Dennis Rander Monologue

“The setting plays an important role in how the narrator discovers the many ways he may die” (2). It is a dungeon full of torturing traps, and the character, as any normal human, feels terror inside his prison and fears his death in any of the cruel ways arranged for him. Still, he has to decide between death and the relief which it brings or life with the interminable agony of being tortured as a lab mouse.

Killing must feel good to god too… he does it all the time. Without hesitation, without a scratch of a though against his head he lets it happen and he lets the action run its course again and again and again.

"Bye mom!" I yell as I walk out the door on my way to school. My mom reminds

“Thank you. As hard I’ve worked, I doubt there are many young ladies around to hoodwink me. I can see one now, saying to me, “Would you be shocked if I put on something more comfortable? Even if one would rub my nose in her pussy, I doubt I’ll take the bait.

The story of trey, the football player. Trey thrives off the feeling of winning a football game, he trains until he can’t train anymore and even when he can’t he never stops. It all has to do with the passion and love of the game football itself, losing is never an option in his eyes but when losing a game does occur he deals with it humbly and uses it as a learning experience and comes back stronger for his next game. Lately trey has gotten an offer to participate for a well-known football team that is loved and supported by many, but to grab this opportunity he is required to travel 3 and a half hours from his hometown, away from his parents, siblings and everyone else trey values in his life.

I peeped my head out out from the cloth like a curious meerkat, then scooted out from under the table. I grinned inward and glanced at my laced up boots. If I was in heels I would not have been able to do that.

and me Sally, my sister said. Do you know him ,I asked. No, what else could I say he has a gun.

I pray this letter has reached you safely, else I would be unable to explain my grim fate to you. However, it is likely you know the precise events which followed our brief encounter as you greatly influenced what happened henceforth. Nonetheless, I will continue to tell the tale of my woes in case you have overlooked something. Let me begin by introducing myself: I am Roger Mubin, the little boy who you lured into your home after he had attempted to mug you. If you have forgotten this name, know I have never forgotten yours, Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones. That name is forever ingrained in my mind, as if you have taken a knife and carved it in my brain. I apologize for my harsh tone, yet I am sure you understand as I have been rotting

Lennie doesn't seem to have the same thoughts about death as other people have. Death doesn’t really matter to him. His mental disability makes him closer to an animal than to a human.

When he was 5, his birth mother returned from the big city all furious and angry. He left her alone until it came to dinner time when she had calmed down a bit. He sat down as per usual, with the fork and spoon in his hand and when she walked over with the food he would bang and kick the table. Considering that his birth mother had just come home furiously, she had had enough of the silly little games. She walked over with the food, and placed it gently on the table whilst Curley was still banging and kicking. After she places the food down on the table she quickly reacted and tried to grab the cutlery out of Curley’s hand but missed. She accidentally grabbed the hand and jerked it around which caused it to injure Curley. Curley then yelped and clenched his

Fear wafts throughout the air, weighing down on Amy's already heavy shoulders. She dashes to the bathroom intent on saving the pesky house guest from the endless pit it may now have to call home. Reaching into the germ infested loo, she pulls out a minuscule being shivering uncontrollably. The pest is soon bound into a tight bundle, engulfing it as though smothered by its mother. Once it is nursed back to health, Amy creates a dream home for it outside on our steps. Watching from a distance, she beams as it returns to its natural habitat. Just one pesky mouse, clearly not cared about by our cat, my parents nor I, somehow, Amy finds it within herself to put this unsightly mouse above her own

Burned bacon and eggs as thin as water, “worst breakfast mom makes better” Michael cried Mrs. Malison the foster “Mom” didn’t care though she slapped Michael and said “eat your food or you’ll sleep in the shed today.” Michael thought anything is better than his actual foster bedroom, its black, greasy walls, and rickety bed it was horrible. When Michael woke up from his nightmare of the first day at the foster home, when rubbing the sleep out of his eyes Michael walked down stairs to see Mrs. Malison shooting her AK- 47 at the bird nest and Mr. Malison laying on the coach drinking Bud Light and reading the newspaper from two weeks ago. Michael was now fourteen years old and was still being treated as a three year old, he wished he could leave this place for ever. When Michael was three years old his mom and Dad divorced and his Mom sent him to this foster home. The only thing he remembered that day was when his mom arrived at the foster home she

A man of dignity and intrepidity, Shakespeare’s Macbeth in the tragic play “Macbeth” had once embodied these majestic traits and left others around him awestruck in merely inspiration, yearning to echo his footsteps. His courageous escapades had also succeeded in winning over King Duncan of Scotland during a battle in which he defeated King Sweno of Norway. Yet, farther into the play, Macbeth’s character seemingly transforms into a man of ruthlessness and vulnerability. He becomes a “tragic hero” after his confrontation with the witches, the stern lectures of his wife (Lady Macbeth), and ultimately, the immoral human nature of greed.

He sits down next to a teacher at the art table when she invites him for an art activities by calling his name. He watches teacher's demonstration of the art work without any moving. When she shouts, "Go ahead", he says, "What is this?" as picking one leaf up with fingers on the tray. He moves it on the green paper. He picks up a stick, dip into a glue jar with a right hand while holding the jar with a left hand. He taps the stick couple of times on the jar and scribbles on the paper up and down. When the paper tumbles a little bit, he holds the tip of the paper with the other hand firmly not to move. He puts down the stick next to the glue jar, picks up dry leaves and places them on the glue part of his paper. He taps his pointy finger on the table couple of times and grabs some more leaves and pastes them on the paper. He says, "I am done." and moves toward a drying shelf with his art work on his two hands. He places it between shelves carefully. He dips his hands into the bucket filled with water next to the art table couple of times and dries with a towel.

Morning arrived too quickly. Hector was awakened by George, his five year old brother, a lively brown eyed boy, full of laughter and joy.