Slavery at a young age
You wake up at five in the morning
To the cold breakfast on the stand
NO one is there to hold your hand
While you tread out into the cold
Your body is quivering by noon
The sun is bright in the sky
The man won't let you have a break
Until the late windy night
This is how your life cycles
Everyday; morning till night
Your family has abandoned you
Nothing to live for, absolutely nothing you can do
Child slavery roams around the world
Like a sick and distant disease
So far many have tried to stop it from spreading
But they can do nothing but plead
We can stop child slavery if we all join together
Take the kid's out of their torture
The hearts will warm up and the smiles will spread
If we think of the changes we make
My sister's keeper essay
Most children are born for a reason. To have a baby in the family is not only a joy but a surprise. Everyday mother's go through having to wait for this baby to come so they can enjoy what it brings to the family. Now picture yourself being born for another reason. Not because someone loves and cares for you or wants you in the family. You are born to help someone who is already alive. They want your body to be used for someone else . In the novel " My Sister's Keeper" written by Jodi Picoult; we are introduced to Anna who was born to save her sister's life. "My Sister's Keeper" not only shows symbols of a changing life but why this is sometimes hard to stand up to the changes.
Everyone knows how changes can be. The small things like changing schools or moving to a different house verses the bigger things such as cancer or birth defect. A change that shows in " My Sister's Keeper" is how Anna tries to kill her sister. This symbolizes not Anna's disliking for her sister but the disliking of what she has to do for her sister. According to Anna, Kate is just as much a best friend to her as Kate is a sister. Another symbol would be the pillow; which doesn't even start on the first page. This pillow symbolizes death in a way that doesn't seem noticeable at first. Pushing a pillow against someone's face so that they could not breath seems like a horrible way to die. This again does not symbolize how much she hates and wants to kill her sister; but by how much impact this is having on her body and life.
Tiny babies are born and parents have to go through the feeding, changing, and the best part of all; loving their children. Is there really any other way to be treated as a baby. Truth is that yes, there is. Babies are born for other reasons as some may know. Some only truly love what this baby does for others; while others truly love their baby.
Revenge:
June 28th, 2030
The telephone is thrown aggressively against the wall. The stupid cord phone that is so old it is not even funny. The cycle happens all over again. We fight, cry, and then make up. I don't want it to be this way. My temptation for not already killing this guy; my husband, has been enough of my skills put to the test. He makes me so mad that pouring bleach down his throat would make me happy. He thinks that he owns every bit of my life including the things that I treasure. My phone, my car and my house. He will never touch one of those things. BANG, BANG. The shotgun goes off in the house. He was firing at me I just know it. This is the last straw. The minute he wakes up tomorrow, he won't know where he is; if he wakes up at all.
July 3, 2030
We had a fight and we made up. It is always like this. I know another fight will approach soon; so be prepared journal. BE PREPARED!
October 5th, 2030
He ripped out the only thing that I had left. He took it and threw it out in the street, hoping for someone to run over what I treasured so much. No, it was not a necklace . Not the wedding ring I also treasured. He threw out my heart. He cut me open, hoping to make everything better for himself; but he can't get everything he wants. He can't get the house I paid off with my salary, or the neon green convertible that held everything I loved. It may not seem right but I don't always play sweetly.
October 6th, 2030
This may be the worst possible thing to do to someone, but I murdered my own ex- husband. He had it coming and there was no way that he wasn't expecting it someday.
November 2nd, 2030
The killing…...
For me everything was easy. There was no way that I had to think twice about what I was doing. I had nothing and everything planned out. Of course getting him to sleep was the easy part. The person I used to love always fell asleep at 11:30; especially if he had something in him. . What I was still bothered about was of course how to kill my prey. It was harder than I thought I would ever have to take to kill someone. For your knowledge, my husband was very… what's the word? O, yes persistent on doing what he wants when he wants it done. So I had to try and make him come in the kitchen for a drink. It was 11:00 pm and I was getting tired. Beckoning him with the rum ( really full of bleach) he came into the kitchen. Pouring a drink was easy. At first he was sure on making it himself because he wanted to take a quick drink and head off to bed. This time I was persistent on him staying right at the table. After making sure my plan was fool- proof I gave him the drink. At first he bleach didn't kick in. I was about to pour him another one and make him swallow it when suddenly he fell over; trying to catch his breath. Full of gladness I quickly washed the glass, poured the bleach down the drain and looked back at him. He was struggling to the table to stand up. What did I have to do this make this guy dead? Quick before he calls 911… The phone cord. Quickly as ever I took this phone cord up and chocked him easily. At first I regretted what I had done. Then I poured myself a drink and suddenly felt better.The plan was fool proof. Tired and out of energy I went to bed. Turning on spa music, I carefully laid down in bed and slept peacefully through the night, knowing that my ex-husband was down in the kitchen sleeping happily in his pool of blood.
December 6th:
When the police found out, all they had as a suspect was me. I ran in for some questions, already having the waterworks turned on. There was no question after deliberating that I had not killed my husband. ( Excuse me, ex- husband) At least, that is what the police thought. I may be coming to his memorial and burying; but when everyone is retreating into the church for the dinner I set up, I might just spit in his grave.
January 2nd, 2030
New Years went by so fast. I made resolutions, of course who wouldn't. I said I would visit my mother more often. Read one book once a month, and last but not least try not to use all of my husbands money up in one day. People who think I murdered my husband, which I did, can think what they want. I will never be convicted..............
Goodnight....... Dear--- to be edited
Too Quiet
The quiet streets come to an uproar by midnight the night of December 16, 2077. Bodies were strewn across the street and there were ambulances blocking the roads. People came out their houses to see what had just occurred on their normally peaceful street. All of this seemed to be an accident just waiting to happen. None of these streets were plowed by big truck companies that normally snowplowed in the city. Then a freezing night would approach and the roads would turn to cold hard ice. Two hours passed and the night seems to quiet down. The houses down the street erupt with light and the voices questioning what had just happened. But one house had stayed quiet the whole night. No lights came out of the dusty shades and no voices echoed through the thin walls. The next day people would knock on doors and question people on what they saw or what they thought happened. The last door those people would knock on would be the address of 2345 West Maple Lane, South Virginia 44356. No one would answer and they would all walk in to a see small house; bare.
Lucille Declor was not a criminal at heart. She grew up in a normal city, with normal parents. She had never spoken much when she was younger. Lucille hadn't been the girl at school who knew everything, or everyone. She was the girl with the nerdy glasses and braces who was always in the spelling and geography bees. But what she had done the night of December 16, 2077 could not be mistaken for an accident to the officials. Now though it may have been dark the officials knew it was not an accident by how none of the cars had slid or flipped. These mini vans and Honda's were all just smashed into one another. Now what they had to find out was how to track down the criminal
' It wasn't me. Ok maybe it was me but I still didn't mean to do it. How was I supposed to know there would be a dozen cars coming down the street that night? I hadn't meant to kill all of those people. I didn't know I could control what people did. I just wanted to make them feel scared and afraid of what might happen next. I couldn't tell you, journal anything that I made them do, because the ways that they died were horrible. How could I have done that to ordinary people I didn't even know? Journal, I know that if you could talk you would tell me to stop writing all of this junk on your page and to go and turn myself in right now; but I can't die or go to jail. I know that there is no way I would ever get out of jail even if I had bail. The death chair was another option. They would kill me the way that I had killed all of them. Painful, gruesome, horrible deaths I made them all suffer through. I could tell you my whole life long story on why this had happened. But to shorten it up for you I had a horrible childhood. My mother and father were never home and even when they were no one knew I was there. So journal I wanted revenge at 20 years. I wanted to take it out on anyone and everyone. I'm so so sorry but I can't take back what I did.' Lucille turned into the Tresh Hotel. Dirty and ugly from the outside many had only dared to take a look at this place and drive off again. Unfortunately this was the only place the Lucille could afford. What awaited her inside was for her to find out.
Too Quiet
The quiet streets come to an uproar by midnight the night of December 16, 2077. Bodies were strewn across the street and there were ambulances blocking the roads. People came out their houses to see what had just occurred on their normally peaceful street. All of this seemed to be an accident just waiting to happen. None of these streets were plowed by big truck companies that normally snowplowed in the city. Then a freezing night would approach and the roads would turn to cold hard ice. Two hours passed and the night seems to quiet down. The houses down the street erupt with light and the voices questioning what had just happened. But one house had stayed quiet the whole night. No lights came out of the dusty shades and no voices echoed through the thin walls. The next day people would knock on doors and question people on what they saw or what they thought happened. The last door those people would knock on would be the address of 2345 West Maple Lane, South Virginia 44356. No one would answer and they would all walk in to a see small house; bare.
Lucille Declor was not a criminal at heart. She grew up in a normal city, with normal parents. She had never spoken much when she was younger. Lucille hadn't been the girl at school who knew everything, or everyone. She was the girl with the nerdy glasses and braces who was always in the spelling and geography bees. But what she had done the night of December 16, 2077 could not be mistaken for an accident to the officials. Now though it may have been dark the officials knew it was not an accident by how none of the cars had slid or flipped. These mini vans and Honda's were all just smashed into one another. Now what they had to find out was how to track down the criminal
' It wasn't me. Ok maybe it was me but I still didn't mean to do it. How was I supposed to know there would be a dozen cars coming down the street that night? I hadn't meant to kill all of those people. I didn't know I could control what people did. I just wanted to make them feel scared and afraid of what might happen next. I couldn't tell you, journal anything that I made them do, because the ways that they died were horrible. How could I have done that to ordinary people I didn't even know? Journal, I know that if you could talk you would tell me to stop writing all of this junk on your page and to go and turn myself in right now; but I can't die or go to jail. I know that there is no way I would ever get out of jail even if I had bail. The death chair was another option. They would kill me the way that I had killed all of them. Painful, gruesome, horrible deaths I made them all suffer through. I could tell you my whole life long story on why this had happened. But to shorten it up for you I had a horrible childhood. My mother and father were never home and even when they were no one knew I was there. So journal I wanted revenge at 20 years. I wanted to take it out on anyone and everyone. I'm so so sorry but I can't take back what I did.' Lucille turned into the Tresh Hotel. Dirty and ugly from the outside many had only dared to take a look at this place and drive off again. Unfortunately this was the only place the Lucille could afford. What awaited her inside was for her to find out.
