Clear Conscience

Author's Note: This is my creative writing prediction piece for  the story 'Thank you, M'am".  This is pretty much a piece that I wrote that shows that I predict that Roger will always remember the lesson that Mrs. Jones taught him.

With a sigh and a groan of his empty stomach, Roger stands up, brushes off his grubby jeans and trudges farther down the alley to the replenished dumpster. In the dumpster, an ocean of crumpled burger wrappers, dingy napkins, and flattened fry containers stare back at him.  A filthy, gunk ridden arm later, Roger evacuates his arm from the ocean of disgusting with little reward.  Roger stalks back to his makeshift 'home' in this rank New York alley and plops himself down to dine on his gourmet dumpster dinner.  The never ending stream of people 'on this New York city street amaze him; besides the general office worker clones, weird faces and frightening outfits flash by Roger all throughout the day.   So many people, all of them have so much money and wealth and they won't share it with you?  Greedy jerks.  What if I just took some random old ladies purse?  She could be as good as dead, walking along this busy city street with a purse full of retirement money and goodies.  Immediately, Roger shakes the thought out of his head.  No, Mrs. Jones taught you better.  She taught you that stealing from people that work hard is daffy, and you will look like a fool if you are ever caught by a merciless soul.  Roger slumps further down in his seat while releasing a breath he didn't know that he was holding.  For yet another freezing night, Roger sits alone at dusk with an empty pocket, but guilt free conscience.  

No Words

Author's Note: This is a prediction of what I predict will happen at the end of Buried Treasure.  I think this will be the ending, because just like any other horror story, you think that there will be a happy ending and the BOOM major plot twist with just a hint of karma entwined in the mix.

Cody stands there with sweaty, shaky hands.  Devils and Angels blabber back and forth inside his head; 'Don't do it! You make a promise!' 'Come on! We will be rich!'.  He shakes the thoughts out out his head,  and snatches the hook off the floor without hesitation and tosses the golden treasure into the cast iron mold above the fire.  Releasing the breath that he didn't know he was holding, Cody slumps back into a chair near the fire and waits for the gold to melt.  Somewhere between settling down in the chair, and the gold being completely melted, Cody slipped away into a slumber.  

Cody is awakened by a loud thump thump thump at the door.  Like a bunny near a person, he freezes instantly.  So many thoughts from taking the hot iron cast and running, to acting like it wasn't him run through his head, but no thought turned to action as he stay frozen in disbelief.  With a creeek, the heavy wooden door finally opens and Cody can't find the air in the room.  At the mouth of the door stand Clarence Buchanan.  

With dark, menacing, unforgiving eyes, Clarence saunters over to the still frozen Cody.  And the whole time, Cody can't even find the words to scream.

In Hopes of an Easy Way Out

Author's Note: I just feel like some people I know really need to read this.

Sweaty palms and shallow breaths; your hands are shaking.  Black, mascara stained tears race down your face, they have been for a while now.  A million thoughts are jumping around in your head, but a lone thought sticks out, You are worthless and no one loves you.  With one last sob, you bring the razor up to your wrist and start to cut a now jagged line from  the racking tremors coursing through your body.  You have done this countless times before, but you know tonight is the night you are going to end it all.  The whole time you cut, all you can think of is You are worthless and no one loves you.  You are worthless and no one loves you.  You are worthless and no one loves you.  Too many teenagers nowadays think life is so bad, and their way out of it all is self harm or even suicide; it's not.

At least once in your life, you have thought about what life would be like without you.  Images of happier parents, happier friends, and happier family members flash through your mind, but it's all an illusion.  In the heat of the moment, it seems like no one will miss you, like no one will even care, but you don't even know how much you mean to them.  Just for arguments sake, let's say that you have no friends, your parents are unloving, and all of your family is dead to you; people will still miss you. Remember the girl who saw you slip up about things at home and start crying at school?  Remember the boy who made you smile when you were about to cry?  Remember that teacher that you talked to like a friend?  They will all miss you.  Every single one of them.

In that moment when you think you are about to make life easier, you think about others, but do you think about yourself?  Do you think about what you are actually doing, and how much you are going to miss out on in your life?  You are just going through a time where everything is going haywire; that doesn't mean that you are going to be stuck in the hurricane of bleakness for the rest of your life.  Just like the rainbow after the rain, things are bound to improve in the near future.  In the eyes of every teenager, everything seems like the end of the world.  Just ask yourself, Is taking my own life really going to solve anything? No.  Suicide is a permanent solution for temporary  problems.

You envision yourself finally at peace; you know that once this is done the universe will go back to normal but just like all of your other assumptions, you are wrong.  Unfortunately, we live in a screwy society.  Society is completely oblivious to the fact that they are the reason why so many people commit suicide.  Bullies rein, no one stands up for the bullied, and that destroys kids.  I wonder if they know that they are driving kids to taking their own lives.  But do you know what the worst part of it all is?  The damage is already done, the cuts have already been made, the teens have already died, and know one can comprehend why.  We blame our guilt on society, but our heads are too far up in the clouds to realize that we are society. Society will always demand perfection and shun the imperfect, which is why so many teens feel unequal and unloved which, if not corrected, can lead to death by your own hand.

Sweaty palms and shallow breaths; your hands are shaking.  Black, mascara stained tears race down your face, they have been for a while now.  A million thoughts are jumping around in your head, but a lone thought sticks out, You are worthless and no one loves you.  With one last sob, you bring the razor up to your wrist and start to cut a now jagged line from  the racking tremors coursing through your body.  The blood starts to course down your arm, and you arrive at the point of no return.  Still blinded from the truth, you say your goodbyes to the world, you know they will be better off without you.  Little do you know, they won't be; your teacher, the friendly stranger, and the boy who made you smile, they will all have a small pit of sorrow in their heart for you.  They wonder why you were driven to cut off your life at the start.  Before you really got to live.  What about everyone else?  Society only cares now that you are already gone, and society blames society for practically holding the razor to your arm.  And you? You were completely unaware to the fact that you matter: always have, always will.  It may not seem like it would make a difference if you were alive or dead, but it will; don't fool yourselves, you are important, not a waste of human life, and 100% irreplaceable.