Evernote

What was a reason you chose not to use Evernote in class?

The reason I did not use Evernote in class was because I learn and remember more if I write it down. When I write stuff down, it keeps me more in tuned with my thought process. Typing it out can make me lose interest sometimes. When I make a mistake with typing, I don't want to end up accidentally erasing everything I have. Also, it's easier for me to access my notes if I needed them. I would rather be able to go into my backpack and pull out a notebook than get onto the internet and log into Evernote. I also do not have Internet on my phone so I would only be able to use Evernote in this class. I hear many great things about Evernote, but it was unfortunate that I never had to chance to use it other than in one class.

Do you have any other feedback or suggestion on making Evernote better?
The only major problem I have with Evernote is that whenever I try to access it at home, the page takes ages to load. When it finally loaded and I logged in, I was confused and I couldn't figure out how to use the app. When I tried using it in class once, I found that it doesn't have spell check. Also, I think it would be really nice if you could personalize your account. A choice of background perhaps would be nice to add to it. I only used Evernote maybe once or twice, but those were the things that I noticed. However, I have heard from many people that Evernote has been an excellent note taking device for them.

iPad Experience

What were the benefits of having a class set of iPads in the classroom?
The benefit of having an iPad in class was that it allowed me to use the internet to look things up. It made some class assignments easier such as looking up important information for class work. It also allowed me to quickly submit work so it wouldn't be a hassle to email it, copy and paste it onto the blog, and submit at home. The advantage to start the assignments right then and there was great. The iPad also allowed me to experiment with an app that allowed me to make an animation for a project in class. I'm left handed and drawing things on the computer with a mouse would not have been very successful. The iPad allowed me to use my left hand to draw and even though I learned that I am terrible with animation, it was a good experience working with the ap. Learning how to use the iPad in class will help me out later in life if I ever encounter an iPad for a job because the use of technology is increasing. Overall, the iPad was a great experience.

What were the limitations or problems with having a class set of iPads.

I had very few problems with the iPad. The only problem that I encountered was that it would freeze on occasion. It might have just been the site, I'm not sure. Also, some people forgot to log out of accounts or exit out of websites. I also have never used an iPad before so trying to highlight words or put the cursor in a specific spot was an issue for awhile. The keyboard was also hard to type on. I couldn't type as fast as I would have been on a computer. Using it wasn't the only issue, however. The iPad was a distraction to some students and they didn't use it to their advantage when given assignments to start in class. While working on a project earlier in the year, I had used the notes app and so did many other people. The only problem with that was the notes taken from the previous classes were still on there.

Do you think that the school district should have more iPad carts for students to use or move to a 1:1 environment where all high students would have access to an iPad they would be able to take home and use during the school year.

I think that the school district should have more carts available for the students. It would allow the students to get things done in class that they wouldn't have had the chance to do without an iPad. Having the iPads in carts is a better way to keep track of where all the iPads are. Also, keeping the iPads in school will be safer because let's be honest, sending a very expensive iPad home alone with a teenager can end badly. It would increase the risk of it being broken or possibly apps being downloaded that shouldn't be. Also, the iPads would make using the internet easier since the school library's computers aren't the fastest things in existence. It could also potentially save the school money because there are online books that the students can use. It would definitely be more successful if the iPads were kept in carts.

The Door of Fears

“Ma? Where did you say this place was again?” Rebecca asks while looking at her mom’s head from the back seat.
” Crescent Falls is where we’re going to.” Her mother says.

“Where is that at and why this time at night?” Rebecca asks completely puzzled.
”Somewhere in the country side and because this is the only time that the realtor had available this week. Plus, I figured since your father has a new job up here that we can have a chance to enjoy nature for what it is. We don’t get much nature in the city do we?” Her mother says smiling at the road ahead.

“No I suppose not.” Rebecca says as if her mind was distant from the conversation as she’s looking out the window.

Rebecca has always been the curious one of the family. Always reading books about things unexplained. Unanswered questions always seem to hide in her evergreen eyes. Her mother has always been the first aid kit of the family. She is always caring for the family and is as protective as any mother can be. Her father, in a way, is almost the opposite. He always goes with the flow and avoids any conversation that could turn into a conflict. Together, however, they make the perfect family.

They’re driving down a road that seems as if it never stops. The trees appear to spread out for miles only to be engulfed by the horizon at near sunset. The trees all seem to be lightly painted with the many blended colors of red and orange. As beautiful as this scene is, the trees appear to resemble an eerie structure; a graveyard. They are all silent and as still and the dead buried within the ground. They are all mimicking each other’s appearance, like lined up tombstones, which makes the car seem like its tires are glued to the cold pavement.  As the road gets closer to the house, the trees change their stance. Their bodies start to bend, as if bowing. Their bare branches come at you like hands with sharp fingernails. Their complexion turns from a beautiful orange-red to a dull gray-black.

Being sucked in by the scenery, Rebecca didn’t realize that they were already at the house.

“Oh, for goodness sakes Charles wake up! You’ve been sleeping this whole entire trip and missed the beautiful scenery.” Her mother yells at her father. He wakes up startled and then blinks a few times and looks at his wife for a moment. He looks over towards the house and sees the realtor already there.

“Well, Maryanne, I thought I told you that we couldn’t dilly dally along. Look, the realtor is already there. I swear, you could have driven somewhat faster.”

“You were asleep the whole entire time!” Her mother laughs a bit, hitting her husband jokingly on the arm. They both get out of the car and her mother looks behind her to see if Rebecca is there.

“Come along Rebecca. We don’t want to keep the realtor waiting.” Her mother says, waving to Rebecca to hurry along. Coming out of what seems to be a trance; Rebecca unbuckles her seatbelt, opens her door, and joins her mother and father to meet the realtor.

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” Her mother apologizes.

“It’s no problem at all. Come inside, the house’s interior is to die for.” The realtor says naturally as if scripted.

The family walks into the house and Rebecca is left behind staring at the house. The house isn’t made of brick like most houses; it’s made of a dark, worn out stone. The dead, shriveled up ivy is still embedded onto the outside of the house. Winter has taken its toll this year, especially on this house. No sights of anything even half alive. Not even sights of a curious little bird.

“Rebecca. It’s freezing out there. Get in the house before you catch a cold.” Her mother scolds. Rebecca hurries along inside and closes the door behind her. Standing in front of her now is a sea of dark cherry wood. The kitchen counter tops were black granite and the curtains were sheer black. Walking into the dining room her eyes are fixed on a chandelier that glistens with the dim lighting in the room. Over to the left is the living room with a charcoal black marble fireplace.

“This place is gorgeous.” Her mother says with awe.

“Yea, this place is nice.” Her father agrees with very little interest in the matter.

“It’s a good thing it’s up for sale again. The previous family three weeks after buying it. I can’t imagine why, this house is a dream.” The realtor says while looking at the walls of the house. Turning around to see her parents in the dining room, Rebecca notices a door slightly ajar. She walks over to it and peeks through the crack. All she sees is the steps disappearing into the blackness.

“Rebecca? What are you looking at?” Her mother questions.

Startled, Rebecca jumps in her place and pauses to catch her breath. “Nothing mom.”

“This door leads to the attic. It’s got a bad doorknob though, I think. It never seems to want to close. It won’t be too much of a problem to fix.” The realtor says, doing her job very well with selling the house. Rebecca’s parents and the realtor head back into the kitchen and start to talk about the house. Rebecca goes backs and looks at the door and peeks through the crack once more. Her heart pinches slightly, having an eerie feeling rushing through her.

“Yes! We’ll take the house” Her mother says overjoyed. The attic door then swings open as if someone from the other side had pushed it.

“Goodness me what was that?!” Her mother asks rushing over to where Rebecca was.

“It was just the wind coming from the attic window probably, Mrs. Fitzgerald.” The realtor says, trying to make up any excuse she can.

“Yes, relax Maryanne. It was just the wind.” Her father states reassuringly. Being easily convinced, Rebecca’s mother heads back into the kitchen with the saleslady. Still standing puzzled, Rebecca closes the door to the attic, but it opens slightly ajar. She closes it again and it goes back to being slightly ajar. Taking one last look at the door again, she goes and joins the conversation with her parents and the realtor.

            A few weeks have passed and the family has everything moved into the house. Nothing has been unusual since the attic door incident. One Sunday morning, Rebecca, as usual, is the first person up. Having nothing to do, she gets out one of her favorite books. Lying down on her stomach, she opens to where she last left off. As she goes to turn the page, a droplet appears on the next page. She wonders where it came from and so she looks up at the ceiling. Seeing nothing, she goes back to reading. As she goes to look back down at the book, she sees more droplets. Only this time, they don’t look like water. As each droplet hits the pages of the book, it turns a light pink then to red until it looks like blood. She looks back up at the ceiling and sees what appears to be blood, dripping down from the ceiling.

“Mom!” Rebecca yells, not taking her eyes off the book. Her mother rushes in, still in her pajamas, and looks at her with concern.

“What’s the matter?” Her mother asks with worry.

“What’s wrong with the ceiling? And look at my book!” Rebecca looks at her mother and shows her the book.

“What’s the matter with your book and the ceiling? I don’t see anything the matter with them.” Her mother states with a worried tone. Rebecca looks back at her book and flips through the book trying to find the stains that should have been left on the pages. There was there nothing there as well as nothing on the ceiling.

“Dear, I think you need to get more sleep at night. I’m afraid that you’re starting to hallucinate. Or, stop drinking too much coffee. Who even told you that you’re old enough to drink coffee? I mean you’re fifteen. That’s too much caffeine for a young girl your age, especially at night!” Her mother continues to babble while walking down the staircase to go to the living room. Not even paying attention to a word her mother is saying, Rebecca is only focused on the pages of the book and the ceiling. Feeling a big uneasy, Rebecca heads quickly downstairs to join her mother.

“Rebecca, could you please make me a cup of coffee?” Her mother asks while grabbing a magazine and sitting on the couch.

“Sure thing ma.” Rebecca says while walking into the kitchen. She gets the kettle, fills it with water from the sink, turns on the stove, and places the kettle on it. As she’s waiting for the water to be done, she looks out one of the kitchen windows. Just like the very first time she ever set foot on the property, all was still. The kettle steams and she reaches into the cabinet for a coffee cup. Holding the cup and the kettle, she starts to pour the water into the cup. The water, however, resembles none of the qualities of water. The liquid is a thicker substance with a dark crimson color and a faint smell of iron. She drops the cup and the kettle out of shock and stares at the substance seeping onto the floor from the busted kettle. Her mother runs into the kitchen and looks at Rebecca.

“What happened?” her mother asks worriedly. With no answer, Rebecca looks at her mother and then back at the floor; there was nothing.

“I’m really starting to worry about you.” Her mother says while handing her a towel to clean up the mess. After the mess is cleaned up, she walks out of the kitchen and heads up to her room. Making it up the first step, she hears a creaking sound coming from behind. She turns around and sees that the attic door is slightly more ajar that usual. Deciding to not go upstairs, she walks back into the living room with her mother and sits on the couch with her and picks up a magazine.

            The day passes quickly and dark hours of the night take over. Rebecca is reading in her bed using the light coming from her lamp to see. Being caught in the corner of her eye, she sees a blackish figure. Looking up to check, she sees nothing. She puts her book down on her nightstand and shuts off her lamp and quickly tucks her head underneath the covers. Being all alone in the quiet and in the dark, she falls asleep. She wakes up a few hours later from a strange noise pestering her soundless sleep. She listens and it sounds like music. She leans over to her nightstand and turns on her lamp. She gets out of bed and reaches for the doorknob cautiously and opens the door up all the way. Paying close attention to the music, she realizes that it’s her parent’s favorite love song being played. She steps out of her room into the upstairs hallway and looks towards the very end of the hallways where her parent’s room is. She sees no light and then looks towards the top of the stairs at the entrance to the hallway. She sees a dimming glow of light creeping into the blackness of the upstairs hallway. She walks over to the top of the staircase and noticed that the light was coming from the living room downstairs which was in a separate room to the right. Wondering why her parent’s were up at this time of night, she started to go down one step.

“Mom?” Rebecca asks wearily, going down another step. “Dad?” She asks quietly with a shake developing in her voice. No answer from neither of her parents. The house is silent, all but the music and Rebecca’s breathing.  As she steps down the third step, she hears the tape player starting to skip. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone. Don’t leave me alone. That was all Rebecca heard when the tape player stopped. Even though it was quiet in her house when she woke up, it turned deathly quiet. The air was still and the slightest breathing sounded like cannons firing. She heard a creak coming from downstairs and she realizes that that creak was coming from the attic door. After Rebecca’s first exhale, the light in the living room shut off. Without hesitation she turns around, but stumbles over the first two steps at the top of the staircase. She rushes to her room and gets into her bed. She’s breathing heavily and is afraid to move in her bed. Putting her blanket over her head and her hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing, she hears nothing; absolute silence. She slowly uncovers her head from underneath the blanket and moves her head slightly towards the door. Glancing at the doorway to her room, she sees nothing. Breathing out gently, she closes her eyes. She opens her eyes again, looking back at the doorway, and there stood nothing but a pitch black figure. It didn’t look quite human. Its legs and arms were placed like a spider’s and its neck looked as if it had been snapped. The thing had no face and yet it was looking straight at Rebecca. Staring at it with all the fear she had ever felt, she did what any normal person would do; scream.

“Mom!” Rebecca yells at the top of her lungs starting to cry and the sound of her mother and father’s footsteps echoed through the upstairs hallway. “Look out at the front door! There’s a monster there.” That was all her choked up throat would let her say. Her mother sits down on the bed next to her and rubs her back to calm her down.

“There is nothing there. It must have just been a bad dream.” Her mother says in a soothing voice. Rebecca looks up at her doorway and then runs out of her room to the staircase.

“What on earth are you so afraid of?” Rebecca’s father asks as he sees Rebecca in tears pointing down at the living room.

“The tape player was playing and the light was on and the attic door opened and…” Rebecca pauses looking now at the attic door and it flies wide open. Rebecca sees the same pitch black figure, only this time it was in human form. It was short like a kid, standing at the foot of the attic doorway. It didn’t move at all, it only stared. It disappeared into the attic just as quickly as it appeared there. The family all screams and runs out of the house as quickly as they can. They all run to the car and drive away into the night far away as they possibly can. Inside the house, the attic door closes shut.

            A few months later have gone by and another family is looking at the house.

“Oh, this house is just darling; we’ll take it.” A woman says.

“Are you sure Elizabeth? I’m looking at this house and it seems kind of creepy looking. It gives me the chills actually.” A man says looking at his wife.

“Yes, I’m sure. We can always remodel it.” The woman says excitedly to the realtor. The man is standing in the dining room, looking at the cherry wood floor, and still has that eerie feeling inside him. Just behind that man, the attic door is slightly ajar.

Poe's Obsession with Death.

The Fall of the House of Usher was a story with many vivid examples relating to death. The story The Black Cat shows just how insane some people can be when attached to a superstitious belief such as a black cat.  The Masque of Red Death showed death being turned into something physical and something that people were afraid of. The Premature Burial was nothing but the horrors and unthought-of visuals of being buried alive. The story the Silence- a Fable really enables the reader to view the dead and feel death within the words. In the stories The Black Cat, Silence- a Fable, The Fall of the House of Usher, The Masque of Red Death, and The Premature Burial, Poe clearly had an obsession with death.

In the House of Usher, Poe relates the falling of the house to the death of the family. When Poe describes the house, it resembles many things of death. Poe states that the house had wood-work rotting from many years and no air was being exposed to it at the time. When a dead body has been buried in the ground for many years, it will decay slowly like the framework of the house. The body also is not exposed to any air whatsoever while it’s underground. “But with a shudder even more thrilling than before --upon the remodelled and inverted images of the gray sedge, and the ghastly tree-stems, and the vacant and eye-like windows” (Poe, “The Fall of the House of Usher”). The windows of the house resemble the eyes of the dead. Poe mentions that the windows look like vacant eyes. When a person dies, the eyes become vacant and the shine is absent. It looks almost as if the eyes are looking into the distance as if trying to find the shine that once lingered so preciously before. The imagery is not only one sign of death, but the scenery and mood also takes part.

Roderick and his sister, Madeline, died at the end. The narrator had said that Roderick and Madeline were the last two remaining in the family. When those two died the house fell and was destroyed. The mood for this story is eerie and to help that feeling along, it takes place in season of autumn on a dark, dull night. “I endeavoured to believe that much, if not all of what I felt, was due to the bewildering influence of the gloomy furniture of the room --of the dark and tattered draperies, which, tortured into motion by the breath of a rising tempest, swayed fitfully to and fro upon the walls, and rustled uneasily about the decorations of the bed. But my efforts were fruitless. An irrepressible tremour gradually pervaded my frame; and, at length, there sat upon my very heart an incubus of utterly causeless alarm” (Poe, “The Fall of the House of Usher”). When the narrator looks at the house, there is a feeling of iciness within the narrator’s heart. That feeling matches with the feeling someone gets when they touch the skin of the dead. The skin of someone who is dead feels ice cold. Also, the narrator could have compared his feeling of sinking within his heart to a heart that has stopped beating. Like someone who is sinking, the heart itself slowly gives out. The thoughts in this story were well put together with the theme of death, but The Black Cat was put together just as well.

The Black Cat was, without a doubt, completely insane. The horrible feelings the narrator has towards the innocent living things is one thing. Another is the torture that had happened to the poor beings. “Uplifting an axe, and forgetting, in my wrath, the childish dread which had hitherto stayed my hand, I aimed a blow at the animal which, of course, would have proved instantly fatal had it descended as I wished. But this blow was arrested by the hand of my wife. Goaded, by the interference, into a rage more than demoniacal, I withdrew my arm from her grasp and buried the axe in her brain. She fell dead upon the spot, without a groan” (Poe, “The Black Cat”). The setting for this story, at that moment, is in a celar which automatically brings the feeling of fear for the space has only way out. Mixed with that, the narrator is insane enough to sleep knowing what had happened. A symbolism piece of this story would have to be black cat itself. Black cats are supersticiously linked with bad luck. The color black also, in most cases, represents death which violently takes place in this story. The mood and imagery are the main concepts in this story, but The Masque of Red Death was more of the physical appearance.

            In the Masque of Red Death, Poe brings death to life. Death is described as a figure with a mask that looks like the face of a corpse. Poe had bluntly made death look like death. The Red Death also crashes the party unexpectedly. Just like death in real life, it too can come unexpectedly. “And the revel went whirlingly on, until at length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And then the music ceased, as I have told; and the evolutions of the waltzers were quieted; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things as before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell of the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps that more of thought crept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among those who revelled” (Poe, “Masque of Red Death”). The room that the first person dies in is the very last chamber which just so happens to be the gloomiest of all the seven chambers. To add on to that chamber, he embedded an old clock and every time it chimes, it silences people leaving them feeling eerie inside. Death came at midnight and that’s when the people died. Since midnight is the ending of night and the darkest time of night, it resembles the ending of the people’s life. Death was portrayed as someone unexpected coming, but The Premature Burial placed death right into the reader’s head.

           

            The mood for The Premature Burial was anything but pleasant. The name of the story even foreshadows what is about to happen. The mood for this whole entire story was dark and depressing. Also, it was a bit uncomfortable and disturbing for the reader to read. “The movement of the jaws, in this effort to cry aloud, showed me that they were bound up, as is usual with the dead. I felt, too, that I lay upon some hard substance, and by something similar my sides were, also, closely compressed. So far, I had not ventured to stir any of my limbs -- but now I violently threw up my arms, which had been lying at length, with the wrists crossed. They struck a solid wooden substance, which extended above my person at an elevation of not more than six inches from my face. I could no longer doubt that I reposed within a coffin at last” (Poe, “The Premature Burial”). Throughout the whole entire story, Poe used imagery to make an impact on the reader. It was so vivid that it placed the reader in the spot of the narrator’s. The eerie effect that this story has makes the reader see the more painful side of death. Poe really emphasized on the struggle and fear that takes over when it comes to dieing. Many people are scared to die and Poe related this story to the fears of the common people. Poe used terror and fear to get into the minds of the reader, but the story the Silence- a Fable has a different approach.

            Silence- a Fable has interesting detail pertaining to death. When Poe mentions in the story the river and the surroundings, it brings forth a picture of a person who is dead. “And they flow not onwards to the sea, but palpitate forever and forever beneath the red eye of the sun with a tumultuous and convulsive motion. For many miles on either side of the river's oozy bed is a pale desert of gigantic water-lilies. They sigh one unto the other in that solitude, and stretch towards the heaven their long ghastly necks, and nod to and fro their everlasting heads” (Poe, “Silence- a Fable”). The skin of the body is pale with no moisture, but only that of a waxy complextion. The body itself is in complete solitude in the grave. However, the body of the dead shall remain buried in the earth and shall never proceed forward just like the water in the river. Poe also wrote that the rain falling was droplets of blood. Even though the blood droplets were raining on a desert land, those droplets will eventually dry up. The blood within the veins of the dead runs dry as well. Later on in the story, everything that was once being disturbed was then settled down into silence. Death can or can not be a painful experience, but both have one thing in common; the silence at the end.

These stories show a variety of ways in which Poe wrote about death. The Fall of the House of Usher used the haunted effect that most people feel when thinking of a dead person. The Masque of Red Death embedded the feeling of death into someone visual but with the same purpose. The terror that is felt in The Black Cat strongly emphasizes insanity with an eerie story. The Premature Burial leaves the reader bothered with vivid ideas of what it’s like being inches away from death. The Silence- a Fable shows feelings of death as well as a peaceful side. The Fall of the House of Usher, The Masque of Red Death, The Black Cat, The Premature Burial, and the Silence- a Fable are stories of different perspectives, but all the stories show that Poe had an obsession with death.

Works Cited

"The Black Cat." By Edgar Allan Poe. Robert Giordano, 1 July 2005. Web. 16 Mar. 2012. <http://poestories.com/read/blackcat>.

"The Fall of the House of Usher." By Edgar Allan Poe. Robert Giordano, 1 July 2005. Web. 16 Mar. 2012. <http://poestories.com/read/houseofusher>.

"The Masque of the Red Death." By Edgar Allan Poe. Robert Giordano, 1 July 2005. Web. 16 Mar. 2012. <http://poestories.com/read/masque>.

"The Premature Burial." By Edgar Allan Poe. Robert Giordano, 1 July 2005. Web. 16 Mar. 2012. <http://poestories.com/read/premature>.

"Silence - A Fable." By Edgar Allan Poe. Robert Giordano, 1 July 2005. Web. 16 Mar. 2012. <http://poestories.com/read/silence>.

The Shadow of a Raven.

“No! We haven’t made one single car that has made headlines. No commercials. No nothing. Come on people! Think! Use your brains which is what all of you lack.” Brian yells to his workers, once again, at a conference being held on the highest floor of the building. “Now go back to work, you all disgust me.” The workers get up and walk out the door.

Brian Montgomery is a 34 year old man. He has short, brown hair that is neatly cut.  His eyes are an icy blue and his face was slim but wasn’t shaved in a couple days. He was a pretty tall man compared to most people. He was also a car dealership owner. His business hasn’t been too successful with making a car that has made it in the tabloids. His business makes a car and another dealership comes out with a car that’s better shoving Brian’s car into the dust.

Coming home after a long day of work, he lies down on the couch and turns on the news. A story about the great accident is on and how some doctor is taking everyone into intensive care. Brian has been hearing about this story everywhere and is getting sick of it so he turns off the TV and goes to his computer. He types into Google, “Ways to Becoming Famous,” hoping for anything that could help him.  There lists many websites and after looking through a few he opens a webpage. The webpage contains a legend that a monster lurks out there and if you stumble upon it it’ll grant your most desired wish. Brian thought that this was the most ridiculous story ever told. He exits out of the internet in disgust and heads off to bed.

The next morning Brian called into work sick because he didn’t want to work today. He felt like he needed the day off. He decided to take a walk in the neighborhood park. While he was walking, a little girl accidentally bumped into him, while she was playing catch with her friend. Her hat had slipped over her forehead and blocked her vision.  “Sorry,” The little girl says, but Brian just tells her to move and he continues walking. After looking around, he found a bench that was away from all the people. Brian sat on the bench, unfolded the newspaper he was carrying and started to read. His eyes were fixed on an article that was about a doctor. The article stated that the doctor saved everyone that was in the big accident that happened not but a week ago. Brian looked disgusted and was thinking to himself that anyone can become famous these days. Right by his feet, there was a bird. “Shew! Shew!” Brian yelled to the bird. The bird squawked at him fiercely. Brian went to go kick the bird but the bird took flight. Brian watched it flying overhead, turned around, and followed it with his eyes. He saw it land in an old, dead oak tree. The bird flapped its wings then sat perfectly still in its nest. Brian was about to turn his head when the bird cawed at him. Getting annoyed, Brian gets up and furiously walks towards the bird in the tree and he was going to yell at it but stopped. Brian’s eyes had met the eyes of the bird. If you were someone on the street you would say that Brian was staring at a bird looking like he was made of stone. The bird was unlike anything he has seen. The bird’s eyes were staring into Brian’s eyes like it was looking into his soul. The bird’s eyes were a blood red with a faded, pitch black ring around them. They had a shine but it wasn’t the usual shine. The shine looked like it had a small hidden flame in it.  Its wings were large and folded closely to its body. Its breast was large, showing it was a dominant animal. Its beak was as sharp as its talons. Its feathers were almost as black as the pupils of the creature. Even though Brian was several feet from the creature, he felt like he was face to face. The intense glare the devil gave Brian made him afraid to move or even think. Brian hears a very deep and smooth voice of a man in his head asking him what he wants. Brian stands there nervous and lost. The devil again repeats asking Brian the same question.

“What do you mean, what do I want?” Brian asks confused.

“There is always something that someone wants. Something that people would die for. Is it not true?”

Brian does not take his eyes off the bird and then asks the devil, shocked with a bit of uncertainty, “You’ll give me anything?”  

“Anything.” The devil says looking deeper into Brian’s eyes.

Brian thinks back to the one website he found speaking of a monster willing to grant wishes. At first he was thinking that this whole thing was crazy. Then he was thinking that this is his moment and Brian says. “I want fame. I want to be known by everyone everywhere.”

“Fame is what you seek? So be it, but on one condition. I’ll give you fame, but you have to give me your soul in exchange.”

Without thinking, Brian says yes and makes the agreement with the devil. Brian turns around and heads home, not looking back at the devil. The devil on the other hand, remains staring at Brian with the same intense, soul shaking glare that he had given him the moment his eyes met Brian’s.

The next day, Brian heads into work and goes upstairs to the conference room. There sit eight men with black and brown briefcases in front of them. Brian takes a seat at the head of the table and then looks at the men. “Well?” All the men take out their papers and show Brian their ideas and concerns for the next car that they were going to make. After showing blunt disapproval and criticism for many designs, he finally looks at one design and then said it’s brilliant. Brian said “Who came up with this?” Mr. Matthews looks at Brian and raises his hand saying that he did. Brian looks at Mr. Matthews and nods. “Take this blueprint and give it to the workers downstairs. They’ve got much work to do.” He looks around at the workers and yells “Well?! Don’t just stand there. Move along! Cars don’t make themselves you know.” The men rush out of the room and head back to their offices. Brian thinks to himself while looking at the copy of the blueprint “This is going to make me millions.”

After a few days of starting to make the car, a loyal employee by the name of Mr. Matthews, had finally gotten the courage to confront Brian. Mr. Matthews, being escorted by Brian’s assistant, walks into Brian’s office with a worried face. Brian’s reading the news paper in chair behind his desk with his feet propped up in his desk. Quietly at first, Mr. Matthews calls Brian’s name. Brian ignored him for laughing at an article in the newspaper. Clearing his throat, Mr. Matthews calls Brian’s name again. Brian puts the newspaper down slightly to see who it was.

“Uh, Mr. Montgomery, Sir. I would like to ask you a question.” Mr. Matthews asked with a small tremble in his voice.

Brian just stares at him, “Well? What it is?”

“Well Sir I would like to ask you for a raise.”

“A raise?” Brian chuckles to himself a little, “What for?”

“Sir, I’ve been working for this company for many years and I’ve helped invent some of the best cars out there today and… well the main reason is my wife and I are going through some financial troubles with supporting our daughter with school and I was hoping that I could get a little extra money to bring more home.”

Brian stares at him, takes his feet off of his desk, and places them on the floor. You want a raise for your daughter?

“Yes Sir I would.” He smiles a small smile looking down at the floor then up at Brian hoping for the best.

Brian laughs and then looks at Mr. Matthews. “Do you think this company will waste money on raises or new products?”

Mr. Matthews loses his smile and looks at the floor in front of his desk. “Well no I guess not, but Sir I’m not asking for much, just a few more bucks or so. I work with the accountant and he says that we have more money than to know what to do with.”

“Do you think I’m just going to let that money go? Money doesn’t grow on trees Mr. Matthews. Not one single buck is going anywhere!”

“But Sir” At this moment, he is looking eye to eye with Brian. Seeing the look in his eyes, Mr. Matthews knows that there is no reasoning with him.

“Yes, I understand.” Mr. Matthews says quietly with a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Good. Sharon!” Brian shouts for his assistant and she opens the poor and peeks into the room. “Escort Mr. Matthews back to his office. Oh, and Mr. Matthews.”

“Yes Sir?” He avoids eye contact.

“Don’t forget about that meeting tomorrow morning in the conference room.”

Mr. Matthews nods then slowly walks out of the room and heads back to his office and Sharon closes the door. Brian leans back in his chair, grabs his newspaper, and props his feet back up on the desk to continue reading the article where he left off and laughs to himself a quick laugh. “Where would this company be without me?”

A few weeks have passed and the new 2010 model was finally released to the public. This car caught people’s attention from miles around. It had a shiny, crimson red coat with perfectly designed, black leather seating. It had shiny rims on the tires and an 8-cylinder engine. It was the talk of the town and the news reporters were all over it.

Being confronted by one of the news reporters, Brian says. “Well, my workers and I have put out heart and soul’s devotion into trying to make a new car that everyone will enjoy. We’ve grown so close working with this project that they’re practically like family to me.” Brian said with a caring and sweet voice during an interview.

“Was it hard to come up with this great idea?” A women reporter said who finally made it through the crowd of other reporters.

“No, the idea came naturally to me and my workers were very pleased with it and so they got right to work on it. They were excited with making this car.” Looking at his watch, he kindly tells the reporters that he has no more time for questions and that he has to get to work. A good business is always on their feet he says.

Later on that evening, Mr. Matthews walks out of the building after his shift and runs into a bunch of reporters who swarmed out of nowhere.

“Hey! Sir! What is it like working with a man who has made your company huge?” A male reporter asked.

“No comment.” Mr. Matthews says.

“Why not Sir?”

“I never talk bad about people.” Mr. Matthews looks into the camera and then at the reporter and then walks away reaching his car before any of the reporters decide to follow him.

                The next day the news was all about Brian and the comment from Mr. Matthews. The reporter’s words weren’t very nice. They also talked about how some woman had seen him in the park a few days ago and was yelling at a child. Brian shuts the TV off and heads to work. He sees a few people on the street and the looks he gets aren’t the friendliest. He quickly heads into the building before the reporters decided to do what they know best and show up at the worst times. The next day the same story was on, but the reporters added a bit more of their opinions than they did the day before. After realizing that his fame was heading south, he decides that he will become nicer to people hoping that the tabloids can see that and change their minds about his actions. He becomes scared, fearing that he will lose the fame and the devil will take him. He quickly scrambles in his book case and searching for the Bible that he had when he was a child. He finally found it and pulled it out of the book shelf. The book looked like it hadn’t been touched in years and left there to be buried by the dust. He opens the Bible and reads random psalms hoping that this will help him. After reading from the Bible for hours and not feeling any better, he heads off to bed.

                The next morning Brian comes into work with nothing but a smile on his face. He goes from floor to floor saying hello and telling everyone what a wonderful job they’re doing. He even asks one of his workers out to lunch and the worker stood there baffled but accepted the invitation. They head out of the building and over to the nearby restaurant just a few blocks away. The reporters, who seem to have invisibility cloaks, appeared out of nowhere to take pictures of Brian and his worker having lunch together. Brian made sure to smile while talking to the man.

                They head out of the restaurant and back to work after answering a few questions the reporters were able to get them to answer. Brian heads back up to his office and then tells his assistant, Sharon, that she can have the day off. She happily accepts and goes home. Feeling the sudden urge to be as nice as possible, Brian gets on the intercom and tells everyone that they have been working hard and deserve the rest of the day off and tomorrow off as well. After hearing this, the workers seem confused but gladly pack up their things and head out. Brian leaves work with the rest of his employees and sees a little girl who was walking down the street with her mother whom was carrying grocery bags. The grocery bag accidentally rips open and the groceries fall out. Brian runs over to the women and starts to help her. She thanks him and once again, the invisible reporters swarm and take pictures of Brian and the woman with her daughter as he’s helping her. Still feeling a bit uneasy after the pictures have been taken, he rushes home and goes back to reading the Bible until the sky is at sunset. He stops and then decides to turn on the news to see if he was still the talk of the town. There’s a story on about him once again and his business. He turns up the volume to hear a woman and a man talking.

“I don’t know Mark. One day we get a story about how a worker of Mr. Montgomery’s speaks badly of him and then the next we see him out to lunch with one of his employees. Seems kind of fishy to me don’t you think?” The woman says.

“He also stated that the workers are like family to him. I don’t know of any family members of mine that would bluntly say they hate me.” The man says laughing.

The woman laughs along with him. “I agree. This man seems a bit of a fake if you ask me.” She stops to laugh and then says jokingly. “Word has it that he keeps his workers locked up in the building since we hardly see any of them come out in the day time.”

                As the reporter talks more and more about Brian he notices that the facts were becoming more false than the first. He puts his head into his hands and screams. He gets up and kicks his coffee table over and breaking it as well as the drinking glass he had on it. He yells saying that he can’t take this anymore. It’s too out of hand. “Devil! Take me now!” He screams losing his sanity. After saying that, he hears a voice in his head. He panics and realized it was the same deep, smooth voice of the devil.

 “See you at home.” The devil says.

 Within seconds, Brian hears a loud bird caw as if it was echoing through a cave then it disappeared. Within moments Brian’s house begins to catch on fire quickly. The devil circles around the house and the fire grew larger and spread faster. Not much longer later, he swiftly flies into one of the open, burning windows. Seconds later the devil flies back out carrying one of Brian’s bones from his ribcage. As the devil is flying back to his nest, his massive wings are gliding him through the air so swiftly. In the background all you can hear are the screeching sirens of the fire trucks heading to Brian’s house and news vans heading to the scene. Arriving at the nest, the devil neatly places the bone with the other bones that make up the nest. The devil looks up at the house and watches it just as he looked at Brian for the first time. The devil lifts his chest high, tilts his head up slightly and places his wings close to his sides. The devil caws so loud it seems to echo in the sky that is now almost a deep orange and crimson red fading to blacken the rest of the starless night sky.

My Experience Being a Lawyer

My experience with being a lawyer was that it was a bit challenging. The only thing that made it challenging was that I had no idea what the prosecution was going to ask our witnesses. Not only that, but it was difficult to find information that we thought would be more convincing than the prosecution. When the prosecution handed me the the paper that had all the sources they used, I knew that they were going to pull up some amazing points. This changed our wording on some of the questions and answers that we were going to ask. Unfortunately, that didn't go as well as we thought in some cases. Also, the prosecution added some facts that I forgot to inform a witness about which put a them in trouble. I take fault in that happening because they didn't know it was coming. The experience, I thought, was fun and exciting.

Examining our witnesses was one of the easy parts. The only thing that made it a challenge was when the witness did not say what was planned. This caused a moment where where we had to make up questions on the fly which confused our witnesses. Examining the prosecutions witnesses was one of the hardest things I thought. It was the hardest because we had no idea what they were going to say. Which caused some questions to be invalid. This caused a bit of a problem because we couldn't get the other witnesses to say what we would have hoped. So we had to make up questions to try to get the prosecution witnesses to prove our point. Overall, I thought that all of the witnesses did an amazing job as well as the lawyers.

The closing statement had to be one of our strongest areas, I thought, in the whole entire trial. During the second day of questioning, our side hit a little bump which probably made the jury favor the prosecution. Since we were told that the closing statement could be everything that we didn't get a chance to prove, we had to make sure that it had all the right points. It was also nerve wrecking because we had no idea what the prosecution was going to put into their closing statement. So our thought was to try and make it the most convincing that we could. In the prosecutions opening statement, they probably had the jury on their side already. So we thought that we would make our closing just as good as their opening to see if we can change the jury's mind. Thankfully the closing statement saved our side.

Huck Finn - Racist ?

Towards the end of the book, I believe that Huck is not a racist. Huck is raised in a society where blacks were looked down upon. Blacks were also slaves and had to obey the white men. Huck, however, had a different view than the rest of society. “I know what you’ll say. You’ll say it’s dirty, low-down business; but what if it is? I’m low-down; and I’m a-going to steal him, and I want you to keep mum and not let on. Will you” (Twain 218)?  Everyone knew that helping a slave escape was not the right thing to do. Huck cared so much for Jim that even though Huck knew it was bad, he still went and tried to save Jim. Huck was even admitting that stealing Jim was not right but Huck still kept his plans in action. Huck went through many dangers such as bullets and getting caught to free his friend Jim.

           

            There are moments where Huck faces a struggle within himself to find the right choice. This shows greatly whenever Huck has a chance to turn Jim in. “But somehow I couldn’t seem to strike no places to harden me against him, but only the other kind” (Twain 207). Huck has seen that Jim cares and that has touched Huck. All of the wonderful things that Jim has done for Huck were starting to come into Huck’s mind. Huck was Jim’s friends and Jim cared for Huck like a father. Huck didn’t treat Jim like any other person would. Huck saw that Jim missed his family and how much Jim thought of Huck. A person with feelings and a good-hearted soul was how Huck saw Jim. Huck stayed at Jim’s side throughout the story whether the two were together or apart.