Ness,+J

Ness

Dear Jamaal, How could they? The whites have done it again. I am assuming you have seen and heard stories of the gruesome murder of Emitt Till. Stories like this one have left me speechless. I do not understand how a person could live with them self after brutally beating and killing a fourteen-year-old boy. I have too many emotions to count. Anger, confusion, fear, sadness, depression, and fury all swirl around in my mind. They say they could only identify him by his father’s ring. I pray he was unconscious early on for I know I could never take a beating like the pictures portray. I also know I could never ever do anything of that sort to anyone, white or black, whether I hated them or not. This incident will only increase the hate between the whites and us. There have been plenty of confrontations between whites and blacks and murders of blacks in the past, but this is the one of the worst yet. Emitt Till’s death is another step backwards for us blacks. It gives the whites more confidence that they are supreme and instills more fear in us. From now on, I am promising myself that I will never even look at another white person, just to make sure they do not think I am being disrespectful. This time will be very hard for us as a race, and hopefully we will get through it without losing too many of our people.

Sincerely, Jordan

Good Job Jordan! I like the how you tied your emotions into the letter! -Marcy

I like how you looked not only at the murder, but also the extreme fear of the blacks. -Evan I love how powerful and controlling you speak and i really enjoy that about you...keepp it up buddyy. -NIKITASS

Well first, I sat down at my table to start my paper at around 9:00, I heard something strange in my kitchen. I left my folder on the table and followed the sound. I searched every drawer and cupboard but could not find the source. I spent at least a half hour looking for the cause of the noise. I finally sat down, exhausted from my search. There was only one place left; the microwave. I strolled over to it and heard the strange buzzing. I slowly popped it open and the buzzing became louder. I poked my head in and was suddenly sucked into it as if I had entered a vacuum. I flew up a metal passage and was thrown into a dark room. The trapdoor I had entered through closed and I lost sight of my house. I felt the object I was in shake, and I was immediately thrown against the side of my containment room. As I flew through the air, lights flickered on, and I saw what my cell looked like. It seemed like a thing out of a futuristic movie. The beds were molded to the walls. The whole room was white and made out of a strange soft material. A figure appeared at the bars of my cell. He did not say anything to me, but put his hand on a scanner, which opened the door. He grabbed me and dragged me through the jailing wing. I glanced in the other cells as we passed them by, and saw horrible ugly creatures. I presumed they were from other planets. As I was being dragged, I noticed an upcoming door. I knew I had to make my move. I used my black belt training to chop the alien’s pressure point. He collapsed, and I took all of his things and utility belt. I ran back to my cell and found the trapdoor. I took the pencil out of my pocket that I was going to use for my homework and unscrewed the door. I felt a familiar feeling as I flew out the door. I felt a rush of cold air as I plummeted towards Earth. I passed through some clouds and knew I had to do something before I became a pancake. I searched the utility belt and began pressing all the buttons I could when suddenly a parachute puffed out of the belt. I was still going very fast when I hit the ground. I thought I was dead but I got up and wiped the snow out of my eyes. I was in the Arctic. I was in danger of freezing, but luckily I had kept the alien’s suit, which was heat generated. I wandered for about four hours until I encountered a polar bear. I cracked a couple of jokes and he became my companion. I rode him through the heavy snow until I came to the ocean. Then, I dove in until I found a whale. I became friends with him, too, and jumped in his mouth. He swam all the way to the Atlantic where he spit me out and I flew towards my house. I landed in the front yard and walked into my house. Exhausted, I sat down at the table to resume my homework. Except it was not there. I looked around in panic. I heard another noise, except this time it was not buzzing, it was a chomping. I looked down and saw my dog eating my homework. ....

Not everyone in the world is evil, but not all are good either. Whether one is “good” or “evil” depends on many things including how they were raised. If one is raised in a hostile environment with hostile parents or parents who are not around, they are not going to be the kindest person on Earth. They see how their parents act and how others around them act and think it is ok to act out as well. Without rules of the house and certain requirements expected of the person, the person will not act as they should. On the other hand, if one is raised well and taught right from wrong they will be much better off and will be less likely to be “evil”. Another factor which determines whether one is evil or good is how they react around others. Simply put, a racist person is not good, as well as one who is rude, arrogant, etc. In __To Kill A Mockingbird__, many racists live in the community of Jem and Scout, and it is clear that they are not good people. Others who put people down, think highly of themselves, etc. are evil in another sense. They are evil on a lower, more personal level. They do not take lives or steal from banks, but still hurt people in their own way. People can be good or evil, but it is their choice.

The door creaked open. A face peeked in. She could not tell what was in the room, for it was too dark, so she moved on. But little did she know, that room would change the girl's life.

Mrs. De Winter was trying to escape from the arrival of her husband's sister, Beatrice. Mrs. De Winter was a very shy girl, and she was scared to meet her husband Maxim's outspoken sister. She was running through the halls of the west wing when she ran into the head house maid, Mrs. Danvers. "Where are you hurrying off to madam? Your husband's sister and her husband have recently arrived, and would like to have lunch with you." "Have they? I am sorry, Mrs. Danvers, I was trying to get back to the kitchen and must have taken a wrong turn. I am afraid I am terribly lost." "It is alright Mrs. De Winter. We shall go find them now. But by any chance, did you look in any of the rooms in this wing?" Mrs. De Winter panicked, afraid she had done something wrong.

"Yes I did Mrs. Danvers, and I am so sorry if it was wrong. I was only trying to find my way back." Mrs. Danvers' ordinary blank look turned to a frown. "Alright. Do not worry, Mrs. De Winter, it was an honest mistake. For now, let us go back and find Beatrice and her husband." Mrs. De Winter was shaking in nervousness. "Ok, thank you Mrs. Danvers." Then they were off, heading out of the west wing. But Mrs. De Winter looked back, still wondering what was behind that door she had accidentally opened.

The next morning, Mrs. De Winter woke and looked at her bedside clock. It was already ten thirty. She rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. She washed up, brushed her teeth and went down to breakfast. On her way to the kitchen, she passed the door that led into the wing that she had "gotten lost" in. She was still curious what was in that room, and decided she was going to find out. With her slippers preventing her from making any noise, she crept down to the room she had intruded in the afternoon before. Her palms began to sweat with worry. What if she was caught? What would happen to her? Surely Mrs. Danvers would not be so kind the next time. She decided to go through with it. She had started a new life and she needed to take some chances. The door creaked open and she looked in. It was very dark and she could not see anything, so she closed the door and flicked on the light switch. She was amazed by what she saw. It was a shrine to Rebecca. A large portrait of her hung on the wall as soon as Mrs. De Winter walked into the room. There was an altar with Rebecca's old clothes, locks of her hair, and her diary. Mrs. De Winter was horrified. She wanted to leave and never come back. But she saw a movement at the door. The lights switched off. There was a struggle, and then all was silent. At the funeral, no one knew how Mrs. De Winter died, and no one ever would.