The name Jezebel has come down through the centuries to be used as a general name for all wicked women. Jezebel is portrayed in modern usage as a controlling whore in such phrases as "painted Jezebel." (The "painted" part refers to a line in 2 Kings, just before she is defenestrated, where she puts on her makeup). From a generalized Christian point of view, the story and concept of Jezebel has been used to refer to those who refute perceived evidence and belief in God. From a biblical and generalized Christian point of view, being compared to Jezebel would suggest that the implied person would be a pagan or an apostate. While it is often negative in connotation, some embrace the image, as evidenced by various lingerie designs named after Jezebel.
Edith Piaf recorded a song called "Jezebel," which was later covered in tribute by Ann Wilson of Heart.
Pioneer Virginia gospel/pop quartet of the '30s and '40s, The Golden Gate Quartet recorded a song titled "Jezebel" on their Rock My Soul album; the song reflects the story of Jezebel, and was re-recorded and adapted for Recoil's album Liquid (March 2000).
Bette Davis won an Oscar for Best Actress in William Wyler's Jezebel (1938)
Frankie Laine had a big pop hit in 1951 with a song called Jezebel.
Indie musician Sam Beam (aka Iron & Wine) recorded a song somewhat sympathetic to Jezebel on his Woman King EP.
Australian rock band The Drones have Jezebel as the opening track of their third album "Gala Mill". A sprawling 7 minute song, it appears to cover topics from nuclear testing in Australia to the murder of American journalist Daniel Pearl.
Nathan Price mentions and compares his daughter to Jezebel in the novel The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver.
British grime artist Dizzee Rascal recorded a song titled "Jezebel" on his debut album Boy In Da Corner; it is a tale of a young girl and the choices she makes.
British singer Sade Adu (Sade) also recorded a song titled "Jezebel" on her Promise album in 1985 about a girl who knows how to get what she wants.
The American band 10,000 Maniacs also recorded a song titled "Jezebel" on their 1992 album Our Time on Eden, concerning Jezebel's regrets about the inexorability of her mission.
In Tom Robbins's novel Skinny Legs and All, Jezebel is presented as a down to earth, sympathetic, and strong female character.
In Isaac Asimov's novel Caves of Steel, Jezebel is described as an ideal wife, and a woman who, in full compliance with the mores of the time, promotes her own religion conscientiously.
In Memories by Leonard Cohen, Jezebel is mentioned as being sung about by Frankie Lane in a dance club.
Joni Mitchell's song "Magdalene Laundries" from her album Turbulent Indigo, along with many other biblical references, alludes to Jezebel.
Sarah Jane Ferridge, a.k.a Sarah Jezebel Deva is an English singer who has collaborated with bands like Cradle of Filth and Mortiis.
My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, a 1981 album by Brian Eno and David Byrne, features a track called The Jezebel Spirit, which contains a sample of Jezebel being mentioned during an exorcism performed by a preacher.
In the 1997 Jim Carrey movie Liar Liar, Carrey and co-star Swoosie Kurtz are involved in a courtroom argument that degenerates into name-calling. The dialogue in the released version of the film begins with Kurtz objecting to one of Carrey's character's points, Carrey saying "You would," Kurtz calling him "Bastard," with Carrey finally calling Kurtz "Hag" before Jason Bernard's "Judge Stevens" harshly reprimands them both. In the gag reel on the DVD, Kurtz continues with "Overactor" before Bernard has a chance to begin his dialogue, to which Carrey responds "Jezebel" as the film crew break down in laughter.
In the Jennifer Lopez romantic comedy, The Wedding Planner, drunk Lopez's character mumbles that "Jezebel is the only queen in the Bible to be eaten by dogs."
KMFDM has a song entitled "Juke Joint Jezebel" on their 1995 album Nihil, written by collaborator Raymond Watts, which is considered by many to be their most popular song.
WWE commentator Jim Ross refers to the heel divas as "Jezebels" quite frequently.
The German singer/songwriter Alexander Veljanov has recorded a song Jezebel on his 1998 Album 'Secrets of the Silver Tongue'
The hard rock band He Is Legend refers to Jezebel in the lyrics of their song The Seduction which was released on the album I Am Hollywood, released in 2004.
In 1996, Elenor Brown composed the poem "Jezebel and the Eunuchs." [1]
The Hip-Hop group Outkast have a song off the album 'ATLiens' called 'Jazzy Belle', a take on the name that explores similar themes to the biblical Jezebel.
From Lauryn Hill's 1998 rap hit Doo Wop (That Thing): "Now that was the sin that did Jezebel in / Who you gonna call when the repercussions spin?"
In Margret Atwood's novel The Handmaid's Tale, the chapter where Offred talks to her best friend Moira, a escaped handmaid transformed to a whore, for the final time is entitled "Jezebel."
In the 2005 movie musical Reefer Madness, Mary Lane refers to herself as "a pubescent addition to Jezebel" in the song "Murder".
The Smothers Brothers recorded a humorous version of Jezebel.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Jezebel
Jezebel was the daughter of Ethbaal, king of the Zidonians or Tyre and Sidon. King Ahab of Israel, the son of Omri, did evil in the sight of the Lord, took Jezebel in marriage and went and served Baal. Ahab coveted the vineyard of Naboth and when he could not obtain it, Jezebel slandered Naboth, he was stoned and the vineyard given to Ahab. The wife of Ahab had introduced the abominations of Astarte worship into Israel. Jezebel slew the prophets of the Lord, hiding others in a cave with bread and water. Jezebel is referred to as the corrupt woman, the mother of harlots and abominations of the earth. She led her husband into the same idolatry and fed the prophets of Baal at her own table.
Jezebel is mentioned as the licentious false prophet of the Thyatira Church of the seven churches of Revelation. The church at Thyatira seems to fulfill the age of the Western Church from the dark ages unto the present time when their last works are more than the first. The nicolaitan idea of fleshly leadership in the church typified Rome and continued with the Protestants with the separation of clergy and laity. The denial of the sacramental quality of marriage leads the church into fornication and the false authority leads the church into confusion and false prophecy.
What Jesus had against the church of Thyatira was that "You suffer that woman Jezebel, which calls herself a prophetess, to teach and to seduce my servants to commit fornication and to eat things sacrificed unto idols. And I gave her space to repent of her fornication and she repented not. Behold, I will cast her into a bed, and them that commit adultery with her into great tribulation, except they repent of their deeds."
Jezebel is a figurative and spiritual name for us. The Thyratiran church continues to this day and the Jezebel spirit manifests herself in the church and reaches to the highest pinnacles of government. The prophecy of the tribulation is in these last days and includes the greater part of Christendom that has allowed idolatry and the Jezebel spirit to flourish in the church and subsequently into all areas of society. Without an attitude of holiness, grace turns into licentiousness.
Jezebel is a whore and a witch whose spirit endures in the church by taking over the vineyard of the Lord. She covers her face with make-up to appear more attractive. Finally, Jezebel was a woman eventually destroyed by the very government she herself corrupted. The word of God came to Elijah and called him to show himself to Ahab and it would rain. The prophet came out of nowhere, stirred the righteous hearts, and the priests of Baal were put to death by the people. It was not Elijah alone but Jehu the anointed King over Israel that sought out the prophets of Baal and slew them, avenging the blood of the prophets. It was this king that dealt Jezebel the death blow by having her thrown down from the wall. In the end, Jehu did not follow the laws of the Lord with all His heart but it shall not be so with us. You are under the law of love and are among the overcomers, if in fact you are among the remnant. We may not be the Elijah to come or even a prophet but under our heritage, we are kings and priests. It is up to the church to become the spotless Bride in these last days and cast out the false prophets, we have the right and the power, we need but have the resolve to appropriate this power as the chosen remnant.
In Thyatira, the Jezebel spirit was and is introducing these same vile practices into the Christian church. By attaching herself to the Christians and manipulating them, she is insisting on the right to teach and practice licentious indulgence and claiming inspiration for her teaching. Those in the church that despise prophecy and forbid the true prophets to speak are under the influence of the Jezebel spirit. They may not have actually killed the prophets but by not allowing God's free operation to speak through His ministers, they kill the spirit that speaks through Him, thereby introducing the confusion of Babylon and the false teaching and doctrines of demons that identify a divided church. Among an apostate church, true prophets are hidden and not allowed to feast upon the richness of spiritual meat. Those under her influence will despise true prophecy, entertain the false prophets and attack those with true spiritual authority. Not all Thyatira pastors accept this teaching and this stinging rebuke is not for those that have not reached into Jezebel's satanic depth. Judgment is given according to the works of those under the Jezebel spirit, the words against them are delivered from One "with eyes like fire and feet like brass." Without repentance, these sins and the accompanying worldliness and schismatic confusion will cause tribulation and the death of the children who commit adultery with her.
Different demons have different names. The Jezebel demon spirit entices God's servant to fornication and adultery. Attitudes are contrived to try to cover the sin and the true prophetic spirit of conviction is allowed to be cast out. The sin of fornication includes any sexual act outside of marriage, male and female, to one partner and in the New Testament, it is the sin with the most singular condemnation but we must realize here that there are prophecies concerning the church committing fornication with the kings of the earth. Jesus is wedded to the church. When Jesus condemns those that have committed adultery with Jezebel, He is referring to the church and worldliness, not necessarily sexual immorality. Jezebel was and is a political figure and uses spiritual control and manipulation to exert influence. Once under this delusionary spirit, she takes them captive, disguises herself as the spirit of God and allows false prophecy, idolatry and worldly practices to flourish.
Jezebel uses her controlling influence to lead God's people to worship a church system that is not led by His spirit. Instead of being the Bride of Christ, the church is turned into a harlot turning to other gods, and a harem, becoming many wives through denominational divisions. It is hard to resist once under her spell, she feels just like Jesus but it is a delusion. Those under the Jezebel spirit are given a false peace about the sin and confusion and the spirit of conviction does not take hold because they are given over to satan's deception for the destruction of the flesh. She will even counterfeit the Holy Spirit feeling of holiness in the heart. Jezebel is the spirit of modern day Babylon and we are told to flee from her.
Jezebel is not gender specific. She is a type that shows up in todays relationship with the church to the world and the relationship with church authority and the congregation. When Jezebel painted her face to make herself more attractive it suggests a type of evil that is all made up to look attractive to those that are under her spell. The Jezebel spirit is a type of delusion that is given to the church so that they might not recognize the influence. If you understand the hypocrisy and worldliness of the political Christian right and their pretense of proper Christian truth, you have an idea how far this has gone. This is much more of a balanced approach to the world situation today and what Elijah would be fighting against than merely a women doing anything in authority over a man or any person usurping authority in the church.
There is a movement today that looks like it is coming against pastors in the church but this impression is only half right. Pastors are needed in the church and are a proper part of the ministry and there are many that have not bent the knee to Baal but more and more, we are learning about the Jezebel spirit in the church and that it applies to many pastors and teachers. The Elijah spirit that comes against the spirit of Jezebel is prophetic and those pastors that will not submit to the prophetic voice in the congregation are starting to feel the heat. There are pastors and Christian leaders that use control and manipulation to bring forth their own special interests and pet denominational doctrines. Some of those pastors are trying to turn it around and blame it on the prophets speaking out in church but these very pastors that are muzzling the prophets are exposing the Jezebel spirit to their own shame. Pastors who are hearing the insistence of apostolic mandate and treat these times as business as usual are being exposed as fools. It is true that most Christians will be taken unawares but many hear the Lord.
Jezebel is a hot prophetic topic right now, the Lord is exposing these people as false teachers and it includes so-called apostles and evangelists. Your pastor may accept the prophetic but it is time to come against the Jezebel spirit in the church and prophets called to do it will be sent to them. If your pastor falls into that category, then it will be to his loss but it is not for us to judge. There are pastors who have not fallen prey to the delusions of Jezebel and they are standing along side of these truths. We must come to the irrefutable conclusion that as the remnant, we should not be subject to this power. The Elijah spirit that is taking on the Jezebel spirit is coming forth with another power, that of the "Spirit saith the Lord" kind of power that will knock Jezebel out of her exalted perch and bring her down to the level that she is destined to fall into, along with Babylon.
It is the Jezebel spirit that has seduced our present generation to commit fornication, whether sexual or political, to deny the prophets and has allowed the spirit in the mainstream, justifying it according to the mores of the times. Those under her spell think it is overlooked by God. We need to pray for these ones that the Jezebel spirit is overcome so that they will see the truth. There are loved ones involved that need to be restored, churches that need the prophetic truth, there are millions right around you just waiting to hear this truth and submit themselves to true spiritual authority so that they may be delivered. Now you know, the trumpet is at your lips, sound the alarm. [294, I Kings 16, 19, 21, II Kings 9, 10, Revelation 2, 298, 378, 398, 338, Jezebel was a topic of the latter rain list end-time discussions]
Jezebel is mentioned as the licentious false prophet of the Thyatira Church of the seven churches of Revelation. The church at Thyatira seems to fulfill the age of the Western Church from the dark ages unto the present time when their last works are more than the first. The nicolaitan idea of fleshly leadership in the church typified Rome and continued with the Protestants with the separation of clergy and laity. The denial of the sacramental quality of marriage leads the church into fornication and the false authority leads the church into confusion and false prophecy.
What Jesus had against the church of Thyatira was that "You suffer that woman Jezebel, which calls herself a prophetess, to teach and to seduce my servants to commit fornication and to eat things sacrificed unto idols. And I gave her space to repent of her fornication and she repented not. Behold, I will cast her into a bed, and them that commit adultery with her into great tribulation, except they repent of their deeds."
Jezebel is a figurative and spiritual name for us. The Thyratiran church continues to this day and the Jezebel spirit manifests herself in the church and reaches to the highest pinnacles of government. The prophecy of the tribulation is in these last days and includes the greater part of Christendom that has allowed idolatry and the Jezebel spirit to flourish in the church and subsequently into all areas of society. Without an attitude of holiness, grace turns into licentiousness.
Jezebel is a whore and a witch whose spirit endures in the church by taking over the vineyard of the Lord. She covers her face with make-up to appear more attractive. Finally, Jezebel was a woman eventually destroyed by the very government she herself corrupted. The word of God came to Elijah and called him to show himself to Ahab and it would rain. The prophet came out of nowhere, stirred the righteous hearts, and the priests of Baal were put to death by the people. It was not Elijah alone but Jehu the anointed King over Israel that sought out the prophets of Baal and slew them, avenging the blood of the prophets. It was this king that dealt Jezebel the death blow by having her thrown down from the wall. In the end, Jehu did not follow the laws of the Lord with all His heart but it shall not be so with us. You are under the law of love and are among the overcomers, if in fact you are among the remnant. We may not be the Elijah to come or even a prophet but under our heritage, we are kings and priests. It is up to the church to become the spotless Bride in these last days and cast out the false prophets, we have the right and the power, we need but have the resolve to appropriate this power as the chosen remnant.
In Thyatira, the Jezebel spirit was and is introducing these same vile practices into the Christian church. By attaching herself to the Christians and manipulating them, she is insisting on the right to teach and practice licentious indulgence and claiming inspiration for her teaching. Those in the church that despise prophecy and forbid the true prophets to speak are under the influence of the Jezebel spirit. They may not have actually killed the prophets but by not allowing God's free operation to speak through His ministers, they kill the spirit that speaks through Him, thereby introducing the confusion of Babylon and the false teaching and doctrines of demons that identify a divided church. Among an apostate church, true prophets are hidden and not allowed to feast upon the richness of spiritual meat. Those under her influence will despise true prophecy, entertain the false prophets and attack those with true spiritual authority. Not all Thyatira pastors accept this teaching and this stinging rebuke is not for those that have not reached into Jezebel's satanic depth. Judgment is given according to the works of those under the Jezebel spirit, the words against them are delivered from One "with eyes like fire and feet like brass." Without repentance, these sins and the accompanying worldliness and schismatic confusion will cause tribulation and the death of the children who commit adultery with her.
Different demons have different names. The Jezebel demon spirit entices God's servant to fornication and adultery. Attitudes are contrived to try to cover the sin and the true prophetic spirit of conviction is allowed to be cast out. The sin of fornication includes any sexual act outside of marriage, male and female, to one partner and in the New Testament, it is the sin with the most singular condemnation but we must realize here that there are prophecies concerning the church committing fornication with the kings of the earth. Jesus is wedded to the church. When Jesus condemns those that have committed adultery with Jezebel, He is referring to the church and worldliness, not necessarily sexual immorality. Jezebel was and is a political figure and uses spiritual control and manipulation to exert influence. Once under this delusionary spirit, she takes them captive, disguises herself as the spirit of God and allows false prophecy, idolatry and worldly practices to flourish.
Jezebel uses her controlling influence to lead God's people to worship a church system that is not led by His spirit. Instead of being the Bride of Christ, the church is turned into a harlot turning to other gods, and a harem, becoming many wives through denominational divisions. It is hard to resist once under her spell, she feels just like Jesus but it is a delusion. Those under the Jezebel spirit are given a false peace about the sin and confusion and the spirit of conviction does not take hold because they are given over to satan's deception for the destruction of the flesh. She will even counterfeit the Holy Spirit feeling of holiness in the heart. Jezebel is the spirit of modern day Babylon and we are told to flee from her.
Jezebel is not gender specific. She is a type that shows up in todays relationship with the church to the world and the relationship with church authority and the congregation. When Jezebel painted her face to make herself more attractive it suggests a type of evil that is all made up to look attractive to those that are under her spell. The Jezebel spirit is a type of delusion that is given to the church so that they might not recognize the influence. If you understand the hypocrisy and worldliness of the political Christian right and their pretense of proper Christian truth, you have an idea how far this has gone. This is much more of a balanced approach to the world situation today and what Elijah would be fighting against than merely a women doing anything in authority over a man or any person usurping authority in the church.
There is a movement today that looks like it is coming against pastors in the church but this impression is only half right. Pastors are needed in the church and are a proper part of the ministry and there are many that have not bent the knee to Baal but more and more, we are learning about the Jezebel spirit in the church and that it applies to many pastors and teachers. The Elijah spirit that comes against the spirit of Jezebel is prophetic and those pastors that will not submit to the prophetic voice in the congregation are starting to feel the heat. There are pastors and Christian leaders that use control and manipulation to bring forth their own special interests and pet denominational doctrines. Some of those pastors are trying to turn it around and blame it on the prophets speaking out in church but these very pastors that are muzzling the prophets are exposing the Jezebel spirit to their own shame. Pastors who are hearing the insistence of apostolic mandate and treat these times as business as usual are being exposed as fools. It is true that most Christians will be taken unawares but many hear the Lord.
Jezebel is a hot prophetic topic right now, the Lord is exposing these people as false teachers and it includes so-called apostles and evangelists. Your pastor may accept the prophetic but it is time to come against the Jezebel spirit in the church and prophets called to do it will be sent to them. If your pastor falls into that category, then it will be to his loss but it is not for us to judge. There are pastors who have not fallen prey to the delusions of Jezebel and they are standing along side of these truths. We must come to the irrefutable conclusion that as the remnant, we should not be subject to this power. The Elijah spirit that is taking on the Jezebel spirit is coming forth with another power, that of the "Spirit saith the Lord" kind of power that will knock Jezebel out of her exalted perch and bring her down to the level that she is destined to fall into, along with Babylon.
It is the Jezebel spirit that has seduced our present generation to commit fornication, whether sexual or political, to deny the prophets and has allowed the spirit in the mainstream, justifying it according to the mores of the times. Those under her spell think it is overlooked by God. We need to pray for these ones that the Jezebel spirit is overcome so that they will see the truth. There are loved ones involved that need to be restored, churches that need the prophetic truth, there are millions right around you just waiting to hear this truth and submit themselves to true spiritual authority so that they may be delivered. Now you know, the trumpet is at your lips, sound the alarm. [294, I Kings 16, 19, 21, II Kings 9, 10, Revelation 2, 298, 378, 398, 338, Jezebel was a topic of the latter rain list end-time discussions]
The Ace of Spades Reversed
This illustration shows the reverse aspect of the ace of spades. The right way up this card stands for adundance, success and the coming to fruition of your plans. A reversed card predicts the exact opposite and can be a bit alarming when it presents itself as a picture of what is going to happen to you next. But you have to remember that as with turning seasons, sometimes things have to end for there to be a new beginning. Collapse, death and decay are followed by regeneration, growth, fruition, and harvest. Spring follows winter, autumn follows harvest, rebirth is only possible after some kind of death.
Spades seems to be the suit of darkness, despair and death. Not an unexpected theme for spades, which has historically been the suit of death. The ace signifies: "an emotional relationship that could cause trouble. Reversed: Unexpected bad news."
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
:(
Miss, this is unfair. We had to do this essay for Monday and then told we had to learn it for Wednesday but only had tonight to learn it because it was being marked :'( can we not have more time? Because I'm not gonna be able to do this well at all and it seems so rushed! Dunno about anyone else...
pleeeease?
pleeeease?
*@!#
aw for Falkirks sake Jordan leeeeeeee has thiefted my book so i cannot find any much needed quotes! hint (give me more time) hint
from Scott x
from Scott x
Monday, January 08, 2007
Grahams crucible essay
Dont hav your email address so just posted it on here
“The Crucible,” by Arthur Miller is a play which tells the true story of the hysteria of the 1692 witch trials in a small town called Salem, in Massachusetts. This essay will look at a particular episode towards the end of the play which is laced with tension. It will examine the position of this episode and also show how the tension is created.
This episode appears at the end of Act Three, when the villainous, manipulative character of Abigail Williams is in the court room with her group of friends just after John Proctor has been found guilty of having an affair with Abigail. Reverend Hale starts to tell Deputy Governor Danforth about how he thinks the girls are faking the whole thing. At this point, Abigail screams and points to the ceiling, claiming that there is a yellow bird sitting on one of the beams attempting to attack her, and that it has been sent by Mary Warren, the servant of the Proctor household. “Why do you come, yellow bird?...Oh Mary, this is a black art to change your shape.” Mary tries to stop her, “Abby you mustn’t,” but Abigail just repeats everything that Mary says. The group of girls quickly catch on to Abigail’s plan, and join in mimicking Mary, showing the reader just how much power Abigail has over them.
The girls flee from the yellow bird out of the court room, which eventually forces Mary to give in. She runs to them and is comforted by Abigail. John Proctor tries again to persuade the court officials that the girls are pretending, but his plans are thwarted when Mary turns on John Proctor, crying out, “You’re the Devil’s man! I’ll not hang with you! I love God, I love God.” This again shows just how manipulative Abigail is. She is able to change Mary completely to turn against her master, and have him hanged by accusing him of witchcraft. Reverend Hale sees that Proctor will be hanged for this and jumps in, shouting, “Excellency, this child’s gone wild!”
As the girls flee from the courtroom, a real sense of chaos and hysteria is created, and this can be seen from the stage directions. “She and the girls run to one wall, shielding their eyes. And now, as though cornered, they let out a gigantic scream, and Mary, as though infected opens her mouth and screams with them.” The image of all these girls screaming and fleeing from a bird which is attacking them is a very strong one, and adds to the idea of the town being in complete chaos.
After these claims from Mary, John Proctor does not try and protest his innocence, but instead he continues to attack the court, at the same time condemning himself, by crying, “I say – I say – God is dead!” When he says this, he speaks metaphorically, lamenting a world in which a villain such as Abigail may preside over the ostensibly just and moral society of Salem. “You are pulling down heaven and raising up a whore!” These are John’s final words of Act Three, and the reader gets the impression here that he has realised that the court will not listen to him, no matter how much evidence he produces. This is his final attack on Abigail and the court. These two quotes from Proctor are very strong and add to the tension greatly as they show how much damage Abigail has brought to Salem. The town was very religious, but now heaven is being “pulled down,” by these allegations of witchcraft.
Miller is able to create so much tension in this episode by presenting a drastic change in character of both Mary Warren and John Proctor. Mary has changed from being an accused person to being an accuser within a matter of minutes. Mary also started to come across as a more powerful character after she was made an official of the court, saying to her master, “I am an official of the court now…I’ll not stand whipping any more!” However, in this episode, she loses all her new found confidence and gives in to the girls.
John started out as a very calm person, but as the trials unfold, more and more pressure is placed upon him and he eventually cracks when he claims that God is dead in the town of Salem. To say such a thing in a Puritan town such as Salem led him to his inevitable death.
Another aspect which adds to the tension is the fact that this episode shows some of the characters who once held power losing control. One of these is Mary, who seemed to be building up her confidence but then lost it all when the girls accused her of sending her spirit to attack them. We also get the impression that Danforth, who started out as a very strong character who knew what he was doing, now doubts his own actions, but carries on in the same way as he doesn’t want to admit this. He carries on as thought he is convinced he is correct. “While I speak God’s law, I will not crack its voice with whimpering.” Through him, Miller demonstrates what happens when the state assumes absolute moral authority to direct the lives and beliefs of its citizens. He knows that he must purge the town, but this overrides legal quibbles about evidence or court proceedings. He cannot understand that even if God’s law is infallible, its interpreters are not.
Miller has succeeded in making this scene very tense for the reader by presenting some significant changes in a few of the main characters, and also by some of the quotes from these characters. The episode comes at the part in the play where the chaos and hysteria in the town of Salem is at its peak, so this also adds to the tension.
“The Crucible,” by Arthur Miller is a play which tells the true story of the hysteria of the 1692 witch trials in a small town called Salem, in Massachusetts. This essay will look at a particular episode towards the end of the play which is laced with tension. It will examine the position of this episode and also show how the tension is created.
This episode appears at the end of Act Three, when the villainous, manipulative character of Abigail Williams is in the court room with her group of friends just after John Proctor has been found guilty of having an affair with Abigail. Reverend Hale starts to tell Deputy Governor Danforth about how he thinks the girls are faking the whole thing. At this point, Abigail screams and points to the ceiling, claiming that there is a yellow bird sitting on one of the beams attempting to attack her, and that it has been sent by Mary Warren, the servant of the Proctor household. “Why do you come, yellow bird?...Oh Mary, this is a black art to change your shape.” Mary tries to stop her, “Abby you mustn’t,” but Abigail just repeats everything that Mary says. The group of girls quickly catch on to Abigail’s plan, and join in mimicking Mary, showing the reader just how much power Abigail has over them.
The girls flee from the yellow bird out of the court room, which eventually forces Mary to give in. She runs to them and is comforted by Abigail. John Proctor tries again to persuade the court officials that the girls are pretending, but his plans are thwarted when Mary turns on John Proctor, crying out, “You’re the Devil’s man! I’ll not hang with you! I love God, I love God.” This again shows just how manipulative Abigail is. She is able to change Mary completely to turn against her master, and have him hanged by accusing him of witchcraft. Reverend Hale sees that Proctor will be hanged for this and jumps in, shouting, “Excellency, this child’s gone wild!”
As the girls flee from the courtroom, a real sense of chaos and hysteria is created, and this can be seen from the stage directions. “She and the girls run to one wall, shielding their eyes. And now, as though cornered, they let out a gigantic scream, and Mary, as though infected opens her mouth and screams with them.” The image of all these girls screaming and fleeing from a bird which is attacking them is a very strong one, and adds to the idea of the town being in complete chaos.
After these claims from Mary, John Proctor does not try and protest his innocence, but instead he continues to attack the court, at the same time condemning himself, by crying, “I say – I say – God is dead!” When he says this, he speaks metaphorically, lamenting a world in which a villain such as Abigail may preside over the ostensibly just and moral society of Salem. “You are pulling down heaven and raising up a whore!” These are John’s final words of Act Three, and the reader gets the impression here that he has realised that the court will not listen to him, no matter how much evidence he produces. This is his final attack on Abigail and the court. These two quotes from Proctor are very strong and add to the tension greatly as they show how much damage Abigail has brought to Salem. The town was very religious, but now heaven is being “pulled down,” by these allegations of witchcraft.
Miller is able to create so much tension in this episode by presenting a drastic change in character of both Mary Warren and John Proctor. Mary has changed from being an accused person to being an accuser within a matter of minutes. Mary also started to come across as a more powerful character after she was made an official of the court, saying to her master, “I am an official of the court now…I’ll not stand whipping any more!” However, in this episode, she loses all her new found confidence and gives in to the girls.
John started out as a very calm person, but as the trials unfold, more and more pressure is placed upon him and he eventually cracks when he claims that God is dead in the town of Salem. To say such a thing in a Puritan town such as Salem led him to his inevitable death.
Another aspect which adds to the tension is the fact that this episode shows some of the characters who once held power losing control. One of these is Mary, who seemed to be building up her confidence but then lost it all when the girls accused her of sending her spirit to attack them. We also get the impression that Danforth, who started out as a very strong character who knew what he was doing, now doubts his own actions, but carries on in the same way as he doesn’t want to admit this. He carries on as thought he is convinced he is correct. “While I speak God’s law, I will not crack its voice with whimpering.” Through him, Miller demonstrates what happens when the state assumes absolute moral authority to direct the lives and beliefs of its citizens. He knows that he must purge the town, but this overrides legal quibbles about evidence or court proceedings. He cannot understand that even if God’s law is infallible, its interpreters are not.
Miller has succeeded in making this scene very tense for the reader by presenting some significant changes in a few of the main characters, and also by some of the quotes from these characters. The episode comes at the part in the play where the chaos and hysteria in the town of Salem is at its peak, so this also adds to the tension.
YAHOOOOO-NESS
Have not sent it yet.... (its 5.49pm)
but i will be sending it to you in a bit am just putin the quotes in so will u pleeeeaaassseeee check your yahoo account lol xxx
but i will be sending it to you in a bit am just putin the quotes in so will u pleeeeaaassseeee check your yahoo account lol xxx
Sunday, January 07, 2007
Minging x
this is disgusting, im trying to do this essay.. how can i start it? : maybe i should have done it earlier, i cant do it, my spacebar is not working right, you have to push it alot to make it work and its annoying.. Grrrr
Just A Little Something...
Hey peeps...
Been trying to do this essay HA have lost the book... : WOOT.
But found this site which has got lotsa helpful stuff on it like useful quotations and character studies and stuff so here's the link..
http://www.sparknotes.com/lit/crucible/index.html
Xxx
p.s Btw, Miss, did you not tell us we had a week when we came back to do this essay as well :S cuz i remember you saying sumthing like that and me being like... U mean we have an extra week?? Cuz in ur post it sez it's for tomoro but... i thought u had given us till next monday :S..
Am doing it now anyways but if we do have an extra week would really appreciate it lol xxx
p.p.s I'm not trying to be a chancer or be funny lol... i reeli do think i remember questioning the fact tht we wood still have a week after the hols... ? lol x
Been trying to do this essay HA have lost the book... : WOOT.
But found this site which has got lotsa helpful stuff on it like useful quotations and character studies and stuff so here's the link..
http://www.sparknotes.com/lit/crucible/index.html
Xxx
p.s Btw, Miss, did you not tell us we had a week when we came back to do this essay as well :S cuz i remember you saying sumthing like that and me being like... U mean we have an extra week?? Cuz in ur post it sez it's for tomoro but... i thought u had given us till next monday :S..
Am doing it now anyways but if we do have an extra week would really appreciate it lol xxx
p.p.s I'm not trying to be a chancer or be funny lol... i reeli do think i remember questioning the fact tht we wood still have a week after the hols... ? lol x
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Happy New Year
Happy New Year, folks. I hope you all celebrated the beginning of a new chapter in style. We now have only 5 months before the final exam. The countdown is on. I hope lots of you have made the resolution to study harder both in and out of the classroom this term. We really are running out of time. You have been warned!!!!
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Merry Christmas
Have a great Christmas holiday, folks. See you in the New Year, when I can impart more words of wisdom for you guys!!!
Love Ms. Moore
Love Ms. Moore
Friday, December 15, 2006
The Crucible Practice Essays
These are your essay questions for the practice essay. Remember, you are only writing one!! The dealine for this is Monday 8th January. If you are clever you will do it now and not have to worry about it over the holidays. However, I know you all and they will probably all be scraped together on the 7th!!!
1. From "The Crucible" by Arthur Miller, choose one scene or episode which you consider to be laced with tension. Briefly examine the positioning of the scene or episode in the play and then show how the tension is created.
2. Arthur Miller's "The Crucible" is a play based on the theme of truth and justice. Choose a character from the play who is either seeking the truth, avoiding the truth or hiding the truth. Explain to what extent the character achieves their aim and discuss how the dramatist uses the situation to reveal important aspects of the character's role in the play as a whole.
3. "The Crucible" is a play whose main theme concerns are power, corruption and hypocracy. Choose one of these themes and explain how it is introduced by Miller. Also discuss to what extent you found the way it is explored in the play helped to enhance your understanding of this particular theme.
1. From "The Crucible" by Arthur Miller, choose one scene or episode which you consider to be laced with tension. Briefly examine the positioning of the scene or episode in the play and then show how the tension is created.
2. Arthur Miller's "The Crucible" is a play based on the theme of truth and justice. Choose a character from the play who is either seeking the truth, avoiding the truth or hiding the truth. Explain to what extent the character achieves their aim and discuss how the dramatist uses the situation to reveal important aspects of the character's role in the play as a whole.
3. "The Crucible" is a play whose main theme concerns are power, corruption and hypocracy. Choose one of these themes and explain how it is introduced by Miller. Also discuss to what extent you found the way it is explored in the play helped to enhance your understanding of this particular theme.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Kirsten's creative writing
1/12/06 Creative Writing Task Kirsten McGill
Drip,
Drip,
Drip,
Drip,
The tap water of the bath mimics the tears falling from my own eyes. I am sitting in the cold, white of my bathroom in the tub, water all around me. I have been bathing at least an hour and yet I still feel unclean. I am scared, scared of what I must do, what might happen, what my Mum may say. It's a crippling prosppect; the unknown.
I clamber out of the bath, I am shivering now although I no longer feel cold. I take it out of the box, sit on the toilet, follow the instructions and wait.... Each second feels like a lifetime. My body is numb with fear. When the time comes to check I panic, maybe if I don't look it won't happen it'll all go away I'll be fine I'll just carry on living, going to school, having fun. I don't need to know. But I do.
I turn over the test and there in blue reads the word that will destroy my life:
I'm not sure how long I've been standing here, naked and cold. One hour, two, maybe only a couple of minutes time has stood still, abandoned me. I am alone.
How could this happen? I am seventeen years old and I've only ever been with one guy, it was a mistake, everyone was "doing it" I just wondered what the fuss was about and so at a party. A few vodka's in me I left with some guy. I don't even remember his name. I felt so cheap, dirty. It wasn't a great experience, not even a good one. It hurt, it wasn't caring, nothing like all that crap on the movies.
I cried and I regretted it, I lost my innocence to some passing stranger. As full of regret as I was I put it behind me, vowed I would never again be used 'so' cheaply and yet here I am now crying into a towel and trying to weigh up my options: As I see it I only have two:
1) Have an abortion, continue school and pursuing my dream of becoming a doctor.
2) Have the baby and become a single mother at eighteen years old, leave school to care for baby, never become a doctor.
I can't believe that in the last few hours my life has changed forever and as selfish as it is, I can't help but think what people will think of me. Will they snigger at me in the street? Will they pity me? Will mothers use me to deter their children from having sex, "You don't want to end up like her, do you?" What will my mother think? Her only child, her straight-A, studious and well-behaved daughter having sex with a unknown boy and falling pregnant. I feel like it will kill her or that she will kill me.
For as long as I remember, becoming a doctor is all I have ever wanted. I used to dress up in the wee outfits Mum would buy me for Christmas and write prescriptins for everyone.
Now I might lose my dream. I can't have a baby I cant afford a baby: nappies, dummies, food, a pram they cry a lot I don't know how to look after a baby I'm a child I can't have a baby I can't, can I? but then an abortion I can't just destroy this feotus have it removed from me. What kind of person does that make me? Am I a murderer ?
What am I going to do?
I inhale deeply, wrap the towel around my body and pull a robe over my cold shoulders, I must face my Mum. I feel there is nothing she can say to worsten this situation and so I descend the stairs. I feel as though I am walking into hell itself.
I must go in to the kitchen and rationally explain. I'll tell her how it happened: when, where, why and how I am sorry, I'm so so sorry for ruining everything. I have to stay calm.
I open the kitchen door and sitting at the table reading a paper, with a cup of coffee is my Mum. As I walk to the table, I crumble. Tears cascade down my face, my body involuntarily shakes, I sob and words fall out of my mouth. I cannot stop I feel as like a volcano with all my emotions erupting out of me. When words finally fail me and I can no longer speak for the sobbing, I look to my Mum's face and watch as one single tear tumbles down her cheek and splatters onto her newspaper. I bow my head in shame, I have reduced the person in the world I love most to tears, as I realise I will NEVER forgive myself. My Mum comes to me and quietly whispers, "I love you, we will get through this." As she rocks me gently ,as she did when I was kid, I inhale and take in her scent. The smell of comfort, of love and just for a moment, I truly believe it might be okay.
When I woke up this morning, for a moment I totally forgot. I don't remember the anguish I have caused or the pain I have endured and yet as I awaken, the events of the night before hits me like a double decker bus.
It is Monday, Mum has left for work, there is a note by bed.
Darling'
I am sorry I couldn't be with you today, you know I
would if I could. I love you and whatever you decide I will be
here for you. I have booked an appointment for you with Dr.
Carr today at 11:10am, so you can get some advice. we will
be OK, honey.I love you so much and I am sorry that this is
such a difficult time for you. See you tonight. All my love,
Mum xxxxxxxxxx
Dr Carr's office strikes me as impersonal and empty. The walls are white with various posters on healthy eating and common ailments. She is a thin woman with flowing, curly, red hair neatly pinned back in a clip. She is wearing her white coat and stethoscope around her neck. I can't help but wonder if she is judging me.
Dr Carr: I know this must be hard for you but you must make a decision as soon as posible about whether or not you wish to terminate this pregnancy.
(I remain silent, my eyes sting with tears.)
Dr carr: Tell me your thoughts, what is your heart telling you to do?
Me: I don't want to have this baby, I am not ready, I can't look after a child I'm scared if I have a baby i'll never become a doctor I won't be able to finance a child. (I pause before I say the thing that scares me most) I don't want my baby to grow up not knowing its father.... like I did. I sob and i feel embarassed for revealling this to the unknown woman and yet she seems kind, unjudging and caring. I trust her.
Dr Carr: I am going to refer you to the hospital where you will receive counselling to help you get over this, you will be scanned to ensure your dates are correct and that you are in the earliest stages of pregnancy. You will be given time to think about this and although you may not believe it now, you will be okay.
* * * *
I am lying in my bed thinking how irresponsible I have been and about the decision I have made to end this pregnancy. I cannot raise a child I am not ready to be a mother. I have dreams and ambitions I must fulfill although I know that aborting is the right decision for me I am also aware that every day I must live with myself for denying life. The very opposite of what I wish to dedicate my life to but I don't wish to end my own by having a baby that I cannot care for entirely. As I close my eyes I finally start to believe that somewhere in the future, it really will be OK.
Drip,
Drip,
Drip,
Drip,
The tap water of the bath mimics the tears falling from my own eyes. I am sitting in the cold, white of my bathroom in the tub, water all around me. I have been bathing at least an hour and yet I still feel unclean. I am scared, scared of what I must do, what might happen, what my Mum may say. It's a crippling prosppect; the unknown.
I clamber out of the bath, I am shivering now although I no longer feel cold. I take it out of the box, sit on the toilet, follow the instructions and wait.... Each second feels like a lifetime. My body is numb with fear. When the time comes to check I panic, maybe if I don't look it won't happen it'll all go away I'll be fine I'll just carry on living, going to school, having fun. I don't need to know. But I do.
I turn over the test and there in blue reads the word that will destroy my life:
I'm not sure how long I've been standing here, naked and cold. One hour, two, maybe only a couple of minutes time has stood still, abandoned me. I am alone.
How could this happen? I am seventeen years old and I've only ever been with one guy, it was a mistake, everyone was "doing it" I just wondered what the fuss was about and so at a party. A few vodka's in me I left with some guy. I don't even remember his name. I felt so cheap, dirty. It wasn't a great experience, not even a good one. It hurt, it wasn't caring, nothing like all that crap on the movies.
I cried and I regretted it, I lost my innocence to some passing stranger. As full of regret as I was I put it behind me, vowed I would never again be used 'so' cheaply and yet here I am now crying into a towel and trying to weigh up my options: As I see it I only have two:
1) Have an abortion, continue school and pursuing my dream of becoming a doctor.
2) Have the baby and become a single mother at eighteen years old, leave school to care for baby, never become a doctor.
I can't believe that in the last few hours my life has changed forever and as selfish as it is, I can't help but think what people will think of me. Will they snigger at me in the street? Will they pity me? Will mothers use me to deter their children from having sex, "You don't want to end up like her, do you?" What will my mother think? Her only child, her straight-A, studious and well-behaved daughter having sex with a unknown boy and falling pregnant. I feel like it will kill her or that she will kill me.
For as long as I remember, becoming a doctor is all I have ever wanted. I used to dress up in the wee outfits Mum would buy me for Christmas and write prescriptins for everyone.
Now I might lose my dream. I can't have a baby I cant afford a baby: nappies, dummies, food, a pram they cry a lot I don't know how to look after a baby I'm a child I can't have a baby I can't, can I? but then an abortion I can't just destroy this feotus have it removed from me. What kind of person does that make me? Am I a murderer ?
What am I going to do?
I inhale deeply, wrap the towel around my body and pull a robe over my cold shoulders, I must face my Mum. I feel there is nothing she can say to worsten this situation and so I descend the stairs. I feel as though I am walking into hell itself.
I must go in to the kitchen and rationally explain. I'll tell her how it happened: when, where, why and how I am sorry, I'm so so sorry for ruining everything. I have to stay calm.
I open the kitchen door and sitting at the table reading a paper, with a cup of coffee is my Mum. As I walk to the table, I crumble. Tears cascade down my face, my body involuntarily shakes, I sob and words fall out of my mouth. I cannot stop I feel as like a volcano with all my emotions erupting out of me. When words finally fail me and I can no longer speak for the sobbing, I look to my Mum's face and watch as one single tear tumbles down her cheek and splatters onto her newspaper. I bow my head in shame, I have reduced the person in the world I love most to tears, as I realise I will NEVER forgive myself. My Mum comes to me and quietly whispers, "I love you, we will get through this." As she rocks me gently ,as she did when I was kid, I inhale and take in her scent. The smell of comfort, of love and just for a moment, I truly believe it might be okay.
When I woke up this morning, for a moment I totally forgot. I don't remember the anguish I have caused or the pain I have endured and yet as I awaken, the events of the night before hits me like a double decker bus.
It is Monday, Mum has left for work, there is a note by bed.
Darling'
I am sorry I couldn't be with you today, you know I
would if I could. I love you and whatever you decide I will be
here for you. I have booked an appointment for you with Dr.
Carr today at 11:10am, so you can get some advice. we will
be OK, honey.I love you so much and I am sorry that this is
such a difficult time for you. See you tonight. All my love,
Mum xxxxxxxxxx
Dr Carr's office strikes me as impersonal and empty. The walls are white with various posters on healthy eating and common ailments. She is a thin woman with flowing, curly, red hair neatly pinned back in a clip. She is wearing her white coat and stethoscope around her neck. I can't help but wonder if she is judging me.
Dr Carr: I know this must be hard for you but you must make a decision as soon as posible about whether or not you wish to terminate this pregnancy.
(I remain silent, my eyes sting with tears.)
Dr carr: Tell me your thoughts, what is your heart telling you to do?
Me: I don't want to have this baby, I am not ready, I can't look after a child I'm scared if I have a baby i'll never become a doctor I won't be able to finance a child. (I pause before I say the thing that scares me most) I don't want my baby to grow up not knowing its father.... like I did. I sob and i feel embarassed for revealling this to the unknown woman and yet she seems kind, unjudging and caring. I trust her.
Dr Carr: I am going to refer you to the hospital where you will receive counselling to help you get over this, you will be scanned to ensure your dates are correct and that you are in the earliest stages of pregnancy. You will be given time to think about this and although you may not believe it now, you will be okay.
* * * *
I am lying in my bed thinking how irresponsible I have been and about the decision I have made to end this pregnancy. I cannot raise a child I am not ready to be a mother. I have dreams and ambitions I must fulfill although I know that aborting is the right decision for me I am also aware that every day I must live with myself for denying life. The very opposite of what I wish to dedicate my life to but I don't wish to end my own by having a baby that I cannot care for entirely. As I close my eyes I finally start to believe that somewhere in the future, it really will be OK.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Iona's Creative!
That accent. I can still hear it echoing in my head, rattling off my brain like an extra bouncy ball that’s just been launched. That accent that’s so different from my own. I can’t get my head around it. It just won’t. Go. AWAY. Everytime I look back to that night, well what I can remember of it, I hear his voice and I cringe, shutting my eyes as hard as I can, as if that’s going to make it go away.
I am SO DRUNK. I can barely see his face as he kisses me once, twice, three times. I can feel his warm breath gently washing over my face. It tickles slightly. Before I know it we’re lying on the cold, hard, tiled floor. Is he just using me? Maybe. Do I care? Maybe not. It’s all over before I know it. “See you around. This was fun. I better go.”
It is still pretty much of a blur. Even now I look back and my stomach twists uneasily into a knot. I’m not really sure how I feel. Happy? DIS. Pleased? GUS. Contented? TED.
Maybe I should just get over it. It’s been six weeks for Christ sake. I mean all I know….six?.....is that his name is Dave and he’s from…..weeks?......Essex. SIX WEEKS? No way. I’m over reacting. He used a condom. Did he? I can’t remember.
I
Can’t
Be
Pregnant.
Why do doctors always do this. Make you wait for an answer. He’s judging me, I can see it in his eyes. He thinks I’m just another girl whose ambition in life is to be a young mum.
Doctor: Well, we have your test results back.
Stupid teenager: And?
Doctor: You’re pregnant. The test came back positive.
That last word echoes in my mind. I sit dazed as he recites my “options” “…..not easy………………….abortion…………………….adoption………………right for you………….” I’m not really paying attention, just staring at the floor, having visions of what I’ve got in store for the next 8 months or so. A continuos cycle of feeding and nappy changing. The thought of it numbs my brain.
He hands me leaflets as I saunter out of the door, still not really with it. My mum is going to KILL ME.
It’s my decision. All mine. It’s not as If I could contact the baby’s dad even if I wanted to. I can hear it again. The accent that once more brings a rush of red embarrassment to my cheeks. I can’t believe I was such an idiot. I never in…….idiot…….a million years……..idiot…….thought I would………..idiot……end up in this situation.
Giving up my life for a night I can’t even remember? WHAT THE FUCK. was I thinking? WHAT THE FUCK. was I doing? What the fuck was the point?
I am SO DRUNK. I can barely see his face as he kisses me once, twice, three times. I can feel his warm breath gently washing over my face. It tickles slightly. Before I know it we’re lying on the cold, hard, tiled floor. Is he just using me? Maybe. Do I care? Maybe not. It’s all over before I know it. “See you around. This was fun. I better go.”
It is still pretty much of a blur. Even now I look back and my stomach twists uneasily into a knot. I’m not really sure how I feel. Happy? DIS. Pleased? GUS. Contented? TED.
Maybe I should just get over it. It’s been six weeks for Christ sake. I mean all I know….six?.....is that his name is Dave and he’s from…..weeks?......Essex. SIX WEEKS? No way. I’m over reacting. He used a condom. Did he? I can’t remember.
I
Can’t
Be
Pregnant.
Why do doctors always do this. Make you wait for an answer. He’s judging me, I can see it in his eyes. He thinks I’m just another girl whose ambition in life is to be a young mum.
Doctor: Well, we have your test results back.
Stupid teenager: And?
Doctor: You’re pregnant. The test came back positive.
That last word echoes in my mind. I sit dazed as he recites my “options” “…..not easy………………….abortion…………………….adoption………………right for you………….” I’m not really paying attention, just staring at the floor, having visions of what I’ve got in store for the next 8 months or so. A continuos cycle of feeding and nappy changing. The thought of it numbs my brain.
He hands me leaflets as I saunter out of the door, still not really with it. My mum is going to KILL ME.
It’s my decision. All mine. It’s not as If I could contact the baby’s dad even if I wanted to. I can hear it again. The accent that once more brings a rush of red embarrassment to my cheeks. I can’t believe I was such an idiot. I never in…….idiot…….a million years……..idiot…….thought I would………..idiot……end up in this situation.
Giving up my life for a night I can’t even remember? WHAT THE FUCK. was I thinking? WHAT THE FUCK. was I doing? What the fuck was the point?
Monday, December 04, 2006
Becca Dee, Finally Got It On!
Higher Creative Writing.
Rebecca Davidson 5S3.
Task: Using a stream of consciousness narrative (in the style of Janice Galloway) write a short story to describe a woman who has ended up pregnant after a one night stand. You should consider her shock at this discovery, the options that would open to her whether she actually knows the father etc.
OH what have I done?
MY what have I done?
GOD.
Vomit is in my throat. His hand is stroking my stomach, my naked stomach...
Christ, my Dad! My Mum! The parents of the slut who slept with her maths teacher? They wouldn't even want to know me anymore, their stupid, stupid 15 year-old.
Can't we just leave it? I can forget all this. I won't tell anyone. It could be our secret, please. I don't expect anything from you, this never happened. Just teach me Pythagorus theorem again.
Slut: ''I best be going home.'' I never want to re-live this again.
I am covered in invisible dirt. Sitting alone on the cold, tartan printed chair of the number 26 bus. Christ even a stranger probably wouldn't sit next to me. I can still feel him. He is safely a mile or to away from me, lying like some fake royalty on his king sized bed, a dent to his left where I had lay merely two hours ago.
AND YET I CAN STILL FEEL HIM.
Rebecca Davidson 5S3.
Task: Using a stream of consciousness narrative (in the style of Janice Galloway) write a short story to describe a woman who has ended up pregnant after a one night stand. You should consider her shock at this discovery, the options that would open to her whether she actually knows the father etc.
OH what have I done?
MY what have I done?
GOD.
Vomit is in my throat. His hand is stroking my stomach, my naked stomach...
Loved? No.
Taken advantage of? Maybe.
Used? Definitely.
Taken advantage of? Maybe.
Used? Definitely.
30 years. 30 flaming years are between us. I mean, he grew up in a time, that I have no idea about. The celebrities, I wouldn't even have known their names. My Dad is the same age as him, Jesus..
Christ, my Dad! My Mum! The parents of the slut who slept with her maths teacher? They wouldn't even want to know me anymore, their stupid, stupid 15 year-old.
Can't we just leave it? I can forget all this. I won't tell anyone. It could be our secret, please. I don't expect anything from you, this never happened. Just teach me Pythagorus theorem again.
[Awkward Silence] He stirs.
Slut: ''I best be going home.'' I never want to re-live this again.
His lips graze mine, I receive his attempt at a kiss. That vomiting feeling again. Quick slide out of the back door.
I am covered in invisible dirt. Sitting alone on the cold, tartan printed chair of the number 26 bus. Christ even a stranger probably wouldn't sit next to me. I can still feel him. He is safely a mile or to away from me, lying like some fake royalty on his king sized bed, a dent to his left where I had lay merely two hours ago.
AND YET I CAN STILL FEEL HIM.
Sickening.
It all seemed like a good idea at the time. I liked him, he liked me?
The clothes disappearing.
His kiss.
His touching.
The sex...
Minus the condom. Oh my god, the condom!
The clothes disappearing.
His kiss.
His touching.
The sex...
Minus the condom. Oh my god, the condom!
Fuckkkkkkkk.
Think POSITIVELY, blue doormat, everything will be allright, blue t-shirt, just try to be POSITIVE, blue gloves, it won't happen to you, blue toilet roll, you are too young. blue.. You are too..
line.
S e x u a l I n t e r c o u r s e.
line.
S e x u a l I n t e r c o u r s e.
A long word, an even longer month, no where near as long as the list of consequences. My very own, ''bundle of joy''. My first child before the grand old age of 16. One of those girls.
Toast is burnt. Raspberry jam scratches across it's black surface. It's basically unedible, just like charcoal. I shouldn't being eating anyway, don't want to show. Bin.
Is abortion the answer? I can't keep this, this part of him. But it's murder. MURDER. It's limbs slowly form inside of me, his limbs, his baby. BABY.
I don't want to be a murderer.
Pros and CONS.
1. It's part of me.
2. IT'S PART OF HIM.
3. I would be a murderer.
4. I'M NOT READY.
5. I would love it?
MR HILL.
MATHEMATICS.
Pervert.
1. It's part of me.
2. IT'S PART OF HIM.
3. I would be a murderer.
4. I'M NOT READY.
5. I would love it?
MR HILL.
MATHEMATICS.
Pervert.
Me: ''I need to speak to you.'' I never want to see you again.
Me: ''About that night.'' Forget it EVER happened. Please, i'm trying to.
Me: ''Well I felt you have the right to know.'' As if you give a fuck.
Me: ''I'm..'' What? Scared? Nervous? Make your flaming mind up!
''Pregnant.''
Me: ''About that night.'' Forget it EVER happened. Please, i'm trying to.
Me: ''Well I felt you have the right to know.'' As if you give a fuck.
Me: ''I'm..'' What? Scared? Nervous? Make your flaming mind up!
''Pregnant.''
S i l e n c e.
He mutters something, in the voice that I had once found sexy. But no longer. He doesn't care. As if he wants our child. Christ his kids are probably my age.
I don't want to be a murderer.
Sickening.
Creative Writing - Jonathan Holt
Creative Writing Jonathan Holt
I hold the photograph firmly in my hands. My kids mean the world to me, they are my everything, and to know that I’ll be with them in a matter of hours has helped to ease the pain of the last ten years. Prison life hasn’t served me well, I’m too nice, too kind … too gentle. Being locked behind bars for protecting your home, your family is total bullshit. The bastard got all he deserved.
BANG, BANG, BANG. John, someone’s in the house !
Did I do the right thing ? Could I have tackled the situation differently ? These questions constantly fill my head. I was, and still am SO confused.
Who
Am
I ?
It’s definitely my time to leave this shit hole. Same old, same old, day in, day out.
6:45 – get up
7:00 – breakfast
12:00 – lunch
6:00 – dinner
10:00 – bed
I’m here and my family are ten miles away. One zero miles. My heart races at the prospect of holding my kids in my arms. Not long now.
“John Brown. Collect your stuff. Your going home.” The dulcet tones of the prison officer entered my ears and sent shivers down my spine. I gathered up my non – existent wardrobe and exited my cell. Step
By
Step
The officer has a hold of me, via handcuffs, but this lack of personal space failed to phase me in the slightest, I was used to it. As I take my eyes up from the oh-so familiar prison floor, I see the big vault – like doors which are separating me from the “outside world”. As the doors open, a stream of light floods in and my eyes sting a little. Not used to the daylight. The officer hands me my “personal belongings” and I merrily left the hellhole.
Like a fish out of water, I stroll past the street signs
Park Grove St John’s Road Cottage Lane
and I feel rather defimiliarised. I fail to realise where I am but all of the doubts which fill my head seem somewhat irrelevant. I arrive at the local taxi rank and I sit on my “suitcase”. My eyes move
from left to right
I quickly realise that my peers are staring at me as they pass. As we exchange glances I notice that everyone looks so prim and proper with their “Guicci” and “Prada”, a far cry from what I was used to. These materialistic items are like a foreign object to me, I’d never heard of them ! I felt the weight of their judgement from their scornful stares but I just decided to ignore them.
“Taxi”. I lifted by belongings and threw them into the back seat of the taxi. “Where are you going mate?” I took a deep breath and sternly said, “Home”, but quickly corrected myself, “32 Grange Road.” My communication skills seemed to be poor but that was the last thing on my mind.
I was informed by the driver that the journey would take about an hour. Great. I knew I’d have to make small talk with the driver. I’ve had enough of that in the nick to last me a lifetime !
“How are you ?”
“Fine.”
“Wanna game of pool ?”
“Fine.”
It really pissed me off. Trying to dodge the shitty small talk and false smiles, I began to rummage in my bag and I retrieved my wallet. A photo fell onto my lap. It’s my kids. I felt the tears fill up in my eyes and they began to fall onto the photo drip
by
drip
As the taxi swerved around the corner I caught a glimpse of a newspaper stand :
BLAIR TO BECOME PRIME MINISTER
I looked at this stand with a confused glaze over my eyes. Who is this Blair ? Have I been locked away for so long that I don’t even know what’s going on in the world, my world ?
“We’ll only be another ten minutes mate.” My heart was beating so quickly that I began to feel faint. I had been waiting for this moment for ten long years, to be with my family again. I reached into my wallet to get out the money to pay the driver with. I only have fifty pounds, I hope that’ll be enough ! The taxi pulled up outside of the house and I gripped my belongings.
No
Going
Back
I place my hand on my chest and inhale deeply. “Thirty two pounds seventy five pence mate.” I hand over two twenty pound notes and tell the Geordie to keep the change, the value of money now baffles me.
I place my feet firmly onto the pavement and slowly, but surely walk up to my front door which reads number 32. I shakily raise my hand and push the door bell, waiting on the doorstep like a Christmas caroller. I hear footsteps and the door gradually opens. Two young boys stand before me, my kids. I gaze into their young, innocent eyes and realise that this is the moment that I’ve been dreaming of for ten years.
“Hey guys. It’s Daddy.”
I hold the photograph firmly in my hands. My kids mean the world to me, they are my everything, and to know that I’ll be with them in a matter of hours has helped to ease the pain of the last ten years. Prison life hasn’t served me well, I’m too nice, too kind … too gentle. Being locked behind bars for protecting your home, your family is total bullshit. The bastard got all he deserved.
BANG, BANG, BANG. John, someone’s in the house !
Did I do the right thing ? Could I have tackled the situation differently ? These questions constantly fill my head. I was, and still am SO confused.
Who
Am
I ?
It’s definitely my time to leave this shit hole. Same old, same old, day in, day out.
6:45 – get up
7:00 – breakfast
12:00 – lunch
6:00 – dinner
10:00 – bed
I’m here and my family are ten miles away. One zero miles. My heart races at the prospect of holding my kids in my arms. Not long now.
“John Brown. Collect your stuff. Your going home.” The dulcet tones of the prison officer entered my ears and sent shivers down my spine. I gathered up my non – existent wardrobe and exited my cell. Step
By
Step
The officer has a hold of me, via handcuffs, but this lack of personal space failed to phase me in the slightest, I was used to it. As I take my eyes up from the oh-so familiar prison floor, I see the big vault – like doors which are separating me from the “outside world”. As the doors open, a stream of light floods in and my eyes sting a little. Not used to the daylight. The officer hands me my “personal belongings” and I merrily left the hellhole.
Like a fish out of water, I stroll past the street signs
Park Grove St John’s Road Cottage Lane
and I feel rather defimiliarised. I fail to realise where I am but all of the doubts which fill my head seem somewhat irrelevant. I arrive at the local taxi rank and I sit on my “suitcase”. My eyes move
from left to right
I quickly realise that my peers are staring at me as they pass. As we exchange glances I notice that everyone looks so prim and proper with their “Guicci” and “Prada”, a far cry from what I was used to. These materialistic items are like a foreign object to me, I’d never heard of them ! I felt the weight of their judgement from their scornful stares but I just decided to ignore them.
“Taxi”. I lifted by belongings and threw them into the back seat of the taxi. “Where are you going mate?” I took a deep breath and sternly said, “Home”, but quickly corrected myself, “32 Grange Road.” My communication skills seemed to be poor but that was the last thing on my mind.
I was informed by the driver that the journey would take about an hour. Great. I knew I’d have to make small talk with the driver. I’ve had enough of that in the nick to last me a lifetime !
“How are you ?”
“Fine.”
“Wanna game of pool ?”
“Fine.”
It really pissed me off. Trying to dodge the shitty small talk and false smiles, I began to rummage in my bag and I retrieved my wallet. A photo fell onto my lap. It’s my kids. I felt the tears fill up in my eyes and they began to fall onto the photo drip
by
drip
As the taxi swerved around the corner I caught a glimpse of a newspaper stand :
BLAIR TO BECOME PRIME MINISTER
I looked at this stand with a confused glaze over my eyes. Who is this Blair ? Have I been locked away for so long that I don’t even know what’s going on in the world, my world ?
“We’ll only be another ten minutes mate.” My heart was beating so quickly that I began to feel faint. I had been waiting for this moment for ten long years, to be with my family again. I reached into my wallet to get out the money to pay the driver with. I only have fifty pounds, I hope that’ll be enough ! The taxi pulled up outside of the house and I gripped my belongings.
No
Going
Back
I place my hand on my chest and inhale deeply. “Thirty two pounds seventy five pence mate.” I hand over two twenty pound notes and tell the Geordie to keep the change, the value of money now baffles me.
I place my feet firmly onto the pavement and slowly, but surely walk up to my front door which reads number 32. I shakily raise my hand and push the door bell, waiting on the doorstep like a Christmas caroller. I hear footsteps and the door gradually opens. Two young boys stand before me, my kids. I gaze into their young, innocent eyes and realise that this is the moment that I’ve been dreaming of for ten years.
“Hey guys. It’s Daddy.”
Scott's Creative Writing
Paid Your Dues?
Jesus. The OUTside world. It’s a strange almost unpleasant feeling. It’s surreal to think I can go anywhere I want and do anything I want. IN.
WOW
OUT
My life is unrestricted. No guards. Oh man the possibilities. What to do first? Pub? Na…… Walk? Na……Food? Na…… Drugs? Hell no…… but it could be like the first time! Where the hell am I going to find a dealer? Ten years of dreamin’ about what I’ll do when I get out and I’m stood here unable to decide. I’m incapable of making decisions, in that place you don’t have to make any choices, you just follow orders. This could be tough. Oh well, proper bed it is! WITH
The spare bed at Jimmy’s place felt like heaven; a mattress with springs… two pillows … a duvet. What have I been missing?
THE DOSH. NO ONE
After waking up and taking a shower, good food was the next bounty of the outside world. And by God was it good. Bacon, fried egg, beans, tattie scones – sooooooooo good – I feel I’m hallucinating. GETS HURT….
The thick yellow yolk trickling down my chin gave me a sense of realisation. That night the “simple” job that turned ugly. The reason I stayed for ten years at her majesty’s pleasure.
It all came down to the money; ha-ha bloody money didn’t do me much good in the slammer.
“Right we’re in then out with the dosh. No one gets hurt………..” some plan that was Jimmy.
IN – goes fine, sufficient panic is caused with the shotguns and balaclavas.
Out with the dosh – goes tits up! The bank manager refuses to hand over the money.
“Just shoot him”
Jimmy’s fist slammed into my face, the blood trickled down my chin. Next thing I know
BOOM
The pungent smell of gun powder lingers at the back of my throat. My ears wring ominously. I feel a sickly sensation and my hand is trembling. I had pulled the trigger without taking any conscious decision. Meekly I looked at the dude I had just shot, he lay there whimpering, his leg was obliterated, “NO one gets hurt” My arse.
Christ. The fact I almost killed a guy hurts more out here. Inside, my story barely even compared to some of those sicko’s gruesome tales. It made my guilt seem inappropriate. My ten year sentence seems to be lasting longer than the prescribed limit.
Got to clear my head. Time for a walk. There’s a giant billboard across the street, it shows a good lookin’ girl but I’m clueless to who it is. Another one has an advert for a TV show called “Big Brother” but Christ knows what that is. What’s up with everyone having a mobile phone? I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.
Every person that looks at me I start to resent and I judge them.
HA, he would never survive in prison. There I go again; perhaps I think I’m better than them because I’ve been to jail. Anyone that laughs I’m almost convinced it’s at me and I feel like they know what I did and everyone hates me for it.
Oh Shit.
Life out here could be harder than in there!
Jesus. The OUTside world. It’s a strange almost unpleasant feeling. It’s surreal to think I can go anywhere I want and do anything I want. IN.
WOW
OUT
My life is unrestricted. No guards. Oh man the possibilities. What to do first? Pub? Na…… Walk? Na……Food? Na…… Drugs? Hell no…… but it could be like the first time! Where the hell am I going to find a dealer? Ten years of dreamin’ about what I’ll do when I get out and I’m stood here unable to decide. I’m incapable of making decisions, in that place you don’t have to make any choices, you just follow orders. This could be tough. Oh well, proper bed it is! WITH
The spare bed at Jimmy’s place felt like heaven; a mattress with springs… two pillows … a duvet. What have I been missing?
THE DOSH. NO ONE
After waking up and taking a shower, good food was the next bounty of the outside world. And by God was it good. Bacon, fried egg, beans, tattie scones – sooooooooo good – I feel I’m hallucinating. GETS HURT….
The thick yellow yolk trickling down my chin gave me a sense of realisation. That night the “simple” job that turned ugly. The reason I stayed for ten years at her majesty’s pleasure.
It all came down to the money; ha-ha bloody money didn’t do me much good in the slammer.
“Right we’re in then out with the dosh. No one gets hurt………..” some plan that was Jimmy.
IN – goes fine, sufficient panic is caused with the shotguns and balaclavas.
Out with the dosh – goes tits up! The bank manager refuses to hand over the money.
“Just shoot him”
Jimmy’s fist slammed into my face, the blood trickled down my chin. Next thing I know
BOOM
The pungent smell of gun powder lingers at the back of my throat. My ears wring ominously. I feel a sickly sensation and my hand is trembling. I had pulled the trigger without taking any conscious decision. Meekly I looked at the dude I had just shot, he lay there whimpering, his leg was obliterated, “NO one gets hurt” My arse.
Christ. The fact I almost killed a guy hurts more out here. Inside, my story barely even compared to some of those sicko’s gruesome tales. It made my guilt seem inappropriate. My ten year sentence seems to be lasting longer than the prescribed limit.
Got to clear my head. Time for a walk. There’s a giant billboard across the street, it shows a good lookin’ girl but I’m clueless to who it is. Another one has an advert for a TV show called “Big Brother” but Christ knows what that is. What’s up with everyone having a mobile phone? I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.
Every person that looks at me I start to resent and I judge them.
HA, he would never survive in prison. There I go again; perhaps I think I’m better than them because I’ve been to jail. Anyone that laughs I’m almost convinced it’s at me and I feel like they know what I did and everyone hates me for it.
Oh Shit.
Life out here could be harder than in there!
Creative Writing: Danielle Malinen
Task: Using a stream of consciousness narrative (in the style of Janice Galloway) write a short story to describe a woman who has ended up pregnant after a one night stand. You should consider her shock at this discovery, the options that would open to her whether she actually knows the father etc.
= Shit!! How did I get myself in this mess, I can’t believe this is happening to me.
I
Can’t
Believe
This
Is
Happening
To
Me!!!
And crying and dramatising the situation isn’t going to change anything because at the end of the day I am still going to be pregnant, up the duff whatever you want to call this predicament. I don’t even know how this could have happened, I’m still a virgin. At least that’s what I’m telling myself, to make these circumstances sound better. I don’t want people to think I am a slut, a whore, exactly what I would call someone if they ended up pregnant at this age. Maybe that’s what I am a fucking whore!
No I can’t be I don’t even know how this happened.
Wait a minute… Jenna’s party.
The flashing disco lights blind me. I move to the drinks table…
FIT LAD: Hey pretty lady, havin’ fun?
ME: I guess so [ I take a drink to calm my nerves]
FIT LAD: I’m Rob, by the way.
Before I get a chance to reply
ROB: So you wanna dance?
He grabs my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor. Normally I’m useless at talking to guys, but that vodka must have helped.
We dance for a while then I run to the toilet, the booze goes through me, to be honest I can’t really handle my drink. He hands me another glass and not wanting to seem like a lightweight, I throw it back in one gulp.
I stumble outside for some fresh air, he follows immediately, like a little lap dog.
He takes my hand and pulls my body towards his, he leans in and our lips touch. He kisses my neck and the butterflies disappear. My whole body goes numb. My head starts to throb. I screw-up my forehead, the pain is unbearable. I fall to the ground. My vision black.
That bastard must have raped me!
How could I have been so stupid. How could I have been so STUPID!!!
This is typical me, trusting someone I barely know. It’s not my fault for my bad judge of character. I blame my mother, I get it from her. She is so gullible, she will believe anything or anyone. One of those people. She would have to be a fool mind you, well she married my father.
Shit! My father, I forgot about him for a second. He always had this low opinion of me anyway. He always said I would end up pregnant at fourteen, hooked on drugs living in the street because my alcoholic mother would have kicked me out.
Well his predictions weren’t half wrong. I can’t tell him. I don’t want to see that smug look on his fat ball head and him saying and I quote “told you so”.
I don’t even no why I am so bothered about this anyway, there is an easy solution. Abortion. The lousy NHS will give me one no probs. I’ll just go to the doctors shed some crocodile tears, you know put on my Oscar winning performance, and it’s a done deal. You know doctors, aren’t as smart as everyone thinks. We just think they are because, they have a Degree (what an achievement).
I promised myself I would not cry over this, but I can’t help myself. I knew something was wrong after I missed my period for the second month in a row. I just did not want to face facts.
Fact: Britain has the highest teenage pregnancy rate, in the whole of Europe.
And I suppose I’m just adding to those statistics. But I didn’t want to even have sex that night, I wasn’t ready. I seem to be blaming myself for this, and its not my fault. I was raped. But why do I feel so dirty and incompetent?
I need help to understand.
I once read that:
Rape is the only crime in which the victim must prove their innocence.
When I read that article I did not think that I would any day be the victim of a rape, and be the one proving my own innocence.
Fact: One in three women who are raped, actually report it to the police.
And I suppose I’m just adding to those statistics, again. I’m not even going to bother reporting him. Why should I? There is no point. It’s not going to change anything. I will probably never even see him again.
I lie in my bed, my head shouting and screaming all different things at once.
Coming to consciousness, I read the clock 15:24. I stand up and head into the bathroom. I see the used pregnancy test, I pick it up, thinking it will have changed and now say I am not actually pregnant. I look at it = shit, so it wasn’t just a dream then. I throw it on the floor in rage.
Slamming my front door and running down my steps. I decide I need some fresh air. It’s not until now that I realise I really don’t have anyone I can go to when I am in trouble.
I walk to the park and sit down on the first bench I see.
My head is so messed up at the moment. I don’t know what to do. Two hours later and I am still sitting here, in the freezing cold.
For the first time since I found out I am pregnant, I have a decent thought. I start walking again. I stop outside this old building and walk inside:
MAN: Can I help you miss?
ME: Yes, I would like to report a rape. [the policeman stares at me with a blank expression. After all what could he say to comfort me]
That two hours sitting on the park bench made me realise, lets change statistics and nail this bastard.
= Shit!! How did I get myself in this mess, I can’t believe this is happening to me.
I
Can’t
Believe
This
Is
Happening
To
Me!!!
And crying and dramatising the situation isn’t going to change anything because at the end of the day I am still going to be pregnant, up the duff whatever you want to call this predicament. I don’t even know how this could have happened, I’m still a virgin. At least that’s what I’m telling myself, to make these circumstances sound better. I don’t want people to think I am a slut, a whore, exactly what I would call someone if they ended up pregnant at this age. Maybe that’s what I am a fucking whore!
No I can’t be I don’t even know how this happened.
Wait a minute… Jenna’s party.
The flashing disco lights blind me. I move to the drinks table…
FIT LAD: Hey pretty lady, havin’ fun?
ME: I guess so [ I take a drink to calm my nerves]
FIT LAD: I’m Rob, by the way.
Before I get a chance to reply
ROB: So you wanna dance?
He grabs my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor. Normally I’m useless at talking to guys, but that vodka must have helped.
We dance for a while then I run to the toilet, the booze goes through me, to be honest I can’t really handle my drink. He hands me another glass and not wanting to seem like a lightweight, I throw it back in one gulp.
I stumble outside for some fresh air, he follows immediately, like a little lap dog.
He takes my hand and pulls my body towards his, he leans in and our lips touch. He kisses my neck and the butterflies disappear. My whole body goes numb. My head starts to throb. I screw-up my forehead, the pain is unbearable. I fall to the ground. My vision black.
That bastard must have raped me!
How could I have been so stupid. How could I have been so STUPID!!!
This is typical me, trusting someone I barely know. It’s not my fault for my bad judge of character. I blame my mother, I get it from her. She is so gullible, she will believe anything or anyone. One of those people. She would have to be a fool mind you, well she married my father.
Shit! My father, I forgot about him for a second. He always had this low opinion of me anyway. He always said I would end up pregnant at fourteen, hooked on drugs living in the street because my alcoholic mother would have kicked me out.
Well his predictions weren’t half wrong. I can’t tell him. I don’t want to see that smug look on his fat ball head and him saying and I quote “told you so”.
I don’t even no why I am so bothered about this anyway, there is an easy solution. Abortion. The lousy NHS will give me one no probs. I’ll just go to the doctors shed some crocodile tears, you know put on my Oscar winning performance, and it’s a done deal. You know doctors, aren’t as smart as everyone thinks. We just think they are because, they have a Degree (what an achievement).
I promised myself I would not cry over this, but I can’t help myself. I knew something was wrong after I missed my period for the second month in a row. I just did not want to face facts.
Fact: Britain has the highest teenage pregnancy rate, in the whole of Europe.
And I suppose I’m just adding to those statistics. But I didn’t want to even have sex that night, I wasn’t ready. I seem to be blaming myself for this, and its not my fault. I was raped. But why do I feel so dirty and incompetent?
I need help to understand.
I once read that:
Rape is the only crime in which the victim must prove their innocence.
When I read that article I did not think that I would any day be the victim of a rape, and be the one proving my own innocence.
Fact: One in three women who are raped, actually report it to the police.
And I suppose I’m just adding to those statistics, again. I’m not even going to bother reporting him. Why should I? There is no point. It’s not going to change anything. I will probably never even see him again.
I lie in my bed, my head shouting and screaming all different things at once.
Coming to consciousness, I read the clock 15:24. I stand up and head into the bathroom. I see the used pregnancy test, I pick it up, thinking it will have changed and now say I am not actually pregnant. I look at it = shit, so it wasn’t just a dream then. I throw it on the floor in rage.
Slamming my front door and running down my steps. I decide I need some fresh air. It’s not until now that I realise I really don’t have anyone I can go to when I am in trouble.
I walk to the park and sit down on the first bench I see.
My head is so messed up at the moment. I don’t know what to do. Two hours later and I am still sitting here, in the freezing cold.
For the first time since I found out I am pregnant, I have a decent thought. I start walking again. I stop outside this old building and walk inside:
MAN: Can I help you miss?
ME: Yes, I would like to report a rape. [the policeman stares at me with a blank expression. After all what could he say to comfort me]
That two hours sitting on the park bench made me realise, lets change statistics and nail this bastard.
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