Thursday, February 14, 2013

N. 92nd Street

Please read this article. 


December 28, 2005 -- Mike 


"Twenty two, twenty three, twenty four," I said, counting the change I needed to give back to the customer. 

"Thank you!" A very happy happy customer, with very long brown hair said, as she sat down to eat her egg roll. 

It was a Wednesday night, the Wong's Kitchen was slowly heading downhill. We made a whole whopping $200.00 today, which means that if I want to get enough money for food, I have to stay later. I was supposed to pick Kristie up, however she was at the museum with Sherry's parents. 

Around 5:00 pm, a car pulled up. 

I had my back turned to the door. I was making some chicken, and had to turn the burner on. When I turned around, everything changed. Men dressed in black, with masks, holding guns.

I blinked.

"GIVE US THE MONEY, OR WE'LL SHOOT" they screamed. 

I had no choice, I went to open the register, but I was too late. I heard a gun shot, and felt immense pain in my chest. I fell to the floor.

I heard the door close, they got away. 

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me," she sang to me. I had no idea who she was, none at all, but she was there, holding me. Until the end. 


December 28, 2005 -- Sarah 


"Twenty two, twenty three, twenty four," he said, handing me back my change. 

"Thank you!" I smiley said, looking back at him, while taking a seat. I had just gotten out of work, and needed something to eat, so I decided to try Wong's Kitchen. So far everything was great, the food, the service, I decided that I would start coming here more often. I continued on with the meal, going up and down between my laptop and my meal. 

The door opened.

I assumed that someone was coming in to buy food, but this was no time for making assumptions. 

I was busy typing as I heard it. A gunshot.

I looked up, but not it time, they had already ran through the door, and the nice man who had given me my food, had already fallen to the floor. 

I sprinted over, and held him in my arms. I didn't know the man up until today,  but now I will remember him forever. 

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me," I sang to him, until he took his last breath. 


December 28, 2005 -- Darleen


I had just settled down after a long day, to watch the 5 o'clock news. This was my favorite news show, because you got all the inside scoop on the dirt that happened in Milwaukee today. 

"Hello, viewers, this just in, a man shot and killed at a Chinese food resturaunt today," I tuned into the TV, "for more information, stay tuned." 

"Larry! Get in here!" I called out to my husband. Just as he walked through the door, the screen switched to a live view, and there, in sight, was my son. He was laying on the floor; dead. 

Tears rolled down my face, crying so hard I was shaking. "Why?" I sobbed out, "Why my son?"


December 28, 2005 -- Sherry


Driving down 92nd street was a part of my everyday schedule. I started by picking up my dry cleaning, then I would get some grocery's and then stop in at Mike's work. I loved my husband, more than anything. We fought, all the time, but I still loved him. 

I was running a little late, because I had to drop Kristie off at my parent's house, because they were taking her to the museum, which then pushed my whole day back about 20 minutes. And of course, with my luck, an accident must have been up further on the road, because there were tons of police cars, and ambulances driving down the road. 

After I had ran my errands, I was on my way to stop in by Mike. When I got to the exit, I saw that it was blocked off, and all the ambulances and police were in Wong's Kitchen. 

"What's going on in there?" I asked a police, from inside my car. 

"Some cashier was shot. Dead." he said, "Sorry ma'am, but there'll be no dining in there tonight."

"Do you happen to know the man's name?" I said, praying that it wouldn't be him.

"Mike. Mike Tabbert. Why? You know him?" 

Tears ran down my face, in an instant. I ran out of that car so fast, I almost forgot to put it in park. "He's my husband, I hollered."

Walking in, I saw the unimaginable. Mike, my husband, the love of my life, laying there lifeless..and he wasn't coming back. 


December 28, 2005 -- Kristie



I loved the museum. I loved the fact that whenever I was there, I would be with my grandparents, even my cousins sometimes. But it was different that time. Grandma's phone kept ringing. It was mommy. 

"Hello?" Grandma said.

"Hi, hurry, leave the museum and come to the Chinese restaurant," I heard her crying trough the phone. 

We left in the blink of an eye. Traffic was bad. I kept on asking what was going on, and the only answer I got was that we needed to go see my daddy. 

It took an hour to get to the restaurant. When we showed up there were blinking lights and roaring sirens. 

I ran inside, only to see my other grandparents, my uncle, and my mommy crying. My daddy was there, too. 

But he wasn't crying. 

He wasn't moving, or talking, or breathing. He wasn't alive. 

I dove down onto the ground, and held my daddy's hand, asking him to wake up.

He never did.


December 28, 2005 -- Marissa 


We had just gotten back from my brother's indoor soccer game. Me and him were now watching TV.

Then my mom walked in. She was crying, and holding a box of tissues. 

"Kids, your uncle Mike has been shot, and killed." she said. And from that moment on, nothing was ever the same. 







Friday, February 8, 2013

Demons


Villains crowd our head with thoughts. You’re not good enough.  The demons surround us, praying that we’ll fail.  The devil watches our every move, hoping at some time we’ll mess up, and be on his side: the dark one. Evil is surrounding us, trying to trap us, trying to take us. They try to disguise themselves, hoping we think those thoughts and actions are our own, ours by choice. They try to get inside our brains, as deep as possible, so that when they leave, we still have those thoughts; but this time they come from you, telling yourself, I’m not good enough. 

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Changing Gears


The impulse kicks in. For a second, my mind flashes to a memory. I see my dad, eye level, and in a moment, my father’s hand hits me, fair and square in the eye. Reality comes back. I am waiting. The clock ticks from 12:02 to 12:03. Caitlin, who is probably just getting out of class, is still not in the car. And I don’t like that. Something about being late..it got to my father, and now it gets to me.

I sit in the car, and wait for another 3 minutes, still no sign of Caitlin. Just as I am ready to change gears, and drive away, the handle clicks, and the door opens.

Scrambling in the door, Caitlin starts to ramble on, “Hey, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Johnson wanted to talk to me after class, and I told her I had to go, I really did, but she said –“

“Enough. I’ve heard it all before.”

“Rogerson, I know you’re mad, but I tried. I really did! I got out of this place as fast as I could,” Caitlin pleaded, as she knew what was coming.

“Wasn’t fast enough,” I murmured under my breath.

The drive to lunch was silent, in the most awkward of way. I was upset, and she knew it. I was right, and she knew it, too.

Twenty minutes past, when she finally decided to open her mouth.

“I’m still sorry,” she said, looking at me with those big eyes, pleading for some romance scene. For some reason, this hope, this happiness, this joke in her eye, it got me frustrated. I turned back towards the wheel, now parked in a parking lot. From the corner of my eye, I still could see her. Just as she was about to speak, something came in me. My second nature. I leaned in real close, and punched her. Harder than ever before.

As she sat there crying, I sat there driving. Maybe I should feel bad about what I did, maybe I should feel like such a horrible person, but I don’t. If anything, I think I let her get away easy…this time.

---

Dreamland is a book that shows abuse in a relationship. The whole story is told in the point of view of Caitlin, the girl who is being abused. It is great, we get to see how she feels, how she takes the pain. We get to see the struggles it puts on her life.

Then there’s Rogerson. All we know about him is he hits Caitlin. If the book was told in his point of view, rather than hers, we would see so much more depth to the story. We would see why he hits her, what it does to him. We would see his thoughts in the moment, not just hers.

Having the story be told in the point of view of Caitlin, automatically makes us think that she is the angel, and Rogerson is the devil. If the story was told differently, there would be a whole different vibe, a whole different setup, a whole different story.