Evernote Post

What did you like most about using Evernote to take notes in class?
Evernote was very good because it was nice to have for in class use. You were able to use it in class and have it at home as well. All you had to do was go online and you had everything at your finger tips. All your notes, all your class discussions and everything else was right there in one place. It is easy access at home and everything. It made it easier to keep all notes in one spot and not have them all over the place in a notebook. Plus, you didn't have to take notebooks and so on home just to go over some notes from earlier that day. It was all on your computer and is all organized to your liking on Evernote. So Evernote was really nice and had some good benefits.

What problems or limitations did you encounter while using Evernote?
Limitations I had with Evernote was that it was on the iPad and the iPad has a touch screen keyboard. That makes it a lot harder to type up notes as quickly as needed be for class. Even with the auto correct and what not on the iPads, it still was difficult to type. It becomes difficult to get everything in when you can't type fast and you tend to miss things. So since we were working from iPads, it is hard to type up the notes. Plus, it doesnt have all the keys and options Word has so it is harder to understand and use. Word is what we have grown up and worked with so when it doesn't have the same functions and what not, it is harder to work and understand. So Evernote had a negative side.

Do you have any other feedback or suggestion on making Evernote better?
When it comes to Evernote being better, it needs the functions and buttons that Word has. It is what we have grown up with and worked with. So we need it in order to have it work better. We also need a new form or method to use to type up notes. The iPad touch screen keyboards are really difficult to type on and hard to get all the notes in. Along with that, it needs to be easier to access from a non-Evernote apps. When I try to access it from my IPad, it is extremely difficult to access and edit my notes. So that would be nice to have fixed. Those are a few things that would make Evernote better.

IPad Use Post

What re the benefits of having a class set of iPads in the classroom?
The benefits of having a class set of iPads is that, they were useful at points in class. Since our teacher is really big into technology and has us signed up for a lot of online programs, it's really helpful to be able to access them whenever in class. Through one of the programs, we were able to just take notes on the iPads and still access them from home. It was also nice to have the ability to use these to our advantage for projects and other class activities. For a lot of projects, they worked to our advantages as students and allowed us to be more creative with the projects. So in all, they did work to our advantages at points and were really good for in class use.

What were the limitations or problems with having a class set of iPads?
There were negative points to the class set of iPads. For one, some of us (including me), arent so technologically advanced. Especially in comparison to our really technological teacher trying to teach us how to use different programs on the iPads. Sometimes it clicks (or at least a good portion of it) and sometimes it doesnt (small things we wished we knew in the future) for the different programs being used. Along with that, I am usually more comfortable with a pen and paper than a touch screen keyboard when it comes to taking notes. It just works better. Though if we somehow got keyboards for the iPads, it would probably be easier, but that isn't in the budget. Then along with that, as well as they worked for some kids with their projects, others dont necessarily need them. We aren't use to having this kind of technology with projects. We are use to not using much technology with projects or sometimes we are just more comfortable with less technology. So we didn't need them for the projects. So there are negative parts to the iPads.

Do you think that the school district should have more iPad carts for student use or move to a 1:1 environment where all high school students would have access to an iPad they would be able to take home and use during the school year.
I think if they were to get iPads for the school, it would be best with one on one use. Ones that we could take home and use in all classes. That way we can have all our books on the iPads and we can get the full use out of them. We could get our own keyboards if needed and we could get the programs needed of the iPads. We could have actual (or as close as we can get) Microsoft programs that can be better for taking notes, projects and so on. Also, we could just have all our work on the iPads, with us at all times. Then we also wouldn't have a need for school computers or anything. We would all be able to type up papers and print them off at home or at school if need be. If we had one on one iPads, they would be a lot better and would get a lot of use out of them. So it would be a lot better if we had one on one iPads for everyone in th school.

Dancing to Death

Rachel Montgomery

February 29, 2012

Honors Am Lit

1^st hr, Provenzano

Dancing to Death

Beyond the road, the trees and the winding dirt driveway; there is a house. A house that is so beautiful, nothing can be compared to its everlasting youth. As dark and scary as it looks, it still has an indescribable appeal to it. It is a house with a story of its very own. While it may not be pleasant, it is a story to tell and one to live on forever. This story is one that not many smile upon, except those wicked at heart. It has been told for centuries and will be told forever more. But it isn’t finished yet. Oh no, it has only begun. When the house’s story reaches an end though it will be dedicated to all those who went in the beautiful house, but never came out.

It was an immaculate house with immense size and a grand appearance.  It has towering black pillars and rugged black stone walls that greeted your eyes when first glancing at it. Windows, which were perfectly accompanied with beautiful dark gray shutters on either side, seemed to be more common than brick. Vines seem to crawl up the side of the house so precisely, that it makes the house look sinister almost. Black marble steps lead you to the grand, dark double wooden doors with large brass knockers on them in the shape of firey embers. It was an entrance to a place like no other.

Candle lit crystal chandlers hung in all the rooms, giving the place a sort of romantic ambiance as reflections of the dancers below glided about the dangling crystals. Firey embers in the fire places dance to the beat of the music. The clock ticks to each passing second and no one has a care. Clacks of the shoes hit the dark, checkered, marble floor as the dancers seemed to dance in perfect unison. Grand balconies were on either side of the dance floor with winding stair cases to each of them. Only to be accompanied by dark woodwork and book shelves on all sides of the room. One wall contained multiple grand windows between the dark woodwork and gave the place some life to it.

 Kids ran across the floor in their best attire possible as they giggled and laughed the night away. Women wore tight bodices with silk dresses that had giant full skirts, their faces covered in make-up and had their hair done in elegant and unique buns and curls.  Men were dressed in their full garb-like any noble Frenchman would-as they guided their partners across the floor with rhythmic steps, twirls in unison and an atmosphere of love and joy.

One girl in particular stood out among the rest though. She was a beauty beyond compare and they all knew it. She was a site to be seen with thick, firey red hair that looked like dancing fire embers when it was down and bouncing around in its natural curls. Today though, she seemed to have tamed it and has placed it in a tightly woven, intricate bun with only two small tight curls left to frame her face. She had emerald eyes behind thick eyelashes and naturally rosy red lips.

She was draped in a scarlet red dress that was tight around her waist and truly accented how tiny it was. Large skirts encircled her as floated across the room. They were imbedded with rubies and diamonds and made her seem to shimmer as she glided across the floor. It made her look like a goddess from the heavens dressed in precious gems.

  White lace was on the ends of her sleeves and trimming the front of her dress.  While it encircled her wrist on the sleeves, on the front the white lace outlined the only white on her dress. It was a small patch of white that went from her slightly plunging neckline to her belly button. It was pure white silk and white pearls imbedded in the lace. Red ribbon criss-crossed across it and tied into a perfectly small bow at the top to pull the dress all together.

She was stunning.

Her natural beauty was incomparable to any girl in the world.

Just like the house.

LUCY

I am so happy they are all here.

I am glad to know that the noblest of all the French in Paris have decided to grace the world with their presence today. To come to this ball and show off their new dresses and garbs and act like the kings and queens of France. To socialize with the rich and the wealthy, the only kind of people they would even dare to speak to. To go and the dance about the room with such naivety, ignorance and bliss, that brings a smirk to my face.

Their naivety and ignorance won’t get them very far though. They came tonight in hopes of socializing, dancing and making merry with all those who are fabulously wealthy, just like them. A night to remember is their goal and I don’t blame them. They know France is in trouble and it is only a matter of time before someone makes the first move. So they are going to dance the night away in hopes of erasing their troubles and being able to keep this one memory alive before their world turns to dust.

So naïve.

They don’t know how bad their future is going to be.

But it is only the price of being vain and self centered.

These are the ones that don’t know of what the rest of the world has gone through. The ones that throw away their money on rubies and gems, while the other half is starving and searching for food. They are the ones with giant homes and worrying who has the biggest and best decorated house, while others don’t have homes.

They don’t care.

And they will pay for it.

People who are like that deserve to be punished. They deserve to see what it’s like to be the underdog and how hard others have it.

 So I have something planned for them.

But it won’t happen now.

In good time it will.

But for now, I am going to enjoy the party. I am going to relax and watch the dancers waltz right on by without a care in the world. They will talk and socialize and go on about the party like it was any other high society event.

I, on the other hand, I will just be waiting for the right time to strike.

So I will watch all the people that pass me buy.

I will look at the smirks on the guy’s faces, and the shy smiles from the girls. The twinkles of promise of a brand new tomorrow shine brightly in their eyes. Girls laugh playfully and talking ever so softly like the sound of a sweet melody from a wind chime in the breeze. While the guys talk loudly and boisterously so their voices echo throughout the room in hopes of impressing some pretty girl.

Everyone is having the time of their life.

Good.

The clock is ticking and the time is almost right.

The outside is getting dark and it is reflected inside the house.

The light and happy ambiance from earlier in the night has faded, leaving a dark and sinister look in its place.      The chandlers have lost their glimmer as the dancers are no longer present in their crystals. Fire places now have firers with blazing embers in them as the room just seems to get warmer and warmer without warning. Everyone is still making merriment without a care, leaving me as the only one to notice the changes.

And it is bringing a smile to my face.

The room starts to gain a reddish glow and the outside world is no longer present through the windows. The clock seems to be ticking faster and it gets closer to midnight with each passing second. And ever tick makes my smile grow bigger on my face.

Everyone is still dancing when the clock strikes twelve though. They continue with each chime and I just feel myself slowly transform into my natural form.  The white is stripped away from my dress and the rubies and gems fall from my dress, leaving me in a tattered red gown. I feel myself become who I truly am as my hair is released from the bun. Then my skin becomes the color of the scarlet red from my dress. Horns have appeared on the top of my head as I grow a pointy, red tail.

Once I was transformed, the clock ceased to strike.

Everything was silent, though the dancers continued to dance.

Then I made my move.

Peasants from all over France crashed through the windows. They screeched and cried for revenge as they savagely attacked the nobles.

The nobles tried to get away, but the peasants seemed to come in from everywhere. Leaving the nobles trapped in the room like herded sheep. Screeches from both side became apparent and could probably be heard by all of France.

It was a sound like no other. And the grand room made the sound that much loud and deafening with every scream. It was ear shattering loud and was painful to have to hear.

Blood was spattered everywhere in the room and bodies laid all around on the checkered floor. What was left of the windows had a red tint to them and the fire burned ever so largely in the fire place. Everyone looked either like a savage beast or a terrified human being. The world seemed to be nothing but mass chaos in that one little room.

So I am just sitting there and watching.

I love it.

So I smile as big as I could go at the mayhem I have caused.

I start to cackle at the beauty of all the chaos that has happened.

In the fit of my happiness, I stop and pause to say, “Welcome to Hell”.

And then the house burst into flames.

Poe's Obsession with Death

Rachel Montgomery

March 15, 2012

Honors Am Literature

Provenzano, 1^st

Obsession with Death

            An obsession can be over anything in the world. It could be blatantly obvious to everyone or hidden from the world. Edgar Allen Poe, one of the greatest writers of all time, may have seemed like he wasn’t obsessed with death at first, but after another glance, it is apparent he is. No one would see that until taking a close look at his writings and seeing the thoughts behind his words. His obsession is shown very strongly when readers see the multiple points of similarity between the stories. These points show a darker and more twisted side to the stories after looking more closely. When you look and see the isolation, symbolism and dictation he used, you can see that he has a love for death and its twisted ways. When looking at the deeper meaning of Poe’s writing, his obsession with death become apparent to all who read his works. So through these different aspects that are apparent and common in his stories, any one of his readers could see how he is obsessed with death.

            Isolation is part of Poe’s obsession with death in his stories. For Poe ends up creating the characters from the different stories with few or no friends to turn to during the story. “.. to the severe and long-continued illness-…a tenderly beloved sister-his sole companion for long years…” (Edgar Allan Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher). Some even have replaced actual human friends with substitutes like animals. “I was especially fond of animals, and was indulged by my parents with a great variety of pets… There is something in the unselfish and self-sacrificing love of a brute…” (Edgar Allan Poe, The Black Cat). This leaves these characters alone and in need of help of someone right off the bat and wishing for someone to help them. But even for the ones that do have friends and family to turn to though, Poe has them pushed away through bad habits or mistreatment by the main characters. “I suffered myself to use intemperate language to my wife. At length, I even offered my personal violence,” (Edgar Allan Poe, The Black Cat). At some point in the story, the main characters all seem as if they have been separated from the rest of the world. Poe creates this through his obsession with death. He has death involved with a series of unfortunate events that occur for the main characters. Poe has problems around every corner for them that lead to nothing but death, so he can establish a sense of aloneness and loss for all the main characters. Through this, a sort of bubble is being set around them that seems to force the character to face all their troubles on their own. This makes the characters feel as if everything happens to them and to them alone. In the end, a sort of depression or madness is created for the characters that makes death practically inevitable for themselves. This never ending cycle of depression and loss is created through this and creates a dark mood for his stories. A sense of darkness that was only brought upon the characters by having them run into problems related to death. Only to prove that the isolation in Poe’s stories has been created through his obsession with death.

            Symbolism played a huge role throughout Edgar Allan Poe’s stories. He created symbols that provided a whole new outlook on the stories and made in inanimate objects come to life. They created a new emphasis on different parts in the stories he has created. Intangible things became living beings that were part of or caused destruction in the stories. “And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night” (Edgar Allan Poe, The Masque of Red Death). Objects became representation of characters from the stories that created a connection between the two that not even death could be differentiated between them. “… and now final death-agonies, bore him to the floor a corpse…there was a long tumultuous shouting….dank tarn at my feet closed sullenly and silently over the fragments of the ‘House of Usher’” (Edgar Allan Poe, The Fall of the House of Usher). Through these symbolic things though, Poe has them involved with his obsession with death by having them connected to death as well. To some they seem like normal characters or parts of the story, but with their presence, they spread a strong emphasis on death itself. In some cases they represent the death or the end of something. While in others, they cause the death themselves. Through this, the connection between the objects and death is undeniable because with these symbolic objects, comes death. The idea behind of each of these symbols there is a new meaning then just a person or an object in one of Poe’s stories. Each of these has a relationship with death that is apparent and adds to the idea of death in the stories. This makes symbolism is then a major contributor to Poe’s obsession with death in his stories.

            Edgar Allan Poe, as the famous writer he is, is a master at description. This is evident in his stories and help show how obsessed with death he is. Poe describes everything as if it were right in front of you. An image pops in to your head the minute you start to read the first paragraph. He uses dictation to help describe and make the stories have the gloomy feel and ambiance he creates for his gothic scenes. His obsession with death becomes very noticeable then when he uses his unique and deep descriptions for his stories. Through this, he gives gruesome details to the story that allows you to see the agony and sadness the story has. “The upper lip, at the same time, writhed itself away from the teeth, which it had previously covered completely: while the lower jaw fell with an audible jerk…” (Edgar Allan Poe, The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar). He likes to show the dark and twisted side of people and likes to create peoples worst fears on a piece of paper. “To be buried while alive is, beyond question, the most terrific of these extremes which has ever fallen to the lot of mere mortality” (Edgar Allan Poe, The Premature Burial). He uses his talents as a writer to create a since of loss and agony for all those who read it. When he describes the death of someone in the story, he makes sure that he doesn’t leave out a single detail. The picture is as gruesome and as detailed as it could possibly be. His depth in his details shows how fascinated he is with death by becoming that realistic and vivid. Even when he isn’t writing about death, he writes about someone’s troubles and writes it with a dark and depressing feel about it. A happy ending is never seen and death is more common then happiness for characters. So by writing so detailed about someone’s misery and experience with death, Poe’s obsession with death shows through very strongly through his descriptions.

            In stories by Edgar Allan Poe, there is isolation, symbolism, and description that shows how he is obsessed with death. Between his creation of misery, symbolic parts of the story that represent death and his deep descriptions about the death of characters; death is key in all his stories. He uses it to create elements in his stories and make his stories the way they are. It was the deeper part of the story that made them as horrific as they were. Making his obsession with death very apparent in his stories.

           

           

Biboliography

Poe, Edgar Allan. “The Black Cat”. The Literature Network. 13 March. 2012. http://www.online-literature.com/poe/24/

Poe, Edgar Allan. “The Premature Burial”. The Literature Network. 13 March. 2012. http://www.online-literature.com/poe/41/

Poe, Edgar Allan. “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar”. The Literature Network. 13 March. 2012. http://www.online-literature.com/poe/30/

Faust Legend

Winning is all That Matters

Winning was all that matters.

As long as he was number one, who cared about the rest? He was a winner and deserved nothing but the best of the best. He was rich and came from a well off and powerful family. He went to the best schools, had the best tutors, was on the best teams and so on because he was the best.

                Well, in his mind, he was the best.

                But on that night John B. Winston did win something.

                John was part of huge firm in New York City that only had the best lawyers. He started working there after graduating from Yale a couple of years ago. He has been there for three years and was one of the fastest progressing lawyers in the firm.

                Because he liked to win.

                And losing was not an option to him at all.

                He spent weeks upon weeks working to make sure he looked good for his bosses. He worked equally hard making sure that all the other lawyers looked bad as well. For one of the partners was getting old and decided to retire a couple months ago.  So basically all the lawyers were pining for the spot as partner, including John.

                He was determined to win it.

                And the trial he just won, was his one way ticket to the spot.

                John had been working on a case regarding a potential rapist and the rape victim’s parents were suing the alleged criminal. Everyone was sure that the rapist was guilty. They really only had the trial as a way to show that everyone has equal rights. They didn’t think that somehow the rapist would actually be proven not guilty.

                Not until the heard the verdict today.

                John was defending him and he proved the accused rapist innocent to the core. There wasn’t a single thing that could be used to be proven against his client. With a couple of hundred dollars here, some erasing here and some burning of some papers here, you have an unbeatable case. Allowing John to win the case and essentially, his spot as partner.

                So that night, he celebrated with three of his friends at the firm.

                As the walk down the street, John shrugged his shoulders to burrow his face deeper into his coat to hide it from the cold. The wind was especially hard that night. It felt like small ice crystals were being pelted at his face. It was starting to get really dark, really fast from the clouds rolling in, but no matter. He was going to party, drink and do anything else to celebrate the night away. That was his night and no one would take it away from him.

                As he walked in the bar, the scent of hard alcohol, pretzels and cigarette smoke greeted him at the door when he walked in with his chin up. He looked narcissistic and like a show off to all the other bar goers, but he didn’t care. He wanted them to look at him with disdain for thinking he was better than everyone.

                Because he knew he was better.

                He went up to the bar and sat down with his friends. They all started barking orders at the wimpy bartender, trying to work his way through college. They yelled a bunch of orders all at once and laughed when he spilt a glass of whiskey on himself.

                John felt powerful and good that night. He felt like he was on top of the world. But while John always thought he was the best at everything, not everyone saw him that way. A lot of people hated how egotistical he was. They hated his cocky grin that showed its presence every time he was praised for something he had done. They hated how he always acted perfect, when he clearly was anything but. They especially hated how he put rapists, drug dealers, criminals and even one murder back on the streets and by doing so, putting people and families in danger.

                Needless to say, John really didn’t get a whole lot of fan mail. But he didn’t care. He wanted to win and if that meant putting various types of criminals back on the street, he’d do it in a heartbeat. It doesn’t affect him if they are back on the streets. But winning a case gets him one step closer to being partner. One step closer to having more power and control over the city and having one large pay check to come knocking at his door.

                All so he could be the winner.

                He downed another shot of tequila and to feel it burn down the back of his throat. His body became over whelmed with a feeling of being extremely hot. He started to get lost in his thoughts of how great it would be to be partner and to really be on top of the world, and then a girl walked.

                She had thick brown hair that was pin straight until it curled at the very ends. She had amber eyes and rosey red lips. Her dress was extremely tight and it revealed a lot. It was a bright red and came down to her knees with a slit up the side that went ever so high. She didn’t hide anything. She knew she looked good and she clearly showed it. Her waist was impossibly tiny and perfect. Her legs were a mile long and would still be without the three inch red stilettos on her feet.

                He was awestruck by her appearance and ready to walk up to her and introduce himself, but after a quick glance around the room, she spotted him and headed straight for the seat next to him at the bar.

                There was a ton of hoots, cat calls and sounds of appreciation for her to grace them with her presence at a bar filled with men. A lot of them even went up to her and started being very flirtatious and forward with her. None of them holding back or saying promises of what the night could become for her.

                She ignored them all though.

                She sat down next to John at the bar. She calls the bartender, “Martini on the rocks. Two olives please.”

                The bartender was starring at her, until he snapped out of it and went running around to fulfill her order. Not stopping for heartbeat to make sure she got exactly what she wanted.

                Before he knew it, she turned and started talking to him like a long lost friend. They talked and laughed the night away. His friends constantly tried to get her attention or enter the conversation, but it always ended up as just the two of them talking. He talked about all his achievements and she would smile in approval. She giggled at all his jokes. She was the perfect girl.

                He was enticed by her, and she seemed the same way to him. He couldn’t stop looking at her beauty. Especially her eyes though. They seemed to hypnotize him and completely capture him in her clutches.

And he didn’t want to fight back.

                The bar started to slow down and everyone started to leave, which included John’s friends. So they decided to leave the bar as well and brave the cold.

                Once outside, John placed his coat on the girl’s shoulders, just the way girls like it. She grinned at him in approval and started to walk away from him. He just trailed after her like a love struck puppy dog. She took him to a part of town that was known for its criminals and gang members, but she walked in like she owned the place.

                Before he knew it, she started talking about how great this area of town was because it was so full of evil and dark things. How this place was one of her favorite spots in the world because of it. She started going on and on about it. About how the ambience was perfect with the thunder clouds rumbling overhead, the flickering street lights, graffiti covered abandon buildings and the deserted alley ways made the place feel so dark and sinister. She acted like it was a palace or a five star hotel, instead of a street in the bad part of town.

                She stopped talking for a moment and walked up to the store front of an abandoned old doll shop. The dolls looked old and needed to be put out of their misery. She looked in the window and seemed to be starring at five or so of them sitting on a shelf. One of the dolls was a girl, but the rest were guys surprisingly. They all looked familiar for some reason to John. They still looked really creepy to him though. Yet, she stared into the window at the broken dolls longingly. As if they were promises that are to be kept.

                He started to walk up to her when she turned around suddenly. She then she changed dramatically in tone. She was mentioning how nothing in life was a for sure thing. How even though John wanted his position as partner, he can never be sure that he would get it. There were so many others, like his friend that could get the job instead of him. How one day he could get harmed for letting those criminals back on the streets. How you never know what could happen the next day.

                As crazy as she sounded right then and there, John seemed to agree with her. He knew that there was always the slight chance that he might not get partner. That there was always a chance that a victim or family member of a victim of one of the criminals he set loose could come after him. That there really was no “for sure” way to tell whether or not everything he hoped to come true, would come true. He knew he deserved the best and everything he wanted. He believed he was the best. He believed he should always win. So now he believed he needed to make sure that he gets what he deserved.

                He started to feel himself shake in anger and disappointment. He needed to know that everything he wanted will come true and that no one can touch him. He was willing to do anything to be able to have that power and control over his life.

                Then out of the blue, she says, “I can help you with that”.

                She said it as if she read his thoughts. As if she knew what he was thinking about. It must be coincidence that it happened right then and there. John knew she probably finished talking when he was lost in his thoughts and he probably just caught her last sentence that just so happened to fit in with what he was thinking about.

                She then walked over to him and started whispering in his ear about how he could make all his dreams and wishes come true. How she could make sure that he would never ever get hurt by anyone. She could make everything all okay at a small price in return. Something that only he had and she wanted.

                “Just one thing,” she whispered oh so softly in his ear, “that’s all I ask in return for safety and everything you have dreamed of.”

                “What is it that you want,” he asks in return.

                “Your soul,” she says.

                She said it like it was no big deal. Like your soul was something you could pick up from the drug store. Like it was candy on the shelves in grocery stores!

                Yet, he had just said that he would do anything to get everything she just offered. He needed to know that he would get that job and would stay safe no matter the cost. Plus, he doubted that she was talking about his actual soul. She probably just wanted him to do stuff for her, yet he had a feeling deep down that she wasn’t lying. And something kept telling him that.

                He looked over at her and she looked serious. She looked like she really wanted his soul in exchange for all that. So despite any itty, bitty feelings that said he shouldn’t, he went with it and pushed down those feelings. He agreed to the deal and she smiled wickedly at him. He knew he just made a deal that would change his life.

                Two days after the meeting with the girl, someone found the rape victim from his previous case dead in her bathtub. The victim had cut her wrists and committed suicide because she couldn’t live when she knew that her rapist was out there somewhere. Though no one knew for sure, that was what everyone was thinking and what all the news papers said.

                That night he went back to the street  that he and the girl spent the time talking on and made a deal on. She wasn’t there though. He wasn’t expecting her to be, but felt like he should go there for some reason. He stared down that dark, cold, desolate and dreary street for a bit before looking over at the doll shop she seemed so fond of.

                He walked up to the store front, only to see that the girl doll had cuts on her wrist and was soaking wet and drenched in what looked like blood.

It was a site to see for him.

John found it very weird to see a doll like that. Even though the doll was looked so disturbing, the doll seemed bright and free in a way he just couldn’t understand. The whole thing seemed to be out of this world.

                He took his eye off the girl doll and took in the rest of the dolls. They all seemed familiar, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. So he left the girl doll drenched in blood with the other four guy dolls.

                He received his position as partner at the firm the next day. Many people seemed surprised he was picked for the position though. Later he found out a lot of them thought that the position was going to go to his friend Cory Wheels. Apparently the partners thought he had more potential than John, but John didn’t think twice about it. They ended up picking him instead. He wanted that position and he got it. He didn’t care what the cost was. As long as he was the winner.

                It wasn’t until a week later though he found out the judge and the one of the witnesses from the prosecution side were found dead with a bullet in the back.  They were lying in the streets only a couple of blocks away from each other. It had everyone in a stir. In the news papers, it was announced a murder. Police were on the search for the culprit, but there was no trace of what happened or who killed them.

                It was this kind of news that had the city a buzz. A lot of people went home before the sun had even fully set. Doors were locked at night and people always seemed to be more on edge when out and about.

                John became a little concern about it since he knew that they were both tied to the case somehow. Even with the promise the girl made all those nights ago, he still can’t help but feel he should be looking over his shoulder too.

                He ended up going back to the street with the doll house. It still created an ambiance that seemed to reek of death and despair when he looks down the street. It made him feel as if something was crawling up and down his spine. Like someone was watching his every move and just waiting for the right moment to attack him from behind.

The moment he thought of that, he spins around at an alarming pace that actually gives him whip-lash. Only to leave him feeling foolish when he saw no one there. He turned back around and something inside of him hoped to see the girl there, but she wasn’t there. She was still gone.

Feeling disappointed, he walked to the doll shop he remembers her looking at so vividly. He looked and saw that two of the guy dolls were injured like the girl doll. They both had small bullet holes in the front of them and blood seemed like it was surrounding the holes.

Unlike the girl doll though, those dolls seemed to be blackened and full of hate instead of light and freedom. The feeling made John flinch from the feeling of horror and death. It was like looking at a black hole of nothingness and loss. As if all happiness left the world.

So John started running from the shop.

While he was running, he turned around and was so overcome with the feeling of sorrow and hate, he had nothing to do, but keep running. To run until he reached home, locked the door and never look back.

Until a week later when he hears that Cory Wheels had died from a blow to the head.  They believe it was a blunt object like a shovel. They said that his true cause of death was a slow and painful bleeding. A story made for the front page news considering he was an aspiring lawyer and was from one of the richest families in all of New York. This shocked everyone considering he was one of the nicest people you ever met. No one would have guessed this would have happened to him.

Everyone was more on edge than before and everyone seemed ready to kill the next person that touched them. The prices of guns went up and more people seemed to be carrying them with them everywhere they go. If they didn’t have a gun, they had knives and other sharp object on hand at all times, ready to protect them from any possible impending doom.

John on the other hand wasn’t sad because of the death of his friend. He didn’t even seem to care that so many people he knew were dying left and right. He was more concerned with a feeling of anger, frustration, hatred and despise that seemed to always be seeping into his thoughts. A feeling that gave him nothing, but pure anguish. A feeling that felt as though his soul was being ripped from the inside out.

A week after Cory’s death, he couldn’t stand it anymore. The feelings were too strong and he couldn’t enjoy anything anymore. Not even his job as partner at the firm gave him joy. So he did the imaginable and went back to see the doll store that gave him this feeling to begin with. He figured the source would be a good place to start and see if he could be cured. Combined with the fact that he was unexplainably drawn to the store, he was on his way to the street before he knew it.

Once on the street, he looks down it to see that only one street light is working. It flickers every so often. With dark clouds over head covering the night sky, that was his only source of light. It made the street look worse than any other time he has seen it. Almost to the point where John could almost no longer look at it.

He convinces himself thought that he everything is still alright so he walks up to the old doll shop. Only to find that the display window no longer had the dolls in it. There was no trace that they were ever there. The blood was gone and anything that could have remotely been tied back to them was long gone.

He starred at window for thirty minutes before the door to the doll shop actually swung open on its own.

John felt something that could only be described as death crawling up his spine and seemed to slither all over his body. Causing him to shiver all over and want to go home and lay in bed.

Something was preventing that though.

Something pulled him closer to the door. As if he had no more control of his body and nothing could stop his legs from taking him in the store. Another human being seemed to be controlling his body and leading him towards the dark inside of the worn down doll store.

Once inside, John doubled over in pain. He was over whelmed with a feeling that he was being killed from the inside out. As if acid was being poured down his throat and was causing the most excruciating pain in the world. A feeling that hurt him so bad, he couldn’t tell if he was blacking out or if it was just dark in the store.

Then two overhead lights turned on suddenly and shined over the dolls from the store. Only there were four this time. Two that seemed full of light and freedom and then two that seemed full of darkness and death. And only after a closer look, he realizes the dolls look like all the people killed in the past five days. All with the same wounds and everything. It was the creepiest thing he ever saw.

Only after his realization did one more light turn on in the middle of the other two. It shown down on the fifth doll.

It was him.

He heard a cackle and the girl stepped out from the shadows and said, “A little scared by this huh? I know. But what can I say, I like creepy things.

“And people like you, the judge and the witness who are all bad souls deserve death. To live with me in hell forever. So I might as well have a fun time getting you there,” she says with a smirk.

Realization came to Johns face as he tried to get the words to come out, but it all just came in stutters and mumbles.

She cackled again. “Oh John, when you sold your soul to me, I bet you didn’t know you were making a deal with the devil.”

She transformed into the demon she was right before his eyes before everything went dark.

And to this day, that doll shop still stands in New York City. Creepy dolls and all.

My Reaction to the Verdict of the Mock Trail for Huck Finn

The mock trial that was created for The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn in accusation that Mark Twain was a racist was really interesting. It was a new experience to see what it was like to be in “court” even only as a simulation. By being on the prosecution side and fighting against the great American novelist, I got to view the book from a whole new prospective. For as a reader, I never thought or even viewed Mark Twain as a racist at all in the book. Then later after going over key points and looking beyond the printed word, I actually saw how harmful Twain’s words could have been to others. How he could have had racial views and truly be racist. By the end of the trial, I truly believed that to an extent, Mark Twain was a racist.

While working on the trial, I was able to bond more with others in the class and work with a group of lawyers for the” trial” that were talented and help me see the book in a new view. They saw the book in a new way that I didn’t see it and showed me details I wouldn’t have been able to recall or see on my own. The case created was really good and it couldn’t have been better or more persuasive. It was fun making up a case and presenting it. It was interesting to even question others and fighting against another team in our English class. I don’t believe the jury was paying attention to the trial as much as the lawyers and witnesses though. I think that the jurors based their final decision not on the case, but on the book and previous opinions and views on the book. I think it wasn’t as fun or challenging for them, so they didn’t participate or pay attention as much.

So as my opinion changed from Mark Twain not being racist to being racist, I believed the verdict should have been in the prosecution’s favor. Not because I was on it and it was the side I was arguing for, but because I truly believed we had the strongest case. Our closing argument was powerful, moving, and completely denied everything the defense had on us. We came up with great arguments and made a clear point of everything that said Mark Twain was a racist. Granted, the Mark Twain questioning really wasn’t in our favor, but I don’t believe it was a fair to even have him there to begin with. No reader truly knows what the author is thinking when they write a piece and don’t know their personal views as a person. Even if Mark Twain stated in some piece his views and why he wrote the book, he easily could have lied and said that just so no one would judge him. He could have secretly been racist without anyone knowing really. So I didn’t think his testimony was fair and not our best questioning, but I still believed we had the strongest case.

In the end, I believe the prosecution should have won or at least should have come in a very close second. It was a great case prepared and I wish others could have seen it as well. I wish the jury would have opened up their eyes more and seen it from the prosecution perspective. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and it was not in our favor. But even with the ending result not going as I wanted, it was a great trial. I finally got to try being a lawyer as I have always wanted. It was challenging, new, and hard, but I really had a fun time doing it. I really hope we get to do another trial again.

Huck Finn Blog Post 3

When Huck and Jim are seperated in a raft incident, Huck ends up staying with the Grangerfords. A different and unique family that is feuding with Shepherdsons. Huck stay with them is quite interesting compared to anything else he has done. When it comes to the Grangerfords, Twain isn't very subtle at all the different elements he uses when describing Huck's stay with them. The different types of humor, allusion and saddness were clearly shown in this part of Huck's adventure.
Saddness was used by Twain in an interesting way during this part of the story. When we start to get to know the family of the Grangerfords, one of the first people mentioned in the family was Emmeline. Emmeline was fourteen when she died of a disease and long before Huck even met the family. Her love for the arts and death is hard to go unnoticed though. Her paintings of melancholy scenes, somber poems and collection of obituaries creates a more depressing and saddening scene for the readers. Then later in the story, Buck dies during a battle between the Grangerfords and Shepherdsons, Huck saddness because of the loss of his friend is present. Showing a hard life that Huck has and how he is saddened by the loss of his new friend. "I cried a little when I covered up Buck's face, for he was a mighty good friend to me" (Twain, 117). Huck's encounter with the Grangerfords has given him a different experience on his adventure. Giving Huck a expierence with saddness and the feeling of loss and he runs away with Jim.
When it comes to the feud between the Grangerfords and the Shepherdsons, it gives the allusion of the feud in the famous British play, Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare. The constant battle and anger towards one another is constantly brought up by the Grangerfords. Their feud that happened years ago and no one really knows why it even started. "Oh, yes, pa knows, I reckon, and some of the other old people; but they don't know now what the row was about in the first place" (Twain, 110). The love between a Grangerford's daughter and Shepherdson's son is powerful enough for them to run away together. It feels very similar to the tradgic story of Romeo and Juliet and their constantly feuding family. This gives the sense of allusion when Huck goes to visit the Grangerfords and lives with them.
Then their was humor. Humor is used when it comes Huck talking about the Grangerford's way of living. How different they are when it comes to living their lives and the different decorations thoughout the house were compared to what he was accustomed to. When he sees the melancholy scenes that Emmeline painted, he didn't see the beauty or reasoning behind the art work. " These was nice pieces, I reckon, but I didn't somehow seem to take to them, beecause if ever I was down a little they always give the fantods" (Twain, 104). Twain was making fun of the unique and depressing way of thinking and the wierd love of death Emmeline has. Later they go to discusss the feud that the families are undergoing. Twain was making fun of how the family was in a feud with the Shepherdsons and they had no idea why. Humore was used throught the scene to show how different and wierd the Grangerfords way of living was. How some of the things they did were really different and kinda crazy. To show how some of the things people do just seem stupid to others. Humor played a major role in this part of Huck's adventure.
Twain used humor, saddness and allusion to get some points across during the story and to give Huck's adventure a little twist when he goes to visit the Grangerfords. Hucks adventure to their home has created a diifferent feeling to the story by the different elements Twain used. Making them crucial to this part of the story.

Blog Post 2- Father and Son: Huck and Jim

Huck and Jim have created a unique relationship over the short time together they have spent together on the run. A relationship, that could be discribed best as a father-son relationship between the two. Jim seems more as the son in this relationship though. He is very protective of Huck and wants to take care of him all the time. "I reck'n he's been dead two er three days. Come in, Huck, but doan' look at his face-it's too" (Twain, 56). Jim also has a lot to learn though. Huck has much to teach him and has helped him out in many ways. And even though Jim may be older, there are things that his education that he didn't cover that Huck can teach him. Jim does care for Huck and he can learn so much more from him, making him like a son to Huck.
Huck also started playing the role in this relationship as well. He has become similar to a father to Jim. Huck feeds Jim when he finds him in the woods, helps him with shelter and everything else they need on their escape. Huck was also truly worried when he went to the house and Judith Loftus told them about her husband's expedition to the island to find Huck and Jim. "I got so uneasy, I couldn't sit still. I had to do something with my hands; so I took up a needle off the table and went to threading it" (Twain, 64). Huck is even obligated by the law to turn Jim into the athorities. He even could sell Jim off on the slave market, but doesn't because of their relationship and his care for him. Huck starts to teach Jim alot and helps him out termendously along the way. Huck seems alot like father to Jim because of it.
Huck and Jim share their stories all the time and teach each other new things. Huck and Jim have grown to care for one another to an extent. They are closer than ever and seem like a father and a son. Even if their roles seem backwards.

Impression of Huck Finn

              In the first ten chapters of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain has perceived Huck as an independent kind of person. Huck isn’t one to follow the rules and ways of those around him. He doesn’t always fit in with the rest of the white community of pre- Civil War, Mississippi. He has his own ways of living his life that don’t always match up to those around him, even his best friend, Tom Sawyer. Huck even explains within the first chapter that he left Miss. Watson because he didn’t like her ways of living. “… but it was rough living in the house all the time, considering how dismal regular and decent the widow was in all her ways; and so when I couldn’t stand it no longer I lit out” (Twain, 11). Huck never seemed to need anyone to help him out. Even when he decided to run away from his father, he had it all planned out to live his life on his own: to live in solitude where no one could find him and have nothing, but the woods and him to keep company “I thought it all over, and I reckoned that I would walk off with the gun and some lines, and take the woods when I ran away. I guess I wouldn’t stay in one place, but tramp across the country, mostly nighttimes, and hunt and fish to keep alive…” (Twain, 34). Huck is one to take care of himself and live his own way. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him what to do or how to live his life. Huck is an independent human being.

            Along with being independent, Huck is also lacks self-confidence. When people call him names or beat him, he just takes it. He may get a little upset about it, but he never really does anything about it. When Tom Sawyer created his gang, a kid blatantly pointed out how Huck has no family. Huck didn’t try to defend himself for not having the family everyone else had. He just took the blow. “They talked it over, and they was going to rule me out… I was most ready to cry,” (Twain, 17). Later, after he ran away, he clearly showed that he didn’t think much of himself. “Jim said bees wouldn’t sting idiots; but I didn’t believe that, because I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn’t sting me,” (Twain, 52). Huck has little confidence for himself. He doesn’t think he is smart and doesn’t really defend himself when being kicked around. He may have a hard exterior, but he doesn’t think much of himself in the end.

            In the first ten chapters of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Mark Twain has perceived Huck as an interesting character and readers can already see what kind of person he will be in the story. While he may be perceived in different ways, readers can really see how Huck is independent, but lacks self-confidence.