Willow

Standing tall and strong, I am a willow tree.

Though my roots beneath me remain hidden,

I outreach my arms to others,

All the way to their base.

Whispering of wind flows in my ears.

As my sways illustrate their song,

My branches embrace too much.

Until the end of me,

I will love.

Blackness

Author's Note: This piece I wrote in the point of view of someone with severe depression, and what could be the worst of it. This piece is ficticious and is a creative piece.

With school folders in hand, the muted hallways scream in my ears and I wonder why I was born once again. While passing the couples that swear they're in love and friends that sound like a broken record reciting their times together every time they meet eyes, my mind wants dissolve and my stomach begins to eat away at itself. Inside me, my gut rumbles as it's calling for food, but I know better than to give in to the pain. One day, I hope, my starvation will pay off towards a leaner body. Nonetheless, I deserve the suffer my diet is punching me with. Continuing to walk face down, I lunge for my locker ignoring the laughter that I'm sure is aimed at my obesity. I feel my cheeks flush and as soon as I open my locker, I tug at my backpack and slop in my textbooks and journal. Wrapping my bag around my shoulders, I follow the tiles on the floor that lead me out of the school.

Throughout the bus ride home, my heavy heart only drops farther to the ground. My head leans on the fogged up window being rejected with every pothole the bus encounters. Amidst my thoughts, we pull up to my beaten up ranch style home and I step off the bus with the lingered bus exhaust surrounding me. Both of my hands are grasping the straps of my backpack with my fingernails digging into the stitching. Lining my driveway is a salty brown mush that blends into the blanket of snow layering over the ground. All of the trees are weighted down by thick buckets of white. Though I admit nothing compares to the weight I carry wherever I go, whatever I do. By the time I reach my front door, I stand there and come to a full summary on my life and how in the next few hours, I won't be in existence any longer; it's not like anyone will notice or care anyway. Examining the front door, I notice small details I haven't before. The moss green paint is peeling around the edges of the door and cracks are quite obvious in the molding. Precautiously, I turn around and scan up and down the road making sure no one was watching me and no one knows where I am. When all is silent, I acutely snap back to the door and shove my hand into my jean pocket grabbing a hold of the house key. Sticking the key in the silver handle, I whip my shoulder into the door and listen for the door's creak that gradually screeches louder.

"Hello?" I throw out into the blackness of the room and absorb that my voice sounds so alien to me for not using it the past few days. No one responded to my call, so I turned on the lights and ripped open my backpack for my journal and my black ball-point pen. As of now, I will proceed to paint a pleasing picture for the world by removing myself and all of the disgust that follows along with me. The pen, equal to the weight of my body, draws out my faintest memories from when I didn't know better than to be happy. Numbness surfaced my face when I noticed a damp part of the paper, where the words blurred together as if they were confused. Crowded in my throat is a lump of pain I let out in awkward hiccups. Outcrying to no one, my vision becomes disoriented and my cheeks are drenched with lonely sadness while the tears continue to rain down uncontrollably. I sign off my last farewell then drag myself over to the bathroom.

Last year, I was diagnosed depression pills for my constant bleakness. Instructions indicated that I'm highly recommended to swallow one pill right before I go to bed. Fearfully recalling this discipline, I stood in front of the mirror with knees that couldn't stay straight and with my eyes focused on the orange bottle of recently filled depression pills. Shaking like I have a terrible case of Parkinson's disease, I manage to wrap my hand around the bottle and twist off the cap. Attempting to quiet my tears, I set the bottle down to tie up my hair. For once I am grateful to be alone, for no one to see the mess of sobs and my last moments. Wiping my face I scoop up the medicine and spill out several pills, enough to do the job. Staring intently at the pills in hand, I listen to the silence of the house that helps drill in my decision. My elbow bends. My hand snaps. My throat swallows. Dropping the medication bottle, I fall to my knees and collapse on the ground, just laying there. Embraced by the cold floor, it pinches my skin and I realize that I can't move, but my eyes and ears are slightly functional. The bathroom entrance begins to appear fuzzy to me as I stare blankly out the door. When suddenly I hear something familiar, a door's creaking.

With the moments left I have to live and my rapidly decreasing knowledge of simplistic things, I recall who this person entering our house should be, my mother. I knew she would come home at one point. Confusion erodes my brain and I feel myself slipping away from reality even more. My mom calls out my name, as she would normally do, and her voice is left ringing in my ears over and over and over again. Dizzily I make out two brown shoes at the foot of the bathroom tile and hear a puzzled tone of voice coming from my mom. Once again, she repeated my name.

All at once, blackness overcame everything I ever knew and ever was.

Rewriting My Past-- Point Of View

Author's Note: This is a piece that I wrote for point of view on the song lyrics "Not Over You" by Gavin Degraw. I wrote in the girl's point of view where she really didn't want to break up with him, but she was faced with someone who didn't want their relationship to continue so she was forced to end the relationship and not be seen with him.

My arms limply fell through my raincoat's arms, and I push my way out the bulky restaurant door. Rain collects in my hood and mats up my hair, though, I don't acknowledge the mess a bit. My head is spinning, and no matter what I tell myself, I know I will never forget this day. Reviving back to just a few minutes ago, his eyes were glossed and red patches formed on his cheeks. Between each word of letting down the relationship with much sorrow, he clenched his teeth and tightened his jaw that featured the muscles on his face. I never wished for this to happen, I love him, but the threatening force I was challenged with prior to our break up demanded the worst.

Memories strike back with the same racing heart, and same bewildered mind. Shrinking back even farther than the break up, I recall the writing on the wall that threw my life off-guard. The few seconds that the villainous I was faced with had to threaten my life were used well, and were very effective for her. Although, my memories that are hoarding my mind aren't coming in flashes, rather raw throwbacks to the entire scene. If it weren't for the criminal that I have never met, and had she not threatened my life and relationship, I would have continued my life happily with my boyfriend. Nevertheless, she did interrupt my life, and now I'm expected to live with the one person I can't live without while he knows none of the notion.

Every step I take is a hum for help that no one can recognize and my heart aches for how he's taking the hit now. Knowing him, he will probably take the blame, which I know is unquestionably not his fault. I want to approach him and tell him everything, but it would be the end of me if I did so. Each move of mine is being stalked as if I were legendary, but the attention I'm receiving from the criminal is making me feel infamous.

Later in the week, feeling like it has been months apart, I give him a longing call and he implies that I am no longer on his mind. What he doesn't know is that I understand him inside and out. The pain in his voice bleeds with sleepless nights and endless dreams of reuniting our relationship. Overcoming the yearning to see him again is like my stomach is a wrench and every word I hear from him makes my gut hinge. As I place the phone in it's dock after the conversation, It's certain that I can never speak to him again and it's imperative for me to get out of town, and that's exactly what I do.

Leaving the chaos all behind, I mournfully drag myself into my beat up blue sedan and start the engine. Leading my way into a new life, I have no destination, little cash, and a far cry of what is needed to make a fresh start. Though I will never come back to this place again, the memories will be imprinted into my soul, rejuvenating the remembrances every day.

While the night creeps along, with the moon glowing high in the sky, my travels come to an end for today. Trying to contain my sorrows, I'm hollow inside and stupefied that got through the day. With endless days like this to come, there is little hope for me and my future. Hours tick by as the drivers seat cradles my body and welcomes me to my new life. My optimism and prayers are minor, but as I notice a spark fly across the sky, I can't help but shut my eyes and lay out my wishes for the shooting star to materialize. I wish that he will understand that I still love him; I wish that he knows it wasn't my choice to leave him; I wish that he would move on and forget that he ever knew me. The star passes and I'm only left to imagine how my life and his will play out. Though each hour that passes me by, I notice the great amount of weight that drags my eyelids to the floor, while my head occasionally bobs from asleep to awake. Before long, I give in, and I lie in my car for the night on the warm padded chair awaiting my opportunity to ignite life into my new and renewed world, ready for me to reconstruct my days from the core.

---

Written in the lyrics of Gavin Degraw's "Not Over You" hit, is the point of view of a man that is trying his best to overcome the sudden breakup with his ex-girlfriend. What I wrote portrays the point of view from the ex-girlfriend's eyes and explaining her reasoning for the unexpected separation. I'm just going to point out a few things that I specifically made sure to add into the creative piece that are based off of the lyrics. 

Primarily, the main point I wanted to get across was how mortified the ex-girlfriend was that she had to end the relationship due to someone else's wanting instead of hers. I didn't want to get in too deep of detail about what happened the day where her life was threatened only because it would rail too far off and make it seem like she was more frightened instead of the complete depression I was looking for. In the song, the quote, "We both admit we had it good/ But until then it's alienation, I know/ That much is understood." Here, you can tell he knows that she at least loved him at one point, but now he thinks that she left him behind and she no longer has feelings for him. Partially relating to that, he sings, "And if I had the chance to renew/ You know there isn't a thing I wouldn't do/ I could get back on the right track." I added the thought that the ex-girlfriend is aware that the ex-boyfriend thinks he did something wrong because of this quote in the song. Dating someone brings out your compatibility, and she knew that he thought the ending of the relationship depended on him, which I brought out in the text that it doesn't.

From the lingering confusion between the recently separated couple, the reason why I had her leave town was vital as well. The quote, "If you ask me how I'm doing/ I would say I'm doing just fine," because it seems like they were generating exclusively simple conversation, and he felt the longing to be with her again every time he saw her. This was the same for the woman as well, that is, every time she saw him she felt that same longing. Which lead to even more sadness, not only for the ex-boyfriend, but the woman as well. The pain was too dragging, so that is why I had her leave town, into the unknown world to be able to start over.

Later, after I made her leave town, I mentioned her looking to a shooting star and desperately desiring for her dreams to come true, while awaiting her new life. What provoked me to place this in here is the single line, "Hope, hope there's a conversation." I chose this not because it was talking about the conversation, but the fact that he was  longing and hoping for something to occur. When I figured that if we wants something, there must be another objective the ex-girlfriend is headed for; that would be her new life away from the threats and regrets.

Now that it the points I've made are clear, the change in the point of view is essential as well. When you are listening to the song "Not Over You" with the point of view of the man, you feel sorrow for him and wonder why the woman broke up with him. On the contrary, we don't have the perspective of the girl, accordingly we don't know what her emotions are up to at this point. Meanwhile, in the creative piece I've written, the point of view of the woman is emphasized and you feel pain for her, though, you feel deep ache for the man in this point of view in addition. On top of those sensations, there is the feeling of will for the woman to succeed in life after her love was separated by a fine line like water and oil. Although the feelings that are generated in both of the point of views differ, more information on the relationship is given in the perspective of the woman allowing the reader greater consciousness of the relationship's previously obscure points.

Resolving the details from the diverse perspectives, I just wanted to call attention to a few of those aspects that I included and why I thought to do so. The song, "Not Over You" by Gavin DeGraw, gives us many lines to be able to create an alternate perspective on the whole situation. There's always two sides to every story and this is why I chose to lay out what I did in my creative piece above.

Difference of War

Author's Note: This is a piece I wrote for Social Studies class intended to show the how even though the war was one, it can be viewed in different perspectives. The novel Woods Runner, and the movie The Patriot, show how The Revolutionary War can be viewed from multiple different situations.

Though the Revolutionary War was one war, many people visualize how the war happened in diverse perspectives. For example, in the movie The Patriot, the main plot is in the Revolutionary War and is shown up front with the main characters in an army form fighting the Red Coats. Whereas in the novel Wood's Runner, in the main plot, the main character sneaked his way through the war finding his kidnapped parents with no more than two people alongside him the whole expedition. These disagreeing aspects are only the beginning of the two different perspectives from the Revolutionary War. Adjoining that conflicting element, there is the difference of purposes, knowledge of the war, and the surroundings in which the main characters are used to.

The contrasted journeys that the two story lines went by began with a variation of intention. Throughout the novel Woods Runner by Gary Paulsen, the main character, Samuel, is searching for his parents who were trapped and being used as slaves for the Red Coats. Samuel's calling in this story is to rescue his parents and bring them back to the security of their hometown. On the contrary, the movie The Patriot, there were multiple people that were looking for their independence, and that was their motivation and hunger for the fight. Rather than chasing for parents or someone in particular, the colonists were on a quest to be the victor of their freedom. 

From the two different views of purposes, also notice the amount of knowledge on the war that the main characters have. Samuel, in the novel Wood's Runner, knew very little of the war and what was going on. Due to the fact that Samuel is from a wooded area and not near many houses, communication is limited and the war is less known in that area. The difference with the movie is that the main character was an adult, so he was more aware of the war and it's happenings. Not only did being an adult help, but the location of where they lived contributed to easier access to British updates.

Similar to where the knowledge of the main characters is coming from, there's also the factor of the surroundings that the main characters are living in. As mentioned previously, Samuel is searching for his parents coming from a thick forested area, where the communication is low, but adventure is unlimited. Furthermore, there was no say in whether the people of the forest wanted to go to war or not. Whereas in the film, colonists are constantly in communication. Additionally, the town that the movie was based off of decided whether or not to go to war, therefore they knew everything that was going on primarily only because they voted war or no war.

Although comparing the main topic is simple for the novel Wood's Runner and the movie The Patriot, being the American Revolution, the details to the different situations are mainly divergent. Overlapping the difference of purposes, amount of knowledge of the war, and the original surroundings of their homes, the contrasting components, are far greater than the comparing components in the novel and film. Perspectives on the war can be visualized in multiple ways, but the Revolutionary War is surely a war to remember.

Hopeless Soul- Theme Essay

Author's Note: This essay was written to show that the universal theme, losing hope, is found in the novel Breathless, by Lurlene McDaniel. Additionally, I also tried to show how this theme is related to other books as well. 

Hope only lives in the soul if you allow it. The summer before Travis Morrison's senior year of High School, he doesn't need any hope, because he already has everything he needs. When you're the best diver in the state, it's hard not to be cocky and proclaim you have it all. Besides, what could ever go wrong? When one diving stunt sends him to the hospital, Travis loses all the hope he never knew he had. Throughout the novel Breathless, by Lurlene McDaniel, the universal theme of losing hope is threaded between the pages; the theme in Breathless is similar to many other novels like: Virtuosity and The Secret Life Of Bees. 

Travis, the main character in this novel, was on cloud nine. He had the girl, the athleticism, and confidence was shown in the way he walked. Diving was his life, he simply couldn't live without it. For, one day his confidence level peaked and had the courage to dive off a towering cliff into a lake. As soon as Travis jumped he heard a snap in his leg and knew that his jump was a careless decision. What he did not know was that from this jump he was going to find bone cancer in his leg. Discovering this was an eye-opener, but he was extremely determined he would beat cancer, and there was no doubt in his mind that he wouldn't dive back into the water again. As he was thinking about his cancer, Travis tells himself, "I'm determined to do it a whole lot quicker." Travis thought he would never give up. 

After some time with that determination and hope on board, Travis was informed that his leg needed to be removed in order to clear the cancer from his body. Although he fought the doctors not to do so, he knew that his chances of diving again were one in a million now, even chances of the cancer spreading were quite high at this point. More hope was lost and Travis was now taken away from the one thing that he has only known in his life, diving. "My throat clogs up when I think about not looking down on pool water again with judges and teammates watching." Travis is mournfully convinced that he will never return to his regular life. The pain in his body is not only physical now, it's emotional as well; all the more reason to just give up.

With the power of losing hope overtaking his body already, there was another diagnosis revealed on Travis's case that lead to even deeper misery. Doctors found in his body that the cancer spread to his lungs. In addition to the pain before, it's now agonizing to move a muscle. However, Travis doesn't want to be hooked up to a thousand different machines, he wants to die naturally without a robot force feeding him and breathing for him. Until he had a seizure and was unable to control where he was taken to. Finding himself exactly where he did not want to be, Travis had a stroke from the seizure and can't say a word in his defense. His friend feels frustration while thinking, "He's alive- a machine breathes for him, another monitors his heart; another cleans his kidneys." Practically dead, Travis' friends know what he wants, and so does his sister. When one early morning, before the sun rose, Travis closed his eyes and escaped from his limp body.

While understanding the suffering and lost hope that Travis was dealing with, don't forget the numerous other novels that incorporate the power of losing hope theme as well. Similar to Breathless, the novels Virtuosity by Jessica Martinez, and The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd both had a theme of losing hope throughout the book, though in a more particular perspective. Within the covers of Virtuosity, the main character, Carmen, lives with a strict mother. Over time, Carmen learns to give up hope in pleasing her mother and moves out of the house. Linked to the theme in Breathless, Travis lost hope in his life. Lastly, in the book The Secret Life of Bees, one of the characters, May, gives up hope on looking for the good in the world. She was struggling to survive without her twin sister who was practically her backbone, therefore all hope was lost and she committed suicide to see her twin once again. Even though this isn't the main concern throughout the novel, the author does show the theme of giving up hope in this addition to the story. Mirrored to Travis' life, he simply wanted to reunite with his longing for diving. 

Recognizing the similar novels, remember that losing hope is a universal theme that's found in numerous books, like Breathless. Travis displays how effortless it is to surrender to the cancer he has. All he ever had disappeared, and Travis couldn't find the hope to replace the pain. Hope only lives in the soul if you allow it; Travis didn't allow hope, but gave up.

Fighting the Grave- Prediction Piece

Author's Note: Here is a prediction piece I wrote, and in the beginning is what I think will happen after the novel Beautiful Malice by Rebecca James, sort of like an epilogue. After the epilogue is a small essay explaining what I did in the text and why I did so.

As I sink my feet into the cool sand, ocean waves lap over my toes. I'm all alone, watching the sun be reborn another day with it's beautiful crimson red hands extending my way over the Pacific. Wrapped around me are my blue pajamas and white bed sheet that I tore from my bed to come out to the dramatic seaside. Off into the distance, near my welcoming home, I hear the delicate little voice of my sweet Sarah, "Mommy!" She shoved her thumb into her mouth, while the other arm is occupied by hugging her blanket. Sarah's tiny feet splashed through the sand coming towards me.

"Mommy, what are you doing out here?"

"Just enjoying the sunrise sweetie," I explain, "Isn't it beautiful?"

"Yeah it is, but daddy's making breakfast now. You comin'?"

"Yes, I will be right there, okay honey?"

"OK," Sarah concludes and strides back to the house.

Everyday I'm reminded from the simple conversations with Sarah, like the one we just had, how thankful and blessed I am to have her. Even though I know Sarah is her own unique self, she significantly reminds me of how my little sister, Rachel, used to be. With Sarah by my side, I feel like she is a sign from God to give me a fresh start to accept the past, while molding my future into something I've always wanted. Perhaps it wasn't only Sarah being born, but myself too; there is nothing more I would want for the loving family that I was saved with. I digest these thoughts as I walk on Sarah's imprinted footsteps she left behind. 

Roughing my feet against the wooden steps, I continue to climb home. Once I open the back doors, a warm hug of cinnamon and thick maple syrup invites me in. "Mom! It's your favorite," Sarah smiles excitedly like she's more thrilled for me to eat breakfast than herself. She's too cute, with her messy hair, glowing eyes, and all. I feel a smile tickle my cheeks and I can't help but let out a brief laugh, "why, yes it is Sarah." My husband, Robbie, dished me a plate with two perfect pieces of french toast surrounded by sticky maple syrup and powdered sugar sprinkled over, just how I like it. 

Shoving pieces into my mouth, I reawaken the feelings of Alice and how soulless she was. These random occurrences of her popping into my mind need come to an end. Some parts of me regret not going to her funeral, you know for not seeing with my own two eyes that she's positively dead. Maybe this is why she reappears in my mind too often. From the desperate desire for all of this mess to be over and done with, I decide it's time for me to visit Alice Parrie's grave. My thoughts must have really reflected how I appeared due to the inquisitive stares I received from Robbie and Sarah.

"What's on your mind, Katherine," Robbie asks.

"Oh, it's nothing," I respond, "but I think I'm going to take a drive to clear my head this morning. I'll talk with you later in the afternoon."

"Alright, lucky for me, I get to spend some quality time with my buddy Sarah," Robbie understands and gives Sarah a tight squeeze.

Acknowledging that I am leaving, I nod and snatch my car keys from the counter heading out the front door. The soft summer breeze whispered into my ears things I can't explain, but is clear in my brain. How I'm making the right decision and everything will go as planned. Sliding into the car, I cranked up the air conditioning since sweat is starting to build up in the creases of my body. Assuming I would eventually visit Alice's grave, I memorized every turn and swerve I would come upon. From the city lights, to an off-road covered in trees branching over my car as I drove; the drive is diverse. Rocks crumbled beneath my tires on the beaten path as I parked the minivan. When I pushed my door open, I noticed the sun higher in the sky staring down at me. When I curved around the car, I could clearly examine the shape of the graveyard. 

Alice was buried in a shadowed graveyard containing no more than twenty tombstones. Placed in the front row, farthest to the right, was a man named John Kendrick who died in 1982. The year of each death increases as I move from one row to the next. Finally, I come to the very last row to a tombstone that is more clean-cut with shriveled up roses lying at the foot of stone. A frosty patch of air cuts through my skin as I read in my head "Alice Perrie". Those two chipped in words make my heart stop, and I can feel the blood rush from my face to the pit of my stomach; creating a knot that makes me want to regurgitate my breakfast. I'm not one to believe in ghosts or anything, but the chill in the air doesn't reflect the summer's day I was sweating over moments ago. Alice's hideous spirit lingers in the air, and I wanted no more of it.

"Alice," I firmly state, "I don't want you in my life. You killed parts of me that were so important, and I'm sure you knew that. Don't hate me for a second, because, I have done nothing to you or your family while yours destroyed mine for the longest time. I had to change my name, Alice, because of your brother and what he did, and I learned quickly that you were no different. I can imagine that you are expecting an answer from me to the question that you were oh-so-concerned about. So here it is," I say choking back tears, "I am not happy that my sister died, I loved her for the death of me and it was not my fault." My voice crackles as I add one last comment, "Oh yeah, Alice, forget me. Forget that I ever lived on this earth. I don't want to feel you chasing me anymore. You got to follow me when you were alive and now your time is over and done with, leave me alone and enjoy your time living in the dirt."

Finding myself gasping for breath, and I realize that I don't think I even took a breath while spilling out my most dragging secrets. Although, nothing happens. No more cold spot, no more heaviness inside, and no more regret. My mascara is smudged, no doubt, but overcoming this makes me lighter. Alice weakened me more than I could ever decipher. Furthermore today, I feel as though she officially died off and I didn't know what to do with myself, having this burden lifted. I ran my fingers across the top of the stone feeling the small icy ridges vibrate beneath my fingertips. Thereafter, I turned and walked away not taking one glance back, except one up to the sun, seeing that it was hanging directly above my head. For one thing I know, I will never return to this place again.

Closing the car door, I notice that I'm still wearing my blue pajamas. My teeth shine as a grin rises upon my face. "Let's get outta here," I say to myself laughing. Starting the car engine, I pull off onto the road that escorts me home. Before long, I open my front door to the remaining scent of french toast and an embrace from Sarah. She clung onto my shirt and jammed her face into my stomach saying, "Mommy, what took so long?" Responding carefully, I look up to Robbie standing in the hall and say, "Oh I just got caught up with a few things. Are you two ready for lunch?" There was a quick response of yes, so I began making some soup with crackers. 

While making lunch, I absorb the day so far. The sun rises and falls as days go by, and that won't change. Whereas, if I glimpse up with another perspective, maybe that will make all the difference. I begin to recall the visit to Alice's grave, the poisonous response of it all. Having the grave out of the sun made me feel like she brought this upon herself, you know, being in a shadowy area for the rest of her life. Despite the sickening emotion that this evokes, I am content because somehow I know that this is the last time Alice will ever appear in my mind. Here and now, my smile beams across the stove top and I stir in the final ingredient of my soup, love.

---

Shown here is a prediction as to what will happen next after the novel Beautiful Malice by Rebecca James. There are many things that I would like to point out that I did specifically in this piece to show the development and change that happened or happens through what I wrote. Representing these things through the motions Katherine goes through, the way her mind thinks differently, and the karma of Alice in the end. 

Notice how the piece starts out having her watch the sun as it rises and throughout the piece, she looks up at the sun. What I am trying to get across from constantly saying this is that she watches it rise as her fears disappear and her spirits are lifted with the sun. Additionally, I have her living on the beach because it represents her always being with her almost-fiance boyfriend, Mick, since he died in the ocean and personally I think a beach represents fulfillment and happiness which she has now that Alice is gone. With that, I have her walk in Sarah's footsteps in the sand because it is representing her growing as Sarah grows, too. Also I have her married to Robbie who was a extremely loyal friend to her in the past when Alice was against her. Furthermore, he was neglected many times in the book and now Katherine loves and cares for him so he finally has something he's always wanted. 

With looking at the insight of her motions in play, her thoughts are just as important. In the beginning of the epilogue, I have her standing alone, keeping herself to her thoughts, but it is mysterious as to what she is thinking deeply in her heart other than how wonderful the sunrise is. Whereas in the end, as soon as she visits Alice's grave and says a few words, her mind is more open to things than they ever were previously. Moreover, in the piece, she explains how she thinks parts of Sarah remind her of her younger sister who died named Rachel, whom she loves both dearly. With this she's delightfully welcoming Sarah and Robbie closer into her life, along with the love-filled soup.

While considering Katherine's thoughts, Alice's fate is vital as well. Alice always would follow Katherine when she was alive and in this piece it explains that Katherine believe she's followed by Alice when she's dead through cold spots. Although as soon as Katherine "speaks" to Alice at her grave the cold spot immediately vanishes and Katherine is left alone. Alice is also destined to be in a shadowed graveyard with no sunlight seeking through, symbolizing no happiness or contentment after she died. Lastly, she was left out of mind to Katherine after the final thoughts, in other words, she was forgotten. 

From mental to physical actions, during the whole piece different details were added with individual purposes. Whether it be involving the horrendous Alice, or her beloved daughter, Katherine always has a story to tell. Bear in mind, what I did for the epilogue helped display my point I was reaching for. Katherine can watch the sun rise each day after a hard life thus far, and she still looks forward to the positives to come.

Bruiser- Character Development

Author's Note: Bruiser by Neal Shusterman was an incredible novel about overcoming major struggle. This is a analysis of the main character, Brewster, and how he develops throughout the story. 

Sometimes I find myself waking up with bruises, but their origin is unknown to me. The main character in the novel Bruiser by Neal Shusterman, Brewster, wakes up with these kind of bruises all the time, almost daily. Occasionally, it may be more than a bruise, perhaps a fracture in his arm. Why? Well, Brewster can steal without the desire. Although, he doesn't steal groceries or pointless toys, he steals wounds from those he loves. Brewster was born with this disadvantage and he will live with it forever. The catalyst, Bronte in this story helps him through his struggles that he goes through and helps him turn into a more loving person, rather than filled with forced and unwanted resentment. This book helps explain his overcoming of the power and how to control it in order to make friends, undo a relationship with an abusive and alcoholic relative, and truly waking up from the coma bringing a promising future.

 

From Brewster's many transformations throughout the novel, one aspect was befriending people. Starting the book, Brewster was known as the person "most likely to receive death penalty" due to him not wanting people to look to him as a friend. He wanted to shut out the world so there was no chance for him to produce additional wounds. Throughout the book, Bronte helps him realize friends are for the greater good, no matter the pain. Bronte promised to him that she, and others who know of his condition, would learn to want their pain so his suffer would be limited. Her friends become his friends and his heart grows as if it's the roots of grass in the springtime. For instance, Bronte was comprehending, "Brew was embraced by my friends and was finally able to feel a part of a circle larger than just his immediate family." Notice how the quote said: "finally", and said his only friends in the past were his "immediate family". If Brewster didn't have Bronte, he wouldn't have known to open up to friends, let alone meet the charming companions that Bronte has.
 

Now that Brewster is beginning to make new acquaintances, his eyes open up a little wider and he realizes that loving his uncle needs to be abandoned. Uncle Hoyt caused Brew excruciating pain without even laying a finger on him. In this story, Brewster's brother, Cody, was referred as a "rag doll" because that's who Uncle Hoyt would aim for; it is him who takes the real hits. "My uncle. Who left me battered. Yet never laid a hand on me..." With time, Bronte taught Brew how unacceptable his uncle's actions are and he learned this in just in time. Uncle Hoyt's drinking problem was outrageous one day when Brew returned from school. Without even entering the house he could feel the pressure on his chest building up; Brew sensed the sinfulness of Uncle Hoyt. Immediately when he saw him, he was aware of what was going on, he was having a stroke. Changing wasn't just an option now, it was a life or death situation at this point. Throughout this branch of the novel, Brew overcomes an immeasurable mountain, he finds strength to tell Uncle Hoyt how abhorrent he is. "Can I find it in my heart to NOT find it in my heart? I dig down, down, down, to make the numbness taking root in my body invade that place in me that still cares about you and purge it so that I can leave you," convincing himself it's not worth dying over Uncle Hoyt. 

 

Stronger than ever now by overpowering his uncle, farther along the lines of the book, Brew trips into a coma from saving Bronte before she drowned.  I'm convinced that this coma he's in is more of a symbolic reference. For instance, he isn't completely transformed yet. Despite the fact Brew woke up from his coma on the very last page of the book, there is no doubt that he has developed from the foreshadowing due to what Bronte's brother offers Brew through thought, "So open your eyes, Brew. Open your eyes, and talk to us. We'll keep our pain, but I promise we'll share our joy. Talk to us, Brew . . . because we're finally ready to take your call." This is letting us know, not only that his past has been tough, but his future will be bright with this family along side him. From this promise, Brew will gain an insight on the world filled with more pleasure than before. 

Bruiser's story line is weaved through another novel titled Virtuosity by Jessica Martinez. Within each novel, the main characters both have an intense guardian. The protagonist, Carmen, has a mother that is incredibly controlling and demanding because she wants to live through Carmen and have her be a violinist that the entire world knows. Feeling as Brew did toward his Uncle, Carmen wanted to breakout of her house and decide for herself what she is and isn't passionate for and doing this all while her mother is unaware. Eventually Carmen meets her catalyst, Jeremy, who leads her away from her mother and into his arms. Nearing the end of the book, Carmen is given the option to be content and do what suits her. Reflecting back towards Bruiser, Brew has the option in the conclusion as well to decide what his heart is really set for.
 

Virtuosity has an extremely similar design to Bruiser in which both characters changed dramatically. Essentially, Brew changed by creating new friends, separating from his Uncle Hoyt, and lastly awaking from a symbolic-type coma all through Bronte. Once Brew's eyes are opened, it is that much easier for him to see the opportunities that his life is welcoming. If it wasn't for the catalyst, Bronte, Brew would have been dead and his life would be over. Although, with her, doors are opened and his future is glimmering with everlasting hope.