Panic At The Disco: A Narrative Fiction

Phish has inherited the legacy of the Grateful Dead. A responsibility that includes: playing a different set every night, constant jamming and experimenting. Phish is trailed across the country by adoring fans that think their heroes can do no wrong. What makes them so special is that their music winds together. It is full of freedom and happiness. Their lyrics are totally original; they have this weird way of looking at the world and when they express this in their songs it takes you to a whole different level of thinking.

Then Jeffrey pushed through the milling cluster. I was right behind him. He walked straight up to his mother and touched her hip as she daubed at her chest. “Ma, we should go now.” It’s all he said.

I had the wonderful opportunity to observe my little brother, Joseph – or as he is most commonly known within my family, Jo-Jo. This hilarious little boy – who once approached me wearing my cats’ toy tunnel, carrying a sock in one hand and a fidget spinner in the other, told me that I could not join him in his play because “[I] did not give [him] any monies” – is now the focus of my paper. Before I delve into this observation summary, I would to give a little insight that is Joseph David Stirling. While conducting this observation, Joe shared with me that he was going to have a “new baby brother”. His name? Well, of course his name is going to also be Joseph David Stirling. I wanted to share this because, as you will see, he is such an interesting

Jacob's mother wakes suddenly and looks around the room as if she could hear a voice. She shakes her head.

It was sixth grade and my family got us tickets to see Nine Inch Nails. So the day came along and we made the long drive to St. Louis to go and see them. We got there around 3 hours early and they were people there with stands outside the arena selling Nine Inch Nails t-shirts, hats, buttons, you name it, they had it. So we sat outside the arena for the 3 whole hours and then finally they opened the door to get in and we were practically first through the doors. Right when we walked in there were even more stands selling merchandise than there were outside. So after getting popcorn, cotton candy, soda, all the snacks we would need for the concert we headed to our seats. After about 15 minutes of sitting in our seats

As I ate my Cheerios I wondered where my Dad and Brother where they had left last night without saying a word. My sister Kat was sleeping on the couch of our run down house, my mom was outside smoking her Camel smokes and, my other brother Dayrl was making breakfast in the kitchen. This is how things normally were but, Merle(the brother from before) was starting to act strange and he left us with our abusive Father more often and would come back a week later when he got back he said that he went to do some work but he wouldn't tell us what kind of work it was. A lot of times our Father beat us or mom he was an alcoholic but when we wasn't drunk he was a good guy. As I finished my breakfast Dayrl yelled from the kitchen. "Go wake up your sister!

I was getting annoyed and curious so I went to check and see what the hell it was. “Hello sister…” A voice said from behind me. “The hell?!” I said jumping from my current position and spinning around to see a figure about 5’4 in front of me. He was wearing a tee-shirt and sweat pants along with flip flops. It was dark so I couldn't make out his face but he looked young. His hair was short but a bit long. Maybe to his ears then going down to the back of his neck. “You hurt me…” The boy said as he gripped something in his hands. A knife maybe? No knives are somewhat curved and sharp. He was holding something small and long….a pen? “What are you doing in here?! Are you going to kill me?!” I demanded to know. “You don’t know who I am do you?” He said a grin popping on his face. “No!....Wait…..that voice.” It was familiar. Young but stern. Like a boy going through puberty. “I demand to know who you are!” I yelled. He looked up clutching his pen. He lifted it up and the lights turned on. I couldn't believe what I

I am about ready to jump out of my chair, FINALLY the bell rang. I sprint as fast as I can to get to choir. Today is auditions for the winter concert solo. My friend Lauren stops me in the hall. "Are you excited?" she asks. "Yes I am" I replied. As soon as we get to his class, we notice a microphone set up. As people pour in, Mr. Vandyke puts up our rehearsal outline to copy. He stands up to tell us what to do next. He is holding auditions in the practice room.

The song Always by Panic at the disco was released on their fourth album titled vices and virtues. When just reading the lyrics, the theme of this song is regretting losing a relationship. The song displays the poetic devices of a metaphor in the line where it is stated “I'm the light blinking at the end of the road” and “I'm a fly that's trapped in a web”. Alliteration is used when the line “Lonely, lonely little life” is sung. Also, the poetic device of repetition is shown when the artist repeats “It was always you, Falling for me, Now there's always time Calling for me”.

I am sitting on my bed on a Sunday evening at 6:00pm, listening to my brother jam out to the newest hit tunes, and hear the faint of sound of my young sister watching makeup videos on YouTube. All of the sudden my room fills with the overwhelming smell of garlic and I know in that instant that it is almost time for dinner. My mouth starts to water, and my mind begins to fill with all of the endless options for dinner. Could it be garlic bread with spaghetti? Or maybe it is garlic grilled chicken? Whatever it is, I could not be more excited. But then I hear my mom yell from the kitchen, “Savannah or Travis! One of you need to come set the table!” I went from pure excitement to mad in about two seconds. I stand up and walk down to the kitchen;

People may think of music as random noise. As for me, I thought so, too. Two years ago my best friend introduced me to a band called Panic! At The Disco. For a more pop-genre person, listening to an alternative rock band was not of interest. For the sake of her constant asking, I gave them a chance. One day, I put in my earbuds and stumbled across this one song, “Trade Mistakes” by Panic! At The Disco and it changed my perspective of music.

Mark is a successful logger and has a wife and son. He makes good money and can even perform one hundred pushups in a row. For some reason he isn’t happy though. He thought when he followed in his father’s footsteps he’d have it all. He now feels empty inside. He’s always away from his family and even though he makes money he doesn’t spend it much. He has no time. Today is one of the rare days Mark has off. His family has eaten dinner and is now getting ready for bed. His ten-year-old son Billy is playing with Legos. Out of the blue, Mark ask his son what he wants to be when he grows up. He’s horrified when his son replies” a logger like you dad”. Most parents wouldn’t really care if their young child had this reply but Mark did. He told his son that wasn’t an option. He didn’t want him to be disappointed when he found out the realities of the

The faint sound of music slowly becomes clearer approaching the stadium. The sound of exciting screams and singing lingers in the air. It is every millennial teenage girl's fantasy: a One Direction concert. A concert can be entertaining and exhilarating because one gets to see a favorite artist and experience something new.

At that moment the seven year old girl and her brother came down the stairs. The young girl sang out a good morning and Danny gave a small nod before returning his gaze upon the hardwood floor. Neil worried about her nephew. The boy who used to be able to light up the room with his smile hadn’t spoken a word in weeks. He never smiled any more and always looked tired.

Is that you, Jonesy? I asked because he usually had the longest stride, slowest run, and loudest footsteps. Nope, he replied. Then they stopped.” I look at their faces and Mom screamed: “DINNER’S READY!” We all ran to the kitchen and got our plates piled with homemade pizza. “Continue the story!” one of my brother’s friends shouted. “Let’s finish eating,” I said. “Darn!” all the boys said in unison. We all immediately started laughing. We sat around and finished off all of the pizza. We all went back into the living room, except me. I hung around to make sure my brother had his costume on right and it looked scary enough.