Review Of Alex Lake's 'Copy Cat'

The book, Acceleration, by Graham McNamee, is about a boy named Duncan, who works at the city’s Lost and Found, discovers a leather diary that belongs to a serial killer that Duncan nicknamed Roach, who is on the loose. Duncan finds out that Roach is targeting humans, specifically women, and tries to find the killer and stop him before it is too late. The main topic of this story is that mystery can make us do the unexpected. Once, the killer writes, “This is kids’ stuff… Need something BIGGER” (Mcnamee 47). Also, when Duncan was searching up books about murders, a certain passage from a book caught his eye, “Mason Lucas has a name for this ‘escalation of increasingly destructive aberrant behavior’... He calls it acceleration”(Mcnamee 88).

The mouldy, rotting, brown house stood in front of Emily, only fear keeping her feet planted to the ground. Moaning and creaking noises being projected from the house. The grass was damp from the evening fog and every time she took a step the mud squelched. The bottom step squeaked as she applied pressure with her foot, she let out a sigh of relief as the old structure hadn’t swallowed her up. The door, slightly off colour from the rest of the house, loomed over her like a giant as he reached for the brass door handle. A shiver ran through her body like an electric current, the musty smell of a house that had been long abandoned filled Emily’s nose. It was dim and uninviting. The furniture dusty and old, looking as if it would crumble to dust if she was to touch it. Mould ate away at

Ever since Alma was an infant she adored strolling through the narrow alleys and backstreets of Paris, one street in particular always deserted, made it her favorite. Alma had the street all to herself. As she pranced around in her favorite alley, she noticed a petite chalkboard for the first time. Intrigued by the board, she inspected it and acknowledged that written on the board was the names of various people, she concluded that she would write her own name. As she scribbled her name she recognized out of the corner of her eye the store across from her had a girl her age peering through the window towards her. As she investigated deeper she noticed the doll looked eerily exactly like her. As Alma steps forward the doll dashes away. Bewildered, Alma walks toward the store. As she gets nearer the door creaks open and Alma steps toward it, however the door seals shut. Discouraged, Alma walks away, but once more, something caught her attention. Turing around, she sees the door creak open yet again, and this

She was alone, she was scared, she had no idea that her normal life would be taken away for the next eighteen years… and hope is the sole reason that she survived it. For kidnap victim, Jaycee Dugard, the word “hope” brings back a flood of emotions and memories. In her chilling memoir, “A Stolen Life”, she describes a very personal experience in which she encountered at age eleven, where she soon learned just how important hope was. Dugard never saw it coming when a man named Phillip Garrido stole her from that bus stop on just another normal morning… or so she thought. Soon after, he took her away and held her hostage in his backyard for almost two decades. Interestingly enough, she has miraculously turned this cruel situation into a very inspiring story. Therefore, she proves to us that even if you’re living out your worst nightmare, you still have something to live for. For this reason, Dugard puts together a descriptive setting, her absurd relationship with her abductor, and personal symbols to illustrate how just a little hope can be the essence of surviving any situation life throws at you.

Chapter 1 A young woman appears out of nowhere and quickly catches up to another who's dashing along a moonlit lane. "Are we late?" She asks as she falls into step besides the older woman. "No not yet, but we need to hurry, we don't have much time." "Follow me," the older woman replies, and her dark cloak billows about casting shadows on the high stone walls that border the lane. They walked side by side in silence for a long ways and then through a set of huge iron gates swung opened before them and onto a narrow driveway. A manor house grew out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive, lights glinting in the windows. Gravel crackled beneath their feet as speeding toward the front door, which swung inward at their approach, though

I encountered a peculiar individual on the sidewalks this evening. I can recall that “ The girl stopped and looked as if she might pull back in surprise (Page 4)”. Nervousness shook my body as this mysterious girl applied a sense of mystery to herself. She asked me a variety of questions that i firmly responded too as I soon realized that she was our new neighbor. She was an odd one, she even described herself as crazy, the young ones these days.

At the front gate, there were weeds all over what used to be a garden. The door suddenly swung on its creaky hinges. Pitch black. You couldn’t see a thing in the cabin. Every couple of minutes shingles would fall off the roof. I was scared. Terrified. Then I heard creaking floorboards.

Inside the small house it was pitch black and completely silent. So dark, in fact, that one could not see their own hand in front of their face. The deeper into the house, the darker it became. Now into the family room and up the stairs.A distinct sound of scratching emanated from the door at the end of the hall. Inside, the room seemed to belong to a young girl, but only because the little girl nestled in bed deemed it so.

Suena was walking home and she felt like she was being followed, but she thought it was because of the horror movie she watched the night before. It was about a twenty minute walk for Surena to get home and she often enjoyed but that day she didn’t enjoy it. When she got home there was a note on her fridge from her mother saying she’ll be back in a couple of hours and that there was leftovers in the fridge. She still had that icky feeling that someone was watching her, she kept saying in her head that it was just the horror movie scaring her. Her dog Belle was eating the couch again, when her mom got home she’d be mad. Surena went up stairs to her bedroom and forgot to lock the door that day, when her mother warned her many times before to

Rain fell from the cloudy night sky and pounded against the ground, and standing off from a two-story house was a man dressed in a traditional men’s kimono. He watched as the parents of Sarah and Samantha, Dennis and Caroline climbed into their Maroon Honda Pilot as they did every Friday night at 8pm until midnight, leaving their two 16 year old daughters all alone. His eyes followed the car intently as it drove down the road with several different colored leaves blended together on the road and the two back tires of the car. Once it turned the corner, out of sight, he turned back to the house. As he watched them through the bay window leading to the living room he went through the facts of his victims over in his mind. While they were twins, they were very different. Sarah, the older twin was very adventurous while Samantha kept more to herself. Along with the facts of the girls going through his mind he was wondering if he was going to kill them right away or if he was going to take them to a house that he had set up for his victims in one of the abandoned houses in the woods. The man was brought out of his thoughts as another car pulled into the driveway. He relaxed once he saw that it was just the delivery guy from the local pizza place, right on schedule.

Have you ever had a friend that had a strange talent? Well Gone by Michael Grant starts a few of his chapters with characters learning they have these weird “enhancements” that could change their entire life. During the twenty-four chapters I have read this past week, a bunch of events has happened, which none of them were even close to being considered “tepid.” To summarize some of the main events, Emma and Anna, who are twin sisters, both disappeared on their fifteenth birthday; Sam learns that Caine is his brother and a multitude of other oh-my-god-what-will-happen-next ☺ situations. In this journal, I will be evaluating Sam’s search for love, truth, and identity.

The general themes that run through her novels show isolation, emotional distance in families and a progressive change in people’s personality. Sarah Dessen was

When she wakes to an empty cabin, draped in quilts and knitted blankets, her eyelids are swollen and crusted over, tongue heavy in her mouth. She barely has the strength to push herself up by her hands, let alone the strength to call out. Everything is dim, the shadows swaying and whispering strange, evil things in her ears.

“Yo I didn’t wanna enter but I had to!” she said pretending to have an heart attack. “What happened in there?” Alexia asked worriedly. It was a dark and gloomy night and there I was at the bottom of a long and windy dirt road, which partially connected to the main intersection of the town, at the end a large abandoned manor, guarded by a tall black fence with an even taller and creepier gate. The wind was howling and the thunder was crashing, I felt scared, I reached the gate, it was locked, I was about to go back when suddenly there was a massive strike of thunder and the gate cracked open, a voice in my head was telling me not to go in, but I was curious to see where the strange noises were coming from. I creeped up the few steps that were there  and stopped, the door stared at me, I felt like it was calling me in, I heard a bang from inside and quickly galnced at the window, then I looked again, taking longer this time to see if the glowing red eyes I saw were really there.

Angela set her cup down and walked back into the kitchen. Her heart told her what she would see before she saw it. She stood near the counter and stared at the jumble of boards on the floor, all pulled from the wall and solid door frame. The door itself was swinging back and forth on its rusty hinges. Whap-whap-whap. Each time it came back, it would smack the area of the frame which kept it from