Mr. Brooks Narrative

The car suddenly stopped and jolted me from my sleep. Disoriented, I looked around and tried to make sense of where I was and what I was doing. Over to my left, I saw my sister doing the same. Tall, blue, connected houses surrounded us and we were parked in the middle of a pristine parking lot. Green, luscious lawns sat in front of those blue houses. A gigantic tree surrounded by beautiful multicolored flowers sat to the left of a dumpster and a wooden sign with white script on it. “The Pointe at Stoneview,” I read to myself.

Making her way toward the sidewalk, she turned right on Doveland Drive. Without a car, Anita must walk two and a half miles to reach Forest Creek Lane, the predominantly upper-class part of town. As she walked, her stomach turned as if she had ridden a fast carnival ride and no matter what she tried to calm her nerves, her attempts were futile. When she reached the street, she couldn't help but stare in awe at the beautiful houses that lined it. Some had the latest car park in front, others had empty spaces while the owner was at work. Anita imagined handsome doctors carrying briefcases and housewives wearing wearing the latest fashions. Anita, at 22, still lived with her parents in the not-so-nice part of town, where houses where becoming dalapitated and the roads and sidewalks were cracked and never fixed. Always feeling as if she didn't belong where she lived, she often imagianed what it would be like to live as other

Even when the sky cried, the town was perfect. The weekly manicured grass welcomed the unexpected warm summer rain. Rainbows of chalk drawings washed away in dark pools, and even with whole world seemingly turning dark, the perfect white trim on the houses shown, and the old gas street lights illuminated the pristine street. In the beige house, behind the white picket fence and the red door gathered a group of APT moms in the kitchen, hosting weekly book club. My sad reflection in the window stared back at me, visible to no one. I laughed quietly to myself when I saw the very familiar group. Making small talk at the head of the table was Mrs. Jackson, I had gone to school with her son forever. Funny, I didn’t see her at the funeral. Chipping away at her manicure was Mrs. Webster, our conservative Girl Scout leader whose daughter Lillian never liked me much. It was a quite diverse group, some sporting intricate hairdos thick with hairspray and pins, sipping their soy lattes perfectly poised, conversing only slightly

What had been an almost deserted road a year ago was now home to multiple families of all different ages; even though the Whites could never figure out who would want to live in such a swamp. The new neighbors thought Eileen to be foolish, always blaming a decaying paw for her son’s death.

I watched Emily run through the rain like it was the best thing that ever happened to her. She loved it. I however did not. Coming to get me I guessed as I heard her bound up the stairs. ¨I know you hate the rain hollie but you should come out.” She said. I was nine at the time and afraid of a lot of things. ¨No! I don't like the rain and I never will.” She then proceeded to pull me over her shoulders and carry me outside into the storm. Within a minute my flaming red curly hair was dark maroon wet and straight. ¨How do you know you won't like it if you won't even step of the steps when it does.¨ I cautiously stepped of the stem into the dirt at the bottom of the stone steps and felt the mud squish between my toes. It felt funny but I like it. I smelt the rain and looked around at the wet grass with the water on it. It was alluring. But before I could touch it I felt coldness all around me and looked up to see my sister with a bucket. We played outside for what felt like hours till Father came to get us. Then I loved the rain and every storm no matter what time it was my sister and I would go outside and play in the

That evening Kollins returned home, like everyone else at six. She ran up to her room, and wrote down how perfect everything seemed today. After, she scurried down the stairs, to find a fresh batch of cookies lying on the windowsill to cool. She bounced a cookie around in her hand until she was able to handle the heat. She grabbed a glass of milk and plopped down on the chair, diagonal to where her mother sat. A sheer look of sadness covered her mother’s face. “Kollins, I need to tell you something very important.”

It was late at night. Dennis and Agatha Garner pulled into the driveway of the lake house they would be staying for the next 5 days. The drive was a brutal sixteen hours from Sacramento, California to Flathead Lake in the far northwest of Montana. Their parents refused to make any stops other than to use the bathroom every four hours or so. Dennis’s Gameboy had died a while ago and Agatha had pretty much filled every page in her coloring book and had probably read the picture book she brought at least 20 times over and had passed out by the time they had arrived, but at last the ride had finally been finished. The area around the house around the house was shrouded in darkness. The air was much cooler and had the feeling as if Dennis was walking

A few years have passed since the kind Miss Joyce drove the Beechams to San Joaquin Valley. Much had changed. The brown and white cottage was bursting with life. The day starts just as dawn breaks. Rose-Ellen, Dick and Jimmie begin getting dressed for school. Rose-Ellen and Dick are in the 9th reader and Jimmie is in the second. After hard work and much patience he learned how to read. It turns out he has a knack for math and greatly enjoys it. Daddy and Grandpa get ready to work in the grapevines. They are managers and help make the grapevine workers do their job. Grandma begins making breakfast and rouses up Sally. Sally’s still too young for school so she stays home with Grandma to help around the house and run small errands. Jimmie is still a little bit slow and sometimes complains about joint pain.

The neighborhood was full of busy people that would casually say “hello” and “goodbye”. Peter started delivering newspapers at the age of ten, however, you would know he coming down the street with his yellow traveling cart also, you could hear the clunking noises from the wheels when it hit a bump. He lived a few blocks away from Mrs. Park although you couldn't miss it, the huge stone house on the block where she grew up in and later raised her family. Mrs. Park’s parents died in a car accident while she was in her last year of college when she inherited the house. Her husband died after five years of marriage, she couldn’t give her heart to anyone else nevertheless she had a strong well to nurturing her only daughter through this crisis. Mrs. Park and Jane were realtors and they both enjoy helping at the soup kitchen at their church until her daughter married. Bill eager to start a furniture store however it wasn't close by nevertheless, it was about a 1-day trip away,

I bet you're wondering what's so bad about having the name April. There's nothing wrong with it if you're a female. I'm sorry, but If you don't know by now. I'm going to tell you just like I told Destiny. I'm a man. A full grown man at that. I was born with an uncircumcised penis and a nut sack. I also urinate standing up, and I have testosterone flowing through my veins. I know that you're shocked just like all of the people I've come in contact with and are wondering how I got such a feminine name. I'll get to that in a second. Let me tell you a little more about myself first.

A few rain clouds lay silent in the eastern sky; however a beautiful southern sunset greeted two dozen friends that gathered at Sadie's for an evening cookout on that celebratory evening. Immediately upon arriving Sadie sashayed her guest to the back yard, where her husband, James had spent weeks stringing thousands of miniature lights and decorating the yard with Sadie’s favorite colors pink, green and a hint of baby blue sprinkled about. The guest sat upon lawn furniture, handcrafted by James, and strategically place under the ancient Weeping Willow that stood with pride in the center of their back yard. Under this fairytale motif they sipped iced tea and shucked succulent Chesapeake Bay oysters as the corn roasted on one grill and meat on

It had been a nice day, but the sky darkened now, and I felt great globs of rain fell against my coat, and dripped down past my shirt collar, sending icy little snail trails down my back. I looked out at the water as I stood, and I saw her. I saw her standing from the waves, and being lifted by the waves, and I saw her mouth fall open with a toothless grin, and her hands, with their long fingers and pointed nails, reached out to me. I tried to tell myself I was just seeing things. I was as delusional as Molly was. It set my mind at ease for just a few moments, but then I stepped from the sand of the beach to the half-rotten wood of the peer. But I hadn’t been walking, had I? The peer was a good six metres from the stairs, and yet I had ended up there within seconds of stepping into the beach. I had looked into her blank eyes, and I felt like I was now where she wanted me. The world seemed to shift around me. The rushing of the waves was replaced by silence so tangible I could feel it sliding in through my ears and my mouth, and circling around me like an animal stalking its prey. I turned, and I could see my wife on the beach, and I could see her smile. I tried to shout at her. I tried to tell her to leave, and to ask her why she was here, but the silence choked me. The wind picked up and it bit right through my clothes, and fog fell and rose from the

It was a bright Sunday morning in California, Bakersfield on Maple Street. Maple Street is a street that is peaceful with a neighborhood of cottages except for one. The one that Tommy Jones lived in. All his neighbors knew Tommy was spoiled. His parents think that he should have whatever he wants since he is little. Tommy had everything his heart desired. A flat screen TV, a remote control car, a king size bed (that’s only for him), swimming pool, trampoline, a playground, computer, etc. His older sister, Jessica, on the other hand didn’t really care what she had or didn’t have. All she needed was a book and she’d be delighted. Of course to afford all that, they needed to be rich. Tommy’s father was a lawyer and his mother was a surgeon. Since they get them whatever they want, they expected their kids to get good grades.

The wide field, brimmed primarily with yellow, sprouting, lush, wild flowers and tall green grass, swayed gently in the crisp breeze. Deep within an abundance of towering pine trees, where the bluebirds chirped and the frogs croaked, babbled a crooked creek. The air was filled with the smell of moist bark and sweet blossoms, the sound of bees buzzing, and the feeling of serenity. I had lived in my very own oasis where all of my childhood dreams were born. I dreamed of all my “firsts”, my first kiss, my first love, my first high school dance, my first varsity soccer game in the stadium under the lights, my first day as a college student in a foreign city, my first paycheck as an employee, and countless more. My siblings and I staged and acted out various versions of the perfect little family with the house located in the countryside surrounded by the white picket fence to complete the stereotypical American Dream. My imagination was sparked by this magical sanctuary where I led my siblings in the pursuit of our hopes and dreams for a future that now in retrospect seemed untouchable.

As I made my way down to the house, I noticed this warm and welcoming feeling in my chest. Home. Once I made it to the house, I knocked twice. “Coming!” a soft voice said. A few seconds later, the aroma of freshly baked cookies hit me as soon as an old lady opened the door. “My word, if you and your baby stay out there any longer you’ll freeze!” the old lady said. As soon as she said that, she opened the door wider so I could come in. I stepped in. Warmth came over me and covered me like a blanket. I looked down to check on Gabriel to see if he was okay and to my delight he was in my arms sleeping peacefully. His small chest rising and falling with each breath. Then my mind wandered to Fiona, her red hair and blue eyes just made me get this warm feeling inside. Love. “Well you must. Can I get you and your baby something to eat?” the old lady said snapping me out of my thoughts. “Ohh umm,” I said, shaking my head slightly while thinking about what I should eat. “I will have something warm and Gabe will have milk please.” The old lady then said, “Okay then, I will get you some hot chocolate and Gabe some milk” as she hurried off to the kitchen. While she was gone, I took in my surroundings. The old lady had many pictures of kids with big smiles on their faces and had decorated with garland and tinsel on many ledges. “Your drinks are ready!” yelled the old lady. Then, I made my way to her kitchen, and as soon as I entered the kitchen, I spied the