Spencers Monologue

The rain had just stopped pouring, and we had all gathered in a park nearby, as a makeshift memorial for Johnny. It wasn’t really a funeral, we didn’t have the budget for that, and it wasn’t like his parents cared enough to give him a proper goodbye.

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.

I wish Joey would fight for me...if he loves me, he will fight for me, right? No...Joey will never fight for me or make the marriage work. In his heart, he believes that our marriage is over when our baby died...he is the most stubborn man I had ever met. Instead of saying that we are too incompatible, and if our baby survives...why can't he and I just forget the damn past and make the marriage work? Why can't he and I try again for another baby? Why must he makes it so damn hard for the both of us? Why is he so damned stubborn? Why?! Damn...I will never understand and I don't want to...maybe I should just move on and find someone who truly value me and never give up on me like he did...

Its is 1914 and joey a farm horse sold the the army and thrust into the midst of world war one. Into the western front when he is dragged away from his owner Albert his heart aches will he find him. Albert said they will meet again

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.

“Dear Evan Hansen, today is going to be a good day and here’s wh-” “We’ve been stuck on this island for how long?! And you’re still singing those stupid songs?” There she goes again, always yelling at me for singing my songs. That’s Kaylin. I know she means well, in her defense we have been stuck here for 288 days and not being able to listen to new music can really make a girl upset. Anyways, i stick my tongue out at her and we laugh. “Why are you guys just sitting there? We’ve got drinks to carry!” There goes emily again, She’s always the one telling us what to do. In a loving way of course, i mean we probably wouldn’t have survived this long without her keeping us calm, cool, and collected. Me and Kaylin go to help Emily carry the coconuts

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.

“Not ones our age.” I pegged him at no more than early thirties, but that could be due to the scruff coating his jawline.

“The gun is too old, it’s going to misfire,” mused Stanley as he fingered the trigger of his pistol. It was a small and weak gun that had been in his possession for many years. “I’m too nervous, I won’t be able to pull the trigger, let alone aim this thing,” he thought to himself in horror, his apprehension wreaking havoc on his nerves.

The air reeked of alcohol, the intoxicated breaths of young people colliding together over drunken slurs to create one distinct scent. She kept her head low as she made her way through the maze made by the seemingly endless crowd. Full of regrets, she was doing all she could to get out of there, the distraction turning out to be nothing more than a few drinks with people who didn't even know when her birthday was. The song finished abruptly, followed by simultaneous cheering. She kept moving, weaving in and out of people with fierce determination until she walked right into him. She murmured a quick apology and went to continue when the familiarity of the figure in front of her hit. She hesitantly looked up, heart dropping into her stomach at the mere sight of him.

The plan is simple. I don’t see how it wasn’t, but, of course, some people disagree. Jensen and Thorn, mostly Jensen, but I can’t really blame him. He doesn’t know Scelestus City like the rest of us do. He’s being cautious and maybe overthinking things. Thinking is overrated. Thorn is only objecting because she’s being Thorn and she thinks that if we don’t think of ourselves first then we’re being just plain stupid. She doesn’t think it’s a good idea if we go after Flich and Walker.

"Well aren't you a ray of sunshine" I reply. The he whacks me in the back of my leg with a club and I fall to my knees.

Gatsby is so sweet. I’ve always loved that smile of his. It feels like the past, but the good parts. I just love him in general (I still think that Nick is secretly in love with me.) Gatsby lived across the bay and I didn’t even know. I never noticed the big parties he threw. I know I only went to one party, but I had so much fun. It felt so nice just to go out and meet all these amazing entertainers. One thing I’m unsure about is if I want to leave Tom for Gatsby. Tom is a cheater, but I loved him once. We also have a daughter together. If the time ever came where I had to choose, I don’t know who I would pick. one day, I’ll decide.

Grace tied a piece of twine into a bow around the daisies and balanced the bouquet carefully, so the flowers would hide the death date on the gravestone. She had purposely left the dash between the life and death dates visible. She wanted to see the tiny etching in which her aunt’s life was supposed to have taken place, not that any one person’s life could be fit into a dash. However, in the whole scheme of things, maybe their lives were just a bunch of dashes.

Ryan was never much of a talker. All throughout school his teachers were amazed by his good grades. Ryan loved learning, as he was growing up he learned as much as possible. He even went out of his way to learn as many languages as possible. He never let anyone on to how much he knew. He would rather observe than be the one observed. He would always sit at the back of the class and just watch the others during lessons.