Phillip Spencers Monologue

Today is the day. Today is finally the day that I am to be released from the psychiatric hospital since that day when I passed out. I know last time you heard from me, I was broken and unhappy and had hate for the world, but i'm in the best state i could ever be, I really am I tell you. Oh how excited I am to see old Phoebe. I haven’t seen her since i’ve been admitted into this wing of the hospital. Oh I wonder how much she has grown< She was so intelligent and pure, nothing could ever compromise her. So I hope nothing hasn’t. I was retrieving most of my belongings before I left, when I happened to run into old Ms. Patty. This was my nurse and oh, how lovely she is. “Oh hello Holden, leaving so soon ?” she said so to me with great compassion. Naturally I said, “Why yes sadly, I must go on with myself and enjoy the world, perhaps find myself a woman”, I said this suave as hell, I tell you.

Face pale with terror, Adam's shaky hand moved to switch on the bedside lamp. Images of Fire and Brimstone, and writhing figures, - men, women and children all - screaming in pain as flames consumed their bodies, flowed through his mind. Eyeballs exploded, and liquefied flesh oozed into fiery lava pits, leaving nothing but a collapsed pile of charred bones on the ground before moments later the victim's human form was resurrected in its entirety, and subjected to the same agonising fate again. Over and over, ad infinitum.

The other Wes Moore written by Wes Moore is about two completely different life stories that have completely different outcomes. Two young men with the same name, lived in the same neighborhood, yet they chose two different paths to walk through life. The author chose going to school and getting an education. The other Wes Moore chose the path of drugs and alcohol. Each Wes had events that help shape the path they would walk on through life.

FORBIDDEN...YES PLEASE! Read it in one sitting and every page I turned made me, even more, anxious. I fell in love with Spencer the British hottie and the sweet Kat. It's packed with mesmerizing and sizzling romance in its unique way.

I know it's been a while so I have a lot to talk about. There has been so much going on from John Proctor, to Betty, to my parents. I wish everything would just work out how it’s suppose to, but everyone keeps messing it up! I keep getting flashbacks from seeing my parents being killed beside me. It haunts me. I don't really put my faith and love into anyone anymore because of that. But, for some reason I cant help feeling this way towards John Proctor. I miss him every second I am not with him. Whenever i'm in my room I feel like he's outside looking up at my window waiting for me. I know he loves me but he just cant admit it anymore? I'm scared he's pulling away. I love him so much and I need him. We are soul mates and are meant to be together

Marcus creeps up, slowly dribbling the ball looking at me like I’m his prey. He shoots.

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.

Dr. Hastings runs over and sedates Wilbur again. Wilbur falls back asleep. There is a buzzing on Dr. Hastings phone. DR. HASTINGS Ugh!

I wish I was a beautiful little fool, oblivious to the motives of both my lover and my husband. As I drive away with the imposter, away from the place where I would have reinserted my power and dominance and received the satisfaction of material wealth, I was blindsided and made to look like the fool I dreamed to be. Your wealth misleads the con hidden underneath your magnificent suits and the extravagant parties thrown under your leadership. Looking at you next to me, heartbroken as if I were the one that betrayed you seems absurd to me in the least. My biggest regret was not leaving Tom but, crying into your crime ridden shirts, wasting tears that could be shed for a more powerful man. Are you really the great Gatsby that others perceive

My name was called eighth and my hands trembled as I walked into the cramped room. The floor and walls were covered in light blue tile and there was a slight scent of filth and dirt, but it was concealed by the overwhelming smell of bleach. Standing in front of me was an average looking petite woman with greying brown hair in a lab coat and two hairy, burly men in light blue doctor’s scrubs, they all looked menacing, which did not help with my concerns and in that moment I knew my fears were justified.

“That may be so, but I’m just meeting you. And I’ve known Phil for years. So I’m going to continue loving Phil,” Dan stood up, taking me with

Daniel Smith is a 15-year-old student from New York that is entering the foreign exchange program. He has brown hair, brown eyes, and he normally wears a blue plaid shirt and blue jeans and he likes dogs. Right now he lives with his parents and Twin brother James in a house in the suburbs; about 2 hours from the city airport. His brother, James Smith is his identical twin brother, they wear different clothes so people can tell them apart.

“Don’t talk to the stars, but let them talk to you” We found this written on a piece of paper together with Mike’s full name and the company address, she kept in her brown bag. There was no explanation. We didn’t know why this lady came to find Mike, but clearly, she had a reason. I hate winter, but a huge part of me preferred to live in an ice cube for the past year and I ignored the lightest touch of a sunbeam, which traveled from far to melt down the cruel water diamonds surrounding my heart.

William felt the ever-so-soft caress of her fingers across his nametag. A thud the equivalent of the deep, concussive boom of fireworks unleashed during the grand finale of a July 4th cascade pounded in his chest. William’s knees turned to Jell-O. He stumbled backwards into the table and managed to steady himself without upending the entire array of refreshments. A piece of half-eaten miniature carrot caught in his throat. William coughed in a reflexive fit, but the burst of air failed to dislodge the meddlesome vegetable from his throat. Terror gripped William as the once easy breathes refused to traverse the carrot. The panic intensified when the specter of someone giving him the Heimlich maneuver in front of this exotic woman materialized in his mind. William punched his chest with his right fist, buckled over, and coughed violently. The carrot dislodged and launched from his mouth, landing with a wet thwack on the floor next the woman’s high-heeled foot.

“Okay, Phillip, I need you to try to understand what it is I’m about to tell you.”