyes, I feel a cluster of dried sticks poking my back as if I was lying on a bed covered by pins. A constant ringing noise almost blankets the sound of the leaves dancing with the wind around me. With a gentle sigh I allow myself to build enough energy for me to open an eye. My eye began to follow a path towards the only light source it sees, the fire from a wooden torch gripped with my left hand. I open my other eye and began to force my lean body to a kneeling position. The smell of decomposing leaves irritates my nose as I gaze at the identical oak trees surrounding me like a wall of armoured gladiators. Using my wrinkled hands and injured legs I crawl towards

Great, no one said she couldn't but her being traumatized still makes no sense if she's not traumatized by all the other shit.

I wish I could pull myself away, But you’re almost as bad as nicotine. You’re a drug that I fell into, And can’t drag myself out of. I just can’t quit.

In this essay, I will be analyzing a character from the play Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. By seeing how intense the passion was between Romeo and Juliet in this play, it’s not hard to see that the main theme of this play is love. The character that I will be analyzing will be Tybalt. The tension between Tybalt and Romeo was significant. So much so, that Romeo killed Tybalt later in the play which resulted in him being tossed into exile by the prince. What indirectly caused this fatal encounter was when Romeo attended the Capulet’s ball and Tybalt wasn’t too happy about his presence. In this essay, I will go into more detail about the two ways how Tybalt affected the outcome of this play.

Today’s the day Fred. You can do this. You know the plan and you can do this. Remember the plan Fred. Firstly, I act nice and casual; ask good ol’ Ken how he’s been maybe? Would that be too obvious? Oh god, I’m over thinking this already. Okay stop, deep breath. Firstly, I’ll make general small talk and ask how he’s been going and maybe I’ll even ask about his dingy so I know how to work the damn thing when I kill him! Kill him? Do I really want this? I mean is this the right time and the right place? What if someone’s out there and sees’ me? Or, or what if it doesn’t go to plan and he survives? I could be put behind bars before I could even make it back to the shore! Oh no here I go again, I’m a nut for even thinking I could do this. But I have to do it. It’s always Ken this and Ken that, don’t I matter too? No, apparently not, there’s never anyone around to see me ever because no one cares about a broke. Now soon to be rich man when I get my hands on his dingy! Why am I so indecisive about this, I can’t kill a man? Especially a good guy like Ken? Oh for Christ’s sake Fred stop thinking about feelings, there are no feelings in this situation.

ill fucking kill you bitch if you don't stop talking shit behind my back you dirty tart. You be suck all sort of dick my boy and I gonna expose your bitch ass if you don't stop. maybe ill brake your fucking family's knees in. I'm not going to fuck around anymore you fucking dirty ass bitch, another thing you owe me money you hoe. bitch I got niggas that are willing to beat your ass.........

My life was flashing before my eyes, I was realizing what was happening death was coming. Cold and stillness filled the room while the feeling of death started to overtake my body it was a different feeling but it had to come. My limbs felt heavy and I thought real slow everything was slowing down. Just then something odd happened like nothing I ever thought some sound came into the room an annoying buzzing creature.

It had been a day like any other, I woke up and got ready for work, kissed my wife and walked out the door. We didn’t know that that would be the last normal morning we would wake up to. My pregnant wife Annabeth and I, Oliver, live in Dead Island. Dead Island is the only is the only island we know. We haven’t been anywhere else besides our home.