Sunday, May 18, 2014

The Heist

It was silent, as it always was during this time of night. People were sleeping in their beds and the streets were empty but a few homeless men, prostitutes, and drug dealers all looking to make their dough. The moon shined a dull light tonight; the perfect light for them. They moved quickly and quietly throughout the various neighborhoods.  They hopped fences and climb over walls with amazing speed and agility. Their all black clothes and black face scarves did well to hide their young features and their large backpacks carried nothing more than small knives and gloves.  Finally they made it to their destination. Picking a small window on the rear of the building, they quietly unscrewed the caps on the window and swept through.
“I don’t want any mistakes. BJ, you and I are going to grab the money but first Tony you get on that alarm system. When everything is set, we meet back here at exactly two hundred hours.”The heist begin.
            Tony, BJ, and Danny have been friends since they were five and have been stealing from pawn shops, small banks, and jewelry stores since they were 10. They’re not rich but they’re not poor either. It’s the thrill that gets them, or at least what got Danny when he stole the vodka glass from the drugstore near his house. He only wanted the bottle because of its decorative blue and clear design. He convinced the others to follow along and each heist there after improved their speed, agility, and cleverness until they could rob a store so good it was as if the store was never robbed at all.
 “Come on where you,” Tony grunted.  He had to find it. It was the only way they were going to get away with this. He scanned the walls frustrated until his flashlight beamed over a gray electrical box.
“Well hello there”, he said with a smirk and he begin working the cords inside the box, cutting off security cameras and laser floor traps that triggered the alarm system if you stepped in its beam.
“Your turn”, said Tony and BJ and Danny begin ransacking the jewelry store. When the boys first started out they stole everything in sight but Tony realized that that was how the cops would find them so they robbed strategically. So they only took money, this way the cops could never find them. BJ and Danny grabbed their sum of money and one by one the boys left the store. That’s when they heard the sirens.
“I thought you turned off the alarm systems,” exclaimed Danny.
“I did,” said Tony nervously and the boys ran faster but it wasn’t fast enough for the cops who were hiding out near the store. They encircled the boys and demanded that they raised their hands. BJ wasn’t going down without a fight and tried to charge at one of the officers before he shot BJ in the chest.  The two boys screamed but their protest meant nothing to the cops who slammed them to the ground.

The cops had driven the boys to the hospital because of BJ but they had Tony and Danny chained to the ER chairs.
“All you have to do is tell us why you did it,” one of the officers goaded. Danny spit in his face and the officer gave him a hard slap to the cheek.
“Where’s BJ?” asked Tony. The officer laughed.
“I hope God has a jewelry store in heaven because it sure as heck going to be nicer then the place you two are going.”

The two boys begin to cry and the heist ended. 

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Life on a Road

          It was nighttime. The city was alive and filled with neon lights that shined from storefronts, skyscrapers, and clubs. There was music and the laughter of people dining together in the restaurants and small cafes that lined the downtown area of Amsterdam. But it all meant nothing to Anna. She could not hear the music nor see the pretty lights. All she saw was the road. She zigzagged throughout the streets of Amsterdam, avoiding the roads that lead to the waterfronts where people dined on boats happy and content. Anna hated those people because they knew what happiness was and she did not. She hated those people because they were loved and cared for by someone and she never was. Anna hated those people because even though they suffered pain and struggled, they were never alone but Anna always was.
          Hey watch it! exclaimed a pedestrian who was nearly nicked by Annas motorcycle as she streamed past him. He doesnt matter, thought Anna. You dont matter, her conscience thought back and instantly Anna was reeled back to a French colonial in Vancouver.
          Hurry up Anneth or youll be late! yelled Dorothy their housekeeper.
          I dont know why she bothers trying. She looks like a dork no matter what she wears, said her sister Hayley.
          Or a butt faced foot, exclaimed Hayleys friend and the two girls laughed hysterically.
          Anna walked down the stairwell. It was the first time in a long time that she felt good about herself. It was earth day, the only day of the year that mattered and it was all because of him. Andy, the beautiful cancer patient she saw every week while volunteering at the hospital. He loved the earth and always smiled his dimpled smile whenever he spoke about ways to help the environment and make the world a better place for everyone. He was the only one who did not laugh at Anna and call her out of her name. The only one who did not bully her and call her a slut simply because she decided to look pretty one day. He was the only one, until he wasnt.
          A tear streaked down her face as her mind reeled back to the present. Its all your fault, her conscience snarled. Your lips are poison and your body is nothing more than an infectious gangrene that never goes away. You made him leave; murderer of all hopes and dreams.
          SHUT UP!!! screamed Anna and she barreled down the streets faster. But it was too late, she was already gone.
          Youre not dumb, ok. They love you.
          No they dont. You don't see the way they look at me. Its like I dont belong to them, like I dont matter.
          Shut up ok, because you do matter.
          No I dont!!! They dont love me. No one does.
          Thats not true. I love you.
          You love everyone.
          No. I dont love everyone. At least not the way I love you.
          You cant love me. I cant be loved.
          That is not true!! Youre beautiful and you're special and everyone can see it but you. Who cares what they think? They dont matter. You matter, and you matter to me.
          She had said goodbye to him, hoping to see him the next day. Except there was no next day, at least not for him. When she returned to the hospital his room was empty. New bedspread covered the bed and already a new patient was being wheeled into his room. She had never cried as hard as she did that day. Andy with the beautiful blue eyes and dimpled smile was once her best friend, her only friend and now would never be anything again.

          He loved you and all you did was whine like a dog with its tail between its legs. You didnt deserve him. Why cant you just leave me alone?! She screamed and drove faster and faster until she was no longer driving, but floating into her own subconscious, staring at her life. Her mother with that jealous scowl, her step-father with his lustrous gaze, her sister with her benevolent eyes and all the girls and boys at school. They spray-painted her locker and mocked and teased her for just being Anna. She remembered Andy and the bathroom stall she sat in alone during lunch. She heard laughter, screaming, and crying until she heard nothing at all.  The light faded and she realized that she was still on her bike barreling towards a man walking in the middle of the street. She stopped. He turned towards her and looked at her as if he knew who she was, because he did. She got up from her bike and removed her helmet. She knew shed never forget. He embraced her and when she looked up into his beautiful blue eyes, she knew it was over. "I love you too." she whispered. and he kissed her. She was finally free.

Monday, May 12, 2014

Misfits of a Little Cat

The sun shined through the four paneled window into the kitchen. It beamed a reflective shade on the pots and pans that hung from the pot rack above the island. It cast shadows off of the various knick knacks on the counter before highlighting the kitchen sink and the refrigerator in a glistening white and silver. No one was home in the beautiful downtown loft, no one but Snowball, the cat that the owners of the loft adopted from the pound three years before. He was a strange cat, Snowball. His green eyes did not match his orange and white fur and his long whiskers always brought the attention away from his pink nose. He was very small and was constantly lost in the shuffle of furniture and the movement of people around him. He was different from other cats.  While most cats purred and meowed their feelings and complaints, Snowball stayed silent, as if he decided that his emotions should never be shared with anyone or anything; even to those who loved him the most.
Snowball’s day started and ended like any day, he would awaken from his long slumber, peek open one eye to check his surroundings of any new things that the owners may have brought in from the world outside the loft, then pad slowly and softly to the kitchen where a warm bowl of milk and fish would await him on the linoleum floor.  After eating he would use the litter and lay down in his usual spot in the living room, in a blanketed basket next to the couch. The owners would pat him and try to get him to exercise either by casting lasers beams from the back of a pen on the wall or throwing out the blue rubber ball that Snowball rarely played with. But Snowball never budged, too afraid that one movement of fun could hurt him. Today, however, was different. The owners were getting a new pet, a creature that did not meow nor bark but squawked. Rainbow, the blue, red, and green colored parrot that repeated every word the owners would speak. She was loud and fidgety. She flew from one place in the loft to another, without an ounce of smoothness or grace. Snowball did not like Rainbow because her raucous attitude lasted all throughout the night until she tired herself to sleep, leaving Snowball anxious and stressed in the morning. The owners were fond of Rainbow because her rambunctiousness lifted the loft into high spirits and laughter. For a long while the owners forgot about Snowball and forgot to feed him one day.
“Skinny cat, skinny cat”, croaked the bird as she knocked her beak repetitively onto Snowball’s head.
The cat batted the bird away with his paw but that didn't stop Rainbow from lifting the grumpy cat with her claws up into the air. They flew about the rooms of the loft, twisting and turning, rising and then quickly descending. Rainbow squawked with joy while Snowball whined with fear. Finally Rainbow dropped Snowball onto the floor and he scurried to his bed, covering his face with his tail while he shivered in despair. A little while later the front door clicked and the owners bustled into the room.
“Scary cat, scary cat”, squawked the bird before flying to her nest.

The owners quickly walked over to where Snowball laid shivering in his bed. “Poor Snowball”, exclaimed the man. The woman lifted the cat into her arms and hugged him. “You will always be our favorite pet”, said the woman and Snowball purred silently to sleep. 

Friday, March 28, 2014

A Principle I Plan to Keep

One principle I plan to try and maintain for the rest of my life is to not be judgmental. Referencing to the book Great Gatsby, like Nick’s character I was also raised to not look down on others because I do not know their life situations. My friends however, find me to be very judgmental even though I try not to be. I like to look out for people’s best interest even if that person does not agree with my opinion.  If it comes across offensive, it’s not intentional. Although, I strongly dislike people who are judgmental, it would be very hypocritical of me to do the same. Also, it is in human nature for people to do whatever they please and if I don’t like it then I have to accept that because it is not my life and therefore none of my business. This principal is important to me to maintain because I do not want to lose friends and acquaintances because I judged them. The people of the world feel ashamed or proud enough of their own choices and I and everyone who is also judgmental should keep out of their way. 

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

A Classmate I am Thankful for

Out of all of the blogs that Mr.MaCarthy told his students to write about, this blog has to be the most strangest. Usually for thanksgiving, my previous teachers would let us have discussions or even do free writes about the things that we were thankful for. These discussions usually consisted of people talking about prized objects, activities and people who were not their peers; unless they talked about their friends. In this blog however, I have been assigned to think of a classmate that I am thankful for. Now after contemplating on this subject for a day, I chose to take the road less traveled by and choose someone who is not my friend and someone I barely know; Jonathon Marek. I personally think that Jonathon has an awesome liberal voice that every time you hear it you think, he has to have something intriguing or knowledgeable to say. It kind of makes the class more interesting because I hear a variety of voices other than Mr. MaCarthy. (No offense). So for thanksgiving this year I am thankful for food, family, shelter, all of my friends, and Jonathon for his awesome voice. 

Saturday, November 9, 2013

I Celebrate Myself

After watching the movie entitled Into the Wild a biographical film about a man who wanted to escape society to live a life in nature, I concluded that nature is not for me. Some people love being in nature and discovering new things about themselves that one might not find in the everyday life of society.  I on the other hand find my true self in solitude and that can be anywhere but in the middle of the forest.  Don’t get me wrong I love the beauty of nature and the wildlife. I would even go hiking in a forest every once in a while.  It is just a lot easier for me to contemplate my true identity when I’m in a comfortable solitude that I won’t be fearful of or feel entirely alone. For instance, a good solitude place for me would be in the park during the summer. There I can sit on a bench and just think not only about myself but also the environment that I’m surrounded by. This way I can have a moment of peace and I’m not entirely alone because I’m still within the vicinity of fellow park goers. I guess I can’t be a true transcendentalist because I don’t want to give up society and I don’t want to throw away my religion. Although some say that society and religion can plague you, which may be true for some people, but for everyone, those ideas still shape the person that you become rather you accept them into your life or not. In a way I disagree with transcendentalists (people who believe that religion and politics taint the purity of the individual) such as Ralph Emerson and Henry Thoreau simply because not everyone needs to run away to the wild as they stated that people should do, to express their individuality or any other idea of transcendentalism. You can express your inner-self anywhere within the “walls” of society that you find the most comfortable. At least that is what I do because I know that my inner self is made up of the society that I was born into. That all my influences come from the teaching and experiences that has happened right here in society. That is why I celebrate myself because I am harmonious with society, as Emerson would say. 

Monday, October 28, 2013

All About Edgar Allen Poe

Edgar Allan Poe is known for his exceeding talent in writing. His talent allowed him to create disturbing yet intriguing stories that gave moral lessons or quaint entertainment for his aberrant imagination. I actually enjoyed reading Poe’s stories, until they started to scare me because of his constant mention of the un-dead and his eerie descriptions. For example, in The Fall of the House of Usher Poe described his visit with a friend who needed his dire help to figure out his mental disorder. It all sounds interesting until you get into the history of the narrator’s friend and the gloomy house he’s living in, you kind of get freaked out. That was the same feeling I had about Poe’s Ligeia a story that really describes the death of Poe’s wife.  I could never understand why his stories were so disturbed until I realized that sometimes a story or any form of writing can reflect the emotions, events, and actions going on around or inside of the writer.   Poe was born on January 19, 1809. From the time he was born to the time he died on October 7, 1849, Edgar experienced quite a bit of grief. Before Poe was five he lost both of his parents and later lost his money, but that was due to his own gambling addictions. For a while, Poe had a decent life, including joining the army for a while (even though he got kicked out for financial issues) and publishing his famous stories. It was when his wife Virginia died of tuberculosis that Poe began to dabble into depression and alcoholism. Poe went through some troubling times throughout his life, and that was most likely the cause of his ominous work. I just wish that Poe’s wife hadn't died when she did or that Poe wouldn't have gone deep into his spiraling depression. Maybe we would have read a few cheerful stories, by Edgar Allan Poe.
Academy of American Poets: http://www.poets.org/poet.php/prmPID/130