Solitary

Author's Note: Well me and my sister just finished a National Geographic video on solitary confinement in this one prison in the U.S. What we saw in the video was pretty bad, they didn't even treat the prisoners as if they where people. Every moment they where out of their cell they where in chains, and the wardens made the prisoners strip down quite often, also when one of the people was freed, to drive him out they literally put him in a metal cage.The lady in charge of the facility was saying that they are trying to discipline the prisoners and that solitary confinement is like when parents put there kids in time out, to give them time to think, she seems to think that this is helping when in reality it is not. One prisoner said that after he was let out he was in a store and thought someone was following him so he attacked him, another guy said that he has this hate that he has never had before, this need to hurt things that wasn't there ten years ago. After this they had this study where four people wrote about a time they felt connected and 4 others wrote about a time they felt lonely, they then gave these people cookies, and the ones who where made to feel lonely couldn't control their impulses and ate more cookies. I honestly think that that lady needs to try solitary confinement, then tell me how effective it is. So in this post I kind of meshed everything that the different prisoners said about solitary confinement and what happens to them into one journal entryish, fiction piece.

White bed shoved against a white narrow wall, fluorescent lights sting my eyes as I walk. Back and forth, back and forth, across the worn cement where another has gone back and forth, back and forth.Alone. Sometimes it feels like the walls are closing in on me, tiny barriers between me and the world, keeping me locked inside, squeezing my soul so it has no place to go except where it is now. Where it is being pressed and squeezed until its shattered pieces liter the floor. I wish someone would come and beat me, it would be better than nothing, it would be like heaven just to feel again, to be in the presence of another human being. The tiny strip of a window in the corner of the room casts a ray of light on the floor, trying to trick me into believing that there is hope for a better life, but there isn't. There won't ever be, even if I get out of this place I know I will go crazy. I already am crazy, I have barely any memory. The wind on my face is but a ghost quickly fading into the past, sunlight on my back is but a phantom surging into the dark spaces of my brain. Loneliness overwhelms, but so does hate, an uncontrollable rage seethes beneath my surface waiting to unleash its self upon my wardens. All that is left in my world is nothing, everything is nothing. I lay down on the bed looking for some comfort, Squinting my eyes shut to the white bright, blackness overwhelms and soon I am sucked into a real unreality, people's faces float in front of me, their screams and hurt filled faces, a fire burns bright and loud bangs echo in my head. I wake with a start drenched in sweat and look down to see my filthy blood covered hands. I wish I could forgive myself, but how can I do that when I don't even know what to forgive?So I start screaming, like an animal in a cage, because after all that is all that I am.

Author's Note: I would like to know what you guys think about solitary confinement, and if you know anything good about it I would really like you to post it on a comment, because the video was kind of one sided.

Wood Gatherer

 Authors Note: After being at the Art Museum I didn't really know what to write about, but then I remembered this painting called the Wood Gatherer. In it there is an old man carrying a pile of sticks he looks so sad. He is surrounded by trees and flowers and ahead of him is a carefree child.

Sore back and aching legs, each step feels like its own harsh journey. The weight on my back is unbearable, and the wood is a small part of the huge weight upon me. How I would do anything to be rid of this, this weight of sorrow, guilt, past. Ahead of me the child dances through wild flowers, laughing at their tickling sensation, the happiness across her face makes me wistful. I think to myself There was  time when I was like that, but I can't remember, this life has taken everything and anything happy. The girl, my granddaughter has such joy on her face, her carefree skip makes her look like she is floating above the unworthy ground. Her joyous face turns to me and I see her looking into my eyes, I try to smile back, but can't. My sad expression troubles her, but only for a moment, then she is off again racing a pair of butterflies. Her life so full and solid now will not be for long, life is like a rock on a seashore, constantly being washed over by waves, until finally its tiny pieces float through vicious waves. Her soul makes her fly above clouds in golden sunshine, my soul in the dark and cold barely drags itself across the dirt. Nothing can be felt, because while her's sings the songs of birds mine lies in the cold coffin dead.

The Issue WithTwilight

Author's Note: I wrote this when I was supposed to be doing a social studies project but got bored, so after reading a my life is average post about someone finding a website about "How Twilight is Destroying America and Harming our Nation's Youth"  I decided to check it out, and from there I decided to write a post about it. I tried not to go to an angry place, and I don't think I did, but if I did I'm sorry.

Many teens especially girls are obsessed with two things Justin Bieber and Twilight, but honestly just thinking about Justin Bieber gives me a headache. Twilight is another matter all together, it has won many awards, and has often been compared to the Harry Potter series. This saga has engulfed many readers dazzling them and leaving them thirsty for more. For me personally Twilight has no appeal, I have read the books but didn't really like them because of the way the author portrayed many things.

The first thing that caught my attention in this series is the characters, Bella in particular. She is a girl who claims to not be attractive, but yet when she goes to her new school the boys are falling over her. When she meets Edward she falls in love with him within days, she is not even creeped out about the fact that he STALKS her and watches her while she sleeps. When they are finally together she isolates her self from family and friends to please him. What's more is Bella has no character, by the end of the series I couldn't tell you what her favorite color was. The author really doesn't give her any character traits other than her obsession with Edward, she is not a happy or sad character, to me she seems kind of dead. Edward on the other hand is just creepy, in mythology vampires are portrayed as almost demon possessed and to make a romance story out of them is weird. Even the Devil has been used as a synonym for Vampire, also the fact that a vampire consumes blood is symbolism for holiness and life.

The second aspect of Twilight that creeps me out is the relationship between Bella and Edward. In the beginning of the first book the only reason Edward will have anything to do with Bella is the fact that he can't read her mind and he wants to drink her blood.  This particular relationship resembles an abusive relationship because Bella withdraws herself from family and friends in order to keep Edward's secret. She also holds back things, so that she will not upset him. “I worried that it would provoke the strange anger that flared whenever I slipped and revealed too clearly how obsessed I was.” Bella also tries to do impossible things so as not to upset Edward “my blood was racing and I wished I could slow it, sensing that this must make everything so much more difficult” Edward does half of the things on the domestic violence abuse signs list put out by the National Domestic Violence Hotline.  A major one is the fact that he in New Moon he leaves her in the middle of a forest that she doesn't know, in addition he leaves her heart broken and not exactly in her right mind. As I stated before Edward controls whom she does and doesn't see, especially when it comes to certain friends of hers.

The third part in the book that really bugs me is the way Bella portrays the female character. She is very weak, and doesn't really seem to think things through, when she thinks her mother is in danger she rushes off to save her without even considering the fact that it could be a trick.  Also Bella doesn't even try to get a hold of Phil to see if her mother really went home. Another thing that she does is she doesn't tell any of the vampires and goes to get her mother alone, even though the vampires are far more powerful and capable than her.  The fact that Bella so easily falls in love with Edward, and then so easily falls into depression after he is gone shows that it was never really love, but obsession. She cannot get over Edward and continues to obsess over him despite the fact that he is gone, and she will be better off without him.

To be honest I agree with Steven King who said this when comparing Harry Potter and Twilight "The real difference between J.K. Rowling and Meyer is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer and Stephanie Meyer can't write worth a darn. She's not very good" To me Twilight is disturbing, and while I can understand the appeal of forbidden romance to some people it has no appeal to me.

"Normal"

Author's Note: If you where to go through a usual school day and count how many times you hear the word normal it would most likely be a very large number. Everyday we refer to people as being either eccentric, or normal. Normal is a big part of our vocabulary, especially when we are referring to people, but what is a normal person really?

Normal means being about average, but to different people average means different things. Also no one is completely average, all of us have weird or different parts to us. So wouldn't that mean there isn't a normal person anywhere? Not necessarily, it seems to me that we base normal off of how we are. To me it seems like I am perfectly normal, but to others I may seem strange or different, same probably goes with you. In truth it seems like no one can be perfectly normal.

To be perfectly normal you would have to have about average everything, and really no one does. We are all different, and if we were all perfectly normal how boring would that be? We would all be like exact replicas of one person, and life would be so dull then. Just remember weird is good, it adds color into an otherwise normal filled landscape. Would you rather have everyone be the same.

Romeo & Juliet: a modern play

Author's Note: On Friday when we were supposed to get a blog post done me and Kelsey had other things we had to do and we didn't have much time to do the post. So we decided to write a modern version of Romeo and Juliet. This isn't the all of the play, we're still working on it. So here is scenes 3&4, the beginning scenes are on Kelsey's blog. Enjoy! Sorry it's so late.


Scene 3: Romeo’s room, Mark and Romeo sitting on the bed doing homework. Ben walks in.

Ben (in an excited way with a bright smile): Romeo! Mark! Come play baseball with me!
Romeo (with a sad sigh): Gosh Ben go find someone else we have serious issues to talk about.
Ben (face falling): Oh. (cheering up) Can I talk about issues with you!?
Mark (snapping) Go away Ben.
Romeo: (sighing and depressed) It doesn’t matter Mark, he won’t understand any of it. (Ben perches on edge of bed, intent) You see Ben, I have this infatuation with this girl at school, her name is Rose.
Ben (disgusted): Ewwwwwwwww! That is sick!
Romeo (annoyed): Shush kid, it’s my story. I’m not done. Anyways, this girl won’t give me the time of day! I am so depressed, I don’t know what to do.
Mark(bored): Dude, just ask her to the school dance.
Romeo(excited): The school dance? That’s a great idea.(worried) But what if she says no, what do I do then?
Mark(even more annoyed): If she says no, go to the dance and ask her to dance there, aren’t you supposed to the nerd?
Ben (bored and confused): Well, I am sick of this talk, I’m gonna go play baseball.
Ben exits stage right

Scene 4: scenery changes to a school hallway, bells ring and Romeo is leaning against Rose's
locker. Rose comes up

Romeo(timid and hopeful): H-h-hey Rose. What’s u-u-u-up?
Rose: Um, hey Romeo. What did you say?
Romeo(really fast and unaudible): Do you want to go to the dance with me?
Rose: What?
Romeo(slower yet still unaudible): Do you want to come to the dance with me?
Rose(annoyed): Romeo, I don’t know what you’re trying to say, I’m just going to leave now.
Romeo(audible now): Rose, will you please go to the dance with me tonight?
Rose: Oh Romeo, I’m so sorry, but I am going with Edward.
Romeo(depressed again): Oh, well see you later.
Rose: Bye Romeo!

A different hallway...

Peter(confident and cool): Hey, Juliet. Want to come to the dance with me?
Juliet: I-
Peter: You know what, I’ll save you the trouble and just say yes for you. See you then and pick out a pretty dress!
Juliet: But-
Peter: Bye Juliet, I’ll pick you up at seven!
Peter walks away and leaves Juliet standing there looking slightly angry
Rose walks up to Juliet
Rose: Juliet! Did you find someone to go to the dance with you yet? I’m sure there are a lot of guys who would love to go with you.
Juliet (sarcastically and annoyed): oh yeah I found somebody to go with all right.
Juliet storms stage left

What Makes a Classic a Classic?

Author's Note: In my house we are required to read classic books. So the other day when I was reading my chosen book I was thinking about what gives a book the right to be called a classic. These are just some thoughts on the subject.

In America people obsess over 'classic' books. Adults gush over them, children are told to read them, and people right excessive notes on them, but what gives a book the right to be called a classic? After all there are many other books that are just as good and loved.

Classic books could be books that were very well written or loved by everyone, but some books contradict this statement. For example The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn was refused by the Concord Public Library Comittee and called trash. Although a lot of people loved it not everyone did so that reason wouldn't work. Perhaps classics are classics because they don't offend a certain group of people, but that wouldn't go either. The book Jane Eyre was said to be discrimanating the church, even though Charlotte Bronte the authortried to prove otherwise. If classic books are not classic because of any of the previous reasons then maybe they are classics because of some historical or deeper meaning, but once again some books don't have any of that. Alices Adventures in Wonderland or Alice in Wonderland has no historical or deeper meaning. It was merely written for the amusement of two children. Maybe that's it then maybe classics are classics because they are entertaining, but isn't just about every book entertaining to someone in someway?

So you see, there are many reasons why a classic could be a classic, but then something always contradicts them. In my opinion there souldn't be any certain books that are considered better than others, because there is no such thing as being better. The final question is what makes a classic a classic and why does it deserve to be called that?

Author's Note: Sorry it's kind of boring, and I'm not even sure if it makes sense, but if you have an oppinion on why a classic book is classic then please comment on it. Also if anyone has a suggestion on a better way to format it that would be great. ( Oh and I realize the last sentence contradicts itself with two questions, I just couldn't find a better way to word it)

The Truth of a Human

Author's Note: This is a response to an independent book I read a long time ago. I kind of forgot about it, and then I found it in my files. It's a response to the book Witch Child. In case you didn't know Witch Child is about a girl who lives in England and is suspected of being a witch, because of this she flees and the book is basically her diary as she journeys to America.

Who is a human being and who is not is confused by many. In truth everybody is human and has feelings whether they be good or bad ones the feelings are there. In my experience I have seen how certain people are so cruel to others. Neglecting the thought that they are human even if they are different. This leads me to think about my past, and the girl who was like a sister to me.

Mary was distant and alone much of the time, she was an outsider to the community like me and my father. She was adopted by a woman named Martha, who became a good friend to my father and later a wife. We lived together, Martha Mary my father and I. All next to the Riverses. Mary was not like many of the girls in the community. The ones who giggled and flirted constantly. She was intelligent and a good friend to my Rebekah.

Everyone suspected she was different. Me, Martha and my father most of all. There was an air about her that told of a sad past and a dark secret. Though she hid her nature well people stilled suspected her of being a witch, and to them that was the darkest evil. To me I did not care I knew her for the person she was and nothing else. The day that I last saw her was a day of the Devil.

We had been called to the Meeting House for a Day of Humiliation, naught but a month after me and Rebekah’s marriage. There was a strange man there. He told us there was an evil one with us, and even as he said it I could tell he meant Mary, for he looked at her with a hate as I have never seen before. I believe that Rebekah going into labor at that moment was a gift from God, for it gave Mary some time and a place to run and hide. Soon enough they accused her of being a witch of the devil and possessing the girls of the town, but I know different. I know she’s a witch though the devil does not possess her, and Mary does not use her magic for evil. Even as the girls accused her you could see the malicious lie in their eyes. If the villagers had wanted to know the truth of the sickness inside of the girls then they should have looked at the girls themselves and they would have saw the consuming madness inside of them

As soon as Mary was accused all hell broke loose. People jumped up to catch her, making their own accusations. I saw her face them frightened, then I caught her eye. The look on her face told me what to do I went to the door and in the midst of the chaos I was able to open it, let her out and close it back again. As soon as they realized she was gone the Reverend, the strange man, and a couple others headed straight to the Riverses house where Mary had moved to only months before. Me and my Father followed, pretending as if we wanted Mary dead. Once we were in the house Sarah Riverses told them they could look anywhere, but she was gone. Pretty soon after their search was done they demanded entry to the room where Rebekah was giving birth. I could hear her screams of pain, they made me want to run to her, but I held back and stood by the door shoulder to shoulder with my father. I thought I saw a glimpse of Mary slip out the window, but it was probably just my imagination. Martha told them they could not come, the strange man she said had consumption sickness and mustn’t touch the babe. They would have come in any had Rebekah not screamed for a second time. They decided to search the forest with their dogs, but little did they know the affect Mary has on dogs.

When they left and Rebekah’s birth was over and the baby was named Mary Sarah, we made plans to leave. We had heard tell of different communities where you could believe freely in whatever you like. Wasn’t that why we came here in the first place? We knew that suspicion would soon fall on us. Jonah and Martha would be first to be suspected, then Me and Rebekah and the rest of the Riverses. Jonah and Martha left the next day. The rest of us waited until Rebekah was better, and then we moved on.

I never saw Mary again after that. Although I heard tell of a strange Indian with dirty blonde hair and gray eyes. The villagers of Beluah may never realize their mistake, but us outsiders do. We saw the evil things they were up to when they claimed it was in the name of God, and all along their biggest mistake was not treating a person as a person should be treated, but instead like an animal to hunt. That is why I write this to you my children so you may see that wherever you are in your life that all people are the same in the sense that they have feelings. Even the ones different from the rest, the outsiders they can be emotionally hurt too.