Thing's Gone Monologue

As I looked up, the sky was dark the sidewalk illuminated by the streetlights. The sound of crickets and cars echoing through my ears. I walked home that night, tears in my eyes. I was leaving, I couldn’t handle it anymore. The meds, doctors, psychiatrists nothing was working, our lives were in constant danger. By the time I got home the car was gone. By the time, I finished packing it was dawn. The sun creeping in through the shutters. For the next couple of days, I crashed at Jason’s before I headed South. I heard my cell ringing, it was mom… I let it go to voicemail.

You feel an intense, out-of-the-skin awareness of your living self—your truest self, the human being you want to be and then become by the force of wanting it. In the midst of evil you want to be a good man. You want decency. You want justice and courtesy and human concord, things you never knew you wanted. There is a kind of largeness to it, a kind of godliness. Though it’s odd, you’re never more alive than when you’re almost dead. You recognize what’s valuable. Freshly, as if for the first time, you love what’s best in yourself and in the world, all that might be lost. At the hour of dusk you sit at your foxhole and look out on a wide river turning pinkish red, and at the mountains beyond, and although in the morning you must cross the river and go into the mountains and do terrible things and maybe die, even so, you find yourself studying the fine colors on the river, you feel wonder and awe at the setting of the sun, and you are filled with a hard, aching love for how the world could be and always should be, but now is

I weave our fingers tight and I squeeze hard. I've been betrayed by both my parents in a single night. And I look her up and down, and then leave my mother standing there, her shoulders slumped and shaking. She calls me back, but there's no venom. There's nothing in it anymore.

The last thing I saw was my alarm clock flashing 1:07 AM before her rancid hands gripped my mouth shut. She dug her nails into my chest, muffling my plait of agony with her other hand.

I stood petrified. What had happened to me? My father had just been struck, in front of me, and I had not even blinked. I had watched and kept silent. Only yesterday, I would have dug my nails into this criminal's flesh. Had I changed that much? So fast? Remorse began to gnaw at me. All I could think was: I shall never forgive them for this.

I used to be proud of who I was. I used to be free, but I’ve fallen, slowly stripped bare of all I was and could have been. I resent them, those who gruesomely ripped me from my haven and shackled me beneath their feet. I resent the world for abandoning me in this hell, leaving me to suffer. I resent who I have become, a puppet, used only for their entertainment. The devil only grows within me, plaguing my mind during the sleepless nights. Feeding images into my mind. Images of their blood splattered across the walls of their beloved blue and red (tent). My teeth sinking into the fatty flesh of their neck. The horror painted on their faces as I gleefully avenge the loss of my sanity. And I detest myself. I loathe the satisfaction that I feel fantasising about their murder. I fear myself, and what I have become under their control. I yearn for the days I spent in my

I’m a pale imitator of a boy in the sky With a cap in his hand and a knot in his tie I’m the light in the mall when the power is gone The shadow in the corner, just playin’ along I’ma lay right in my bed, I’m rolling aside But if I get a car, I’m roamin’ to rob Because I know if I ever chill of livin’ to you You’ve got a volunteer, and you don’t know what to do You’d stop

I was sat on the marble floor of our house next to a big pile of glass that used to be an ornate vase, hoping that my mom hadn't heard the crash. But judging by the sound of quick clacking coming closer every second, I was fresh out of luck. “ALICIA MANON JANE WHAT DID YOU DO?” Her bright blue stilettos that she wore all the time” because they were a ladies shoe” blocked my vision. I looked up and saw the rage that marred her usually gorgeous face. “You’re so useless I swear, ‘m not sure why god decided to curse me with such a burden lIke you” Even at my young age, I could probably recite this speech by heart. I was always “useless” or “good for nothing” sometimes, I even got the occasional“I hate you and I wish that I never had you”, but those were reserved for specIal occasions when no one else is around. She harshly grabbed my arms and forcIbly pulled me up from my position on the floor, I remember feeling her long blood red nails dig into my flesh. She led me upstairs to my room and before she locked me In my room yelled, “ Maybe In here you’ll learn how not to be such a burden to

I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I

My drama paragraph: Your mother's "trying to help" days are coming to an end, and the time is coming to let it go. This is a final attempt to reach you saying everything conceivable down to the last atom of my energy. Being strong-minded (in your head) hasn't allowed your heart and spirit to listen and hear the pleas from your children, Grandpa, sister, and parents!!! If this last "try to help" as your "fairy godmother" doesn't work, your parents' twilight years will be peaceful, but with deep sorrow.

My life was flashing before my eyes, I was realizing what was happening death was coming. Cold and stillness filled the room while the feeling of death started to overtake my body it was a different feeling but it had to come. My limbs felt heavy and I thought real slow everything was slowing down. Just then something odd happened like nothing I ever thought some sound came into the room an annoying buzzing creature.

Hearing the hit of the ball upon the bat from afar, I contemplated life whilst I ruled from atop my plastic fortress, but not all was peaceful in my kingdom. The evil force that cast me into the abyss from whence came my kingdom had returned. The shrill screech that was the call of the Evil Playground Lady resounded through the air.

It seems pathetic really. Writing to a diary after all that’s happened. But I guess it’s kind of comforting. Because if I read back a page Sebastian’s still alive. And I’m still happy. And I can forget that he’s dead. It seems so much worse writing that. Admitting that he’s gone. For good. And never, ever coming back. If I could swap, I would in an instance. I’d be in a better place. And my eyes wouldn’t sting and my stomach wouldn’t hurt from crying. And Sebastian would move on. With his life which, don’t get me wrong, I would like to do, but how?

It was a Tuesday evening. I remember what was going through my mind, and what my surroundings were like that evening. I recall not feeling good enough, feeling like a waste of space. All the tears that continuously ran down my face. One by one, I tried to wipe them off my cheeks as they continued to roll down. I looked up videos on how to take apart a disposable razor and when my searches were deemed useless, I figured it out on my own. I knew I didn’t keep scissors in my room, but I always have nail-clippers. I slowly clipped the outside of the blades off and sat there. I held the blade in my shaky hand. All I did was cry and pray for God to help me, lead me in the right path. I feel like I didn’t actually want to see the path that God was laying out for me. I was completely blind to any logic. Somewhere deep within me told me that I needed to do it, that it was suppose to happen to me. I knew that is was gonna happen that night because I had one again put myself in a predicament that left me hurt and even more confused on why I deserved to be alive. As the night carried on, oh so slowly, my dog must have sensed my distress because Gage sat at the door of the stairs whining and pawing. I silently wept as I sat on the edge of my bed wondering why I was never good enough and why I was such a disappointment. I decided what I was going to do, and that decision hurt the people that love me the most. I

One word: Brilliant. That’s what “Gone Girl” is. I’ve never been in favor of Novels turning into films with the exception of The Harry Potter Sequel of course, but this film surprised me, knowing that I read the book. “Gone Girl”, a film filled with entertainment, a wicked clever piece put together to have the audience on their toes engaged in the mystery. This film tells a story in the beginning of a man who may have or may not have killed his wife. With his closed off and isolating personality people who believe his innocence slowly start to wonder if he really did it. Nick Dunne (Ben Affleck) a college professor, married to Amy (Rosamund Pike) who disappears on the day of their anniversary, creates a case that becomes a murder investigation