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 …show more content…
If it at all concerns you, these are the events which occurred after I left you. I was rightfully excited after you handed me the money; it was the first time I was receiving something I wanted rather than unwanted garbage which others had forced upon me. I was so thrilled at this thought, I spent the night sleeping in front of the department store which carried the blue suede shoes of my dreams. This means, sometime after midnight, I sprinted approximately twenty blocks to go to a department store which I knew would not open until morning. With adrenaline shooting through my veins, I was not able to sleep for over an hour. To make matters worse, I was woken up at the crack of dawn by the sound store manager screaming in my ear. I convinced him I had money and was not some loafer taking advantage of him, yet he remained wary. As soon as the store opened for the public, I darted in and picked out the perfect pair of blue suede shoes. Yes, Mrs. Jones, they were perfect. I know because I practically walked the length of the whole department store ten times before choosing the right pair. I then proceeded to walk to the counter to buy this perfect pair. Do you know what the store owner said Mrs. Jones? He carefully examined my ten-dollar note and he said I was a fraud. A fraud! Can you believe that Mrs. Jones? Continuing on, being called a fraud really pushed me over the edge, especially since a woman as ‘honorable’ as you had given me the note and I did not doubt its authenticity for a second. So, I threw that perfect pair of blue suede shoes at the store owner, called him a dirty liar, and dashed away in hopes the police would not catch me. Unfortunately, my fate was not unlike that of the Gingerbread Man, and the police did eventually catch me. Still believing I had done no wrong, I tried fighting the police off. I was able to land a good blow on the short one’s cheek, yet that was the
Dr. Hastings runs over and sedates Wilbur again. Wilbur falls back asleep. There is a buzzing on Dr. Hastings phone. DR. HASTINGS Ugh!
“What do you think of it, Mr. Jennison?” An about fifty-year-old neighbor, Mr. Lawrence, spoke to me as he looked around the suddenly empty storage room.
I pushed the arm in front of me even deeper into the guy’s throat. It was much harder than it had been the first time and I felt his Adam's apple push into my skin.
I see people go through there Dailey routine like they are robots They're faces have no expressions and they have no thoughts Like an assembly line they organize Who knows what they see If I stepped in there shoes how would I see me Are they human Do they have a brain Are they being controlled, like someone controls an animal with rains I won't ever know what it's like to not be me
I feel that I did not do a very good job at being a very good husband towards you or being a good father to our kids. I blame myself because I tried to save you from being accused as a witch and I now I am being sentence to death. I don’t want to leave you, and our kids. I love you so much! Also, I regret having that fight with you. I never meant anything I said about your attitude “being frozen as beer”. I regret having that moment with Abigail, because I had a gut feeling in
A man, Dennis Rader, is sat at his desk writing on a piece of paper. His back is hunched over and to the side of him there is a small bin filled with balls of paper. In the background you can hear small children shouting and screaming, Dennis seems frustrated by this as he looks behind him and groans before concentrating back on his writing. The voice over starts.
“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.
Earlier yesterday I received a message from a beautiful 22 year-old girl who also has Treacher Collins Syndrome - a craniofacial disorder. She writes me and says: "Hi Cynthia, I hope you are doing well; I would like to know if you think that men really pay attention to the details of a girl's history of intimate partners; I guess that I am really asking if you think a man would mind that I have never been in relationship?"
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.
Ralph never should have been made chief. He does not let anyone have fun. All he does is boss us around. Thank god I left his tribe. Now I have my hunters who obey my every command. Now I have the respect I deserve. I am built to be a chief. I am strong, confident, assertive, and I don’t let feelings get in the way. And Ralph thinks he can come to my side of the island? No way. I am in charge here and he needs to leave. How dare he call me a thief in front of my hunters? Who cares if Piggy needs his specs. That fatty does nothing all day so there is no use for his glasses. That so called “chief” can’t even fight well. Ralph deserves a good beating for constantly going up against me. He thinks he is better than me just because of that stupid
and me Sally, my sister said. Do you know him ,I asked. No, what else could I say he has a gun.
I am on the hospital bed laying here thinking what did i do to deserve such a horrible life.
Dead but how who why? Here the paper read plain as day Danny Brown. That's my last name. But surely he's not my dad i read on father to Elizabeth and James Brown. That is my name and my brothers name right here in the paper.
Today was the worst day of my life. The boys in the bunkhouse decided that my old girl had lived long enough. They took her from me in the night and put her down. There was utter silence for the longest time and then I heard a shot in the distance. I would have happily taken her spot as this world just doesn’t have a lot to offer for me anymore. I knew she was getting old and had trouble getting around but that was my baby. And they just took her away like she didn’t even matter. The boy’s said I could pick any of Slim’s dog’s to replace my old girl, but I don’t think I have the time or the patience. We got a couple new ranch hands today, George and Lennie they seem nice enough, George is definetly the brains of that duo and what Lennie lacks
Some days I wonder if they miss me. Granted, what I did was unlawful and unforgivable. The trauma I have caused them is one wound that time is unable heal. I got what I deserved, and I had it coming to me. I woke up this morning to the unwelcoming voice of Garrett yelling, “Wake up maggot!” Out of muscle memory, I jolted out of bed, stood up straight and nearly saluted. It was at that moment I remembered that they did nothing better to me, just shipped me off to a third world country where I had to watch my brothers die in a senseless war. It only aided and abetted my drinking. Garrett opened my cage, letting me free for my sorrowful breakfast. Then again, if I don’t eat it it gets forced into my system through a pipe, but that