The Monster:
The broken heart that lies inside. The tears that go from the inside out. The throwing of the vases and the breaking of the good china. My life is like this exact day replayed over and over again. You can't stop what is happening because you can't see the hell I go through everyday. The pain and suffering that starts at 6 in the morning. You wouldn't understand because you will never know how it feels to be a monster.
Sarah' s Key Essay:
Imagine being away from something or someone you love. You are not being able to walk back to them and say you miss them and want them to come to you. In the story " Sarah's Key" we learn about a girl named Sarah ;who has lost something she cherishes and loves dearly. Though Sarah misses what she has lost there is no way to get back to where she has left before it is to late. Not being able to have what you love the most can leave emotional scars through out your life.
When you realize that something valuable has been taken away from you there is nothing that breaks your heart more than to see what you love fade away. Sarah not only dealt with this but saw with her own eyes how it had happened. These things that affect us in the past can also effect us in the future.
A scar from falling off a bike, a broken arm from jumping from a tree. All of these things can leave physical and emotional impact on our lives. In "Sarah's Key" Sarah also has physical and emotional raids. When she finds her little brother dead in the cupboard where she locked him in to protect him she is left with scars. She has emotional scars from seeing him and remembering him every night but she also has physical scars by the one way that she succeeded in…. Suicide.
Being away from something and never being able to go back. Being torn away and having the emotional scars that long with you forever. Not everyone can have a perfect life and most people will understand that. But for the people who are effected by disastrous things , we have to learn to get over our greatest fears and leap over the barrier that saves us from death.
Too Quiet:
Too Quiet:
The quiet streets came 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. Though, the houses down the street would 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.
Dear Journal: " 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. The door creaked open as Lucille walked in. Looking down she saw the roaches that scattered at the light. No one was at the check in desk so she took a key from behind the desk and went to room 100 where the key was supposed to unlock the door. Lucille stepped inside only to find a bed unmade and moths attached to the only window in her room. This is what Lucille got for being a criminal. She would never feel right about what she had done. What could she do though? Nothing, absolutely nothing. Lucille lay down and dreamt.
Chapter 2
Spiraling out of control. Tumbling toward the center of the earth. Wait, no, this was not the center. This was the rough patch of ground that she lay on while waking up. Sh*t. There was a dead rat sitting just feet away from her. Her hands felt like jello and her legs were numb. The carpet smelled like feet with mold. Lucille slowly lifted her head and looked at the clock. It was 5:30 am in the morning. "I could have had a warm shower, put on fresh makeup and a made a chocolate latte. Nope; because you decided to go and kill all of those people. You stupid.. Stupid…………"she whispered to herself. Then there was a muffle/snore. Frozen into place. The ground felt like it was giving away. Slowing and quietly Lucille got to her knees. Right on top of her bed was a old, white bearded man. Who was he and what was he doing in her room? Technically it wasn't her room since all she had was the key and she didn't pay for it; but she was still in the room. What was she to do? " Pack up your stuff and get out of here. Sleep in your car. Take the food and water from the fridge and slowly pull of the comforter and leave!!," She silently whispered to herself. He stirred and awoke with a start. All that she could do was stare at him. " GGOooooddd mooornining…." he said groggily to her. He was drunk and she knew it. Slowly, Lucille lifted herself off the ground. " I must go!" He was slow and he could barely move. By the time she was packed she was already pulling the comforter off the bed and heading out the door. The silent plea in the background made her almost turn back to go and help the old man but she couldn't. He was just drunk… He would get up….. Right?? Two flights of stairs later she was to the door when she heard the sound of someone coming down the stairs. Sprinting to the door and throwing everything in the backseat she waited. Praying, silently holding her breath. Ten minutes passed; twenty minutes passed. Nothing. She swung the door open and silently stepped inside of the Tresh Hotel. Convincing herself she made her way toward the stairs to see if she could help him. Dead silence. A pin could drop, a mouse could squeak and you wouldn't hear them for what Lucille saw made her scream louder than your ears could handle. ' I've killed yet another man journal. This wasn't my fault though. He tripped down the stairs and it wasn't my job to get him up. I was just a stand by already out of the hotel by the time he fell. You can't blame me for this journal. Right??? Though if I would have gone back and helped him he may still be alive. He just cracked his skull when he fell and journal this is not working. I can't keep accidently or purposefully keep killing people. One day journal I will get myself to stop. One day I will. No matter how long it takes there will be a day. "
Chapter 3:
The highway stretched out longer than the eye could see. The vast unwelcoming sea that stretched out before her was like a mountain Lucille wasn't able to climb Clinging to the steering wheel as if this small circular object may protect her from what she had to face in her life. What Lucille didn't know was that at the exact same moment that she herself was clinging to the steering wheel driving to the Nevada border, police were scrounging the Lincoln city of Wyoming. Neighbors had no idea what to say to police. They knew only one person who hadn't seen what had happened. Her name was Lucille Declor and she had gone missing.
Dear Journal: Well, I have made it!!! Ok through two states but that is a big journey for a criminal . OoOooO sure you may not be proud of me for this big accomplishment ; in my opinion but what can I say? HUH?? That is right nothing…. I never really knew how good it felt to journal to let my feelings out on paper. I'm sorry I was off topic. Well journal I can't say anything else. But I will say one more thing. I FEEL GREAT!!!! Though deep down inside I still feel guilt for what I did. Ahhhhhh life.
Chapter 4:
It was 5 a.m in the morning and Lucille had just started driving. Her goal was to get past the next border by sundown. Though Lucile knew that it probably wasn't gong to happen she blocked that out of her mind and concentrated on the goal in front of her. DON'T get caught. She appreciated her early morning behavior and how she never slept in past 6 a.m otherwise this may be harder than she thought. " Just concentrate on driving ahead and you won't have your mind bottled up into thought you never thought you would have. " What Lucille had been worrying about though was her mother. Of course the attention needed from her mother could never be re-payed back in her lifetime but the least her mother could do was acknowledge her existence. " But then of course, a phone call would have to be made and the police could track what was happening and then I would get caught and go to jail and die a hard life and never see the light of day till I am 80 and sitting….." At that moment Lucille came to a fast stop at the stoplight ahead of her. Her small body flung forward as the one and only car turned right. " What was I thinking trying to daydream and drive at the same time. I could have died. Just kidding, Wow! Am I really talking to myself again? Well this is awkward!" Just as Lucille said these words the stoplight quickly turned green and Lucille quickly stepped on the accelerator. The quiet road lay peacefully ahead of her.
Chapter 5:
The police searched Lucille's home thoroughly. They found nothing they could bring into the station and report. Not a finger print nor a footprint anywhere. It is like no one had ever lived here because it seemed like nothing was left. Though it was a small house with one bedroom and a bathroom in the upstairs, the police had taken three days to scrounge through the house. Nothing was found. No friends or family showed up and when half the people were asked who Lucille was no one would really answer. A questioning look grew on the peoples faces as were name was mentioned. Nothing, absolutely positively nothing about Lucille and her evil plan.
