Chapter 1 : The Chapter Of Brenbury, By Ray Bradbury

(MIP- 2) This society controls many of the rights we take for granted such as knowledge and memory, and this society gets many benefits.

It was almost midnight when he tossed a log on the fire and excused himself to turn in. Lauren made herself comfortable on the cot, but she was afraid to sleep. The tears flowed then, a sad sense of loss and frustration.

“I kind of just planned to stay here until the news lady says it’s over, the criminals have been arrested and everything is fine. Another thing Andre, you can call me Jonah since it looks like you won’t stop talking to me” He responded

"I'm sure that you don't share the same father than that soldier." Antanas interrupted. "When he was moving away from me, I was still so angry and ashamed that I shouted asking why he had done that. He stopped and replied that he had learned the basis of war from his father and he never had thought him how to kill kids."

She turned back around and walked into the room. I stepped in only a few feet then

The man clicked his tongue and sauntered to a room in the back. Feeling awkward, Basil walked around the open warehouse. He eyed the stacks of crates warily, curious about the contents. A dimly lit hallway extended before him, but snooping around any further could arouse suspicion. Basil turned around to return to his original spot, but not before a languid voice poured out from one of the rooms down the hallway. “— under the bridge, grab the country princess and kill her. The gunpowder we ordered is gonna be your distraction. Boom.”

"My name is Jim Evans and I am trying to help people out so let's get out of here," I exclaimed. I almost forgot about that one girl near the stairs. " We got to go get one more person before we leave," I exclaimed. I trudged around and finally found her.

Smoke filled the air as our bodies collapsed one by one onto the ground. The power drained from each of our bodies as we fought to stay alive. We needed to stay alive for the sake of all the innocent people in this town.

Last night's events turned out to be something I didn't expect. I left Noel's home that night with a mission in mind, to find Tobias. And I did find him, only to have him taken away from me again.

In an instant, the whole city was annihilated. Today marks the passage of 70 years since that terrible day when charred bodies, including those of children and the elderly, covered the ground.

Smoke hung so heavily in the library air, she could have read words in it. There was a fire, but she wasn't trying to escape. She lounged in a purple chair, waiting to be burned alive. She wondered what her foster parent's reaction would be. They probably wouldn't care, she thought, they never do. Thus, it is true. They probably will suppose that it is better that she is gone. Or maybe, she thought, or maybe they will care. Maybe they will care that I died because then they could have all of my parent's money. Since I have never had a will, it would go directly to them. They probably will thank the heavens I died.

I don’t believe I had processed it all; Elle’s deliberately spiteful words, my walking out--the tension had been palpable, what else could have been done? I reassured myself as I walked along a dirt path along the thick of the forest that my decision, while impulsive, was the right thing to do. We both needed to breathe, take a moment before we would say something that would cause irreversible damage. Travelling along the path brought me no comfort--I was left wandering the well-trodden area with tears blurring my vision, frustration building and subsiding, then building once more within me. Normally the quiet, soothing aura of nature would relieve any anxious nerves I had. Today, it only unsettled me more. However, it wasn’t the fault of nature itself--I don’t believe anything could bring me back to my gentle-hearted disposition, at least for quite a

Loisel walked to the window and sat. There she spent her time, wasting away. Her husband would bring food, worried. Mme. Loisel contemplated and contemplated. This was all preventable, but she didn’t want to believe it. She had given too much away to know she could’ve easily prevented it. She moped. She cried. She pouted. Why her? Weeks passed like days. Eventually, her husband tapped her shoulder. She didn’t notice until the fifth attempt to capture her attention.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around. Reibal. I tensed. I stood up and hugged him, my tears seeping into his shirt. I looked at Harlem, as his eyes slowly closed. I cried and cried and cried into Reibal’s comforting body, but it only made me feel a little better. Reibal kissed my the top of my head. I tensed again, but only for a little while. Reibal finally got me to go back to my treehouse, by picking me up and carrying me there. He tucked me in to

“Okay,” and we start slowly walking back into the forest but we still stay close to the freeway. My foot was still throbbing but luckily it wasn 't infected. If we could get to that city we may be able to rest. We’ve been walking for around 8 hours with a few rest breaks and I could tell that I was starting to loose casey. The lights were a little over 2 miles away and I could