Zhang+D.

===He’s gone…he’s gone! Emitt was a classmate of mine and now… Up here in Chicago, it’s all over all the newspapers. Pictures of his mutilated body litter the streets. I knew him, Bill, I knew him! What’s it like down south? I still remember boarding that train at the age of four and just fleeing from those endless cotton fields. This was all because he…whistled? Emitt would do that…that ludicrous boy!===

===I’m so angry, yet so sad. I went to his funeral yesterday. The casket was left open and it was horrible, just horrible, utterly repulsive what they did to him. The pictures really do his state no justice. It adds a whole new element just seeing that in real life, in three dimensions. There were still some traces of dirt from the river and streaks of blood that even hours of scrubbing couldn’t remove. Tears stain this paper as I write this, as you’ve probably already noticed. Grief clouds the faces of everyone who knew him; grief shrouds my face as well. Emitt was an impossible person to hate, and everyone looked up to him, his leadership skills, and his confidence.===

===I don’t know what to do, Bill. Up here, even some of the White people are absolutely horrified by the occurrences. All I can do is cry…and mourn… I’ll write to you soon, once I can write two sentences about Emitt without shedding tears.===

This is a very good letter. The writer manages to write with a lot of feeling while still getting her points across and answering all of the prompt's questions. -Andy Wolfers
Diana- I like your word choice! I can imagine someone saying that with a southern accent. ;-) I like how you get across the extent of your emotions. -Sanjana
 * You really got the point across of the emotions you felt after seeing the body and hearing of his death. The imagery was well written. Awesome Job! ~Meghann

I didn’t do my homework. I just couldn’t. Well, you see, I went to the beach yesterday. I was sitting there, splashing sand onto crabs, when I heard a dolphin screeching in pain. What’s this? Dolphins are only in the Pacific? Well, did I forget to mention that I flew across the nation? …Yes, on Friday in the middle of winter. So I was there, on a beach in California, splashing sand on…erm, clams, when I hear a bottle-nosed dolphin crying out in agony. Naturally I couldn’t just leave the poor thing be, so I went back home…by jet…and got a pair of scissors. Then I came back and cut away the bottle holder thing that it got its mouth caught in. Yes, it was still there when I came back. By that time, it was midnight, and I wanted to go back home. Of course, I didn’t fly home after spending so much time on planes that day, so I climbed into a barrel and floated all the way to the Panama Canal, against the current, where I hitched a ride onto a Disney cruise ship by dressing up as Minnie Mouse and went through. I rode the ship all the way to Disneyworld, but then couldn’t go any further. So, I got off the ship after taking the emergency life preserver and swam the rest of the way to the Chesapeake Bay, when I floated up the Susquehanna, against the current, again, of course, and by the time I reached home, it was already 5:00 Monday morning. Now, somewhere along the line, my homework found itself sealed in a glass bottle, and is probably currently floating along the coast of China.

Everyone is a mix of good and evil. There is always a spark of good in the worst of people, for example. Hitler only wanted to restore Germany to its former glory. The easiest path, for most, tends to be evil, however. It is easy, to just toss aside all moral standards, and much more difficult to uphold them. A conscience is seen as an annoyance to some, and the guilt that consumes all of us at one point in time is never seen in a positive light. Why is this the case though? Why is it that a conscience is seen more often as a nuisance than a blessing? Perhaps it is because it tends to be more profitable and it is easier to just turn a blind eye to the bad. Some make a profit out of things that many would consider morally wrong, as is the case with organized crime, theft, dictatorships, etc. It is easier that way though, to gain without working hard. On the other hand, it is also difficult at times to oppose one's conscience. Humans as a whole all have a spark of goodness in them, I believe, but that does not stop the easiest path from being evil. The path most commonly chosen usually seems to be the easiest one-using lies and manipulation to get what one wants. That tiny spark of light though, the conscience within each and every one of us, is a chance for a better world.

What does Mrs. Danvers want to show the narrator in the west wing?

Mrs. Danvers thinks of the narrator as inferior to Rebecca, and seems to draw some sort of twisted pleasure from rubbing the evidence in the narrator's face. The narrator currently resides in the eastern wing of Manderley, far away from the ocean and Rebecca's room. I believe that when she opened the random door in the West Wing, she found Rebecca's room but did not look around enough and absorb enough details to realize that it was, indeed, Rebecca's room. Mrs. Danvers is eager to show the second Mrs. De Winter how superior Rebecca's area of residency was to her own current accomadations.

Odd, what is that child doing outside of the Lady Rebecca's room? She has no place in this wing, Master Maximilion specifically ordered that she was to be kept away, to the extent that she was given a room, a //guest room// within her own house. She quite possibly cannot see very much, after all, the Lady's remarkable ceiling is not the first thing one looks at and the furniture is all hidden. More preventive measure to keep Master Maximillion away from thoughts of his deceased wife.

I must show her Lady Rebecca's room, so she can come to realize her inferiority to her. So she can learn that she is here only as a replacement for the Lady, and in comparison to her, a stuffed animal to a child. All she can do is cause our household confusion. Lady Rebecca...I refuse to allow this replacement to change our memories of you and stop our mourning. Master Maximillion //will// recall his pain and grief before he met this child, young enough to be his daughter. She will not stay, I will use her lack of self-confidence to make her crumble under her inferiority, and if she does, she will not be happy here as you were. I invite her to see the rooms in a curt tone, though perhaps more eager than I have been. She does not return the enthusiasm, but she will come to see how little she is compared to you, Mistress. **