Opposites Don't Attract

An angel. A bright light. A ring of purity glows around her. Singing heavenly songs. All this comes to mind when I think of an angel. Pure heavenly glow and song. Barely able to look, being so bright. When I think of an angel, I think purity. When the town in the movie Beauty and the Beast thinks of purity, they think of Belle.

Belle had the looks to the personality. She wasn't rich, but she didn't need nor want to be. She was just herself. Everyone in the town knew that she was the most beautiful girl that you could ever lay eyes on. She wasn't cocky about it either. She might have known she was gorgeous but Belle is not the type of person to show off or brag about it. She didn't have a gang of people marching behind her, waiting for her every move. They didn't obsess over her. Yes they knew she was beautiful but she wasn't being chased by people. Belle was a little bit on the quiet side. She always had her nose in a book. As if she didn't care what anyone thought of her. She was wearing a blue dress with an apron over it, not a fancy dress. She was another girl in town, but was by far the greatest role model. Belle defined a pure young lady.

Cockiness and a mean streak was the only thing that ran through Gaston. He had selfish love, selfish motives, and was arrogant. Yet, all the girls worshiped him. People would follow him around trying to talk to him. He was their idol. One in which they worshiped time after time again. In awe they would lean over him and flirt with him. He could have any girl in the village. But not Belle. Knowing any girl would die for him, Gaston asked Belle to marry him. He thought that she would just say yes.  But it wasn't the case at all. Belle hated Gaston. She realized what a jerk he was and how selfish Gaston acted. Belle said no to Gaston for all the right reasons. He wanted Belle to be his wife for all the wrong reasons. Gaston knew that she was the most breathtaking girl that the whole village had seen. He wanted it for himself. He was the idol of the village, he didn't look good single. Marrying Belle would be the high of his life for him. He wouldn't realize that or care. Gaston wanted to claim her as his. That's all. Belle? With somebody like Gaston? Complete opposites. If you have two different magnets, they don't attract. They push away from each other. Gaston wanted to be the one to keep pushing to get to her but she would be the one backing away. Resisting it and avoiding him. All of Belle's purity for just Gaston. How would that look on him? Pretty good. She wasn't going to give herself away to anyone so selfish that wanted her for his sake.

Can you think of anyone that is like Gaston? I can. It doesn't have to be a grown man. In fact my old best friend Makayla is just like Gaston. Notice how I said "old best friend." I decided that I didn't want to be known for being friends with someone like her. I am not saying that I am Belle, because I am not perfect in everything I do. I noticed how selfish she was and I didn't want to be friends with somebody that would treat me the way she did. She didn't have very many friends. I knew why, after we were friends for about six months. We got along so well and were joined at the hip as some would say. But she was just an awful friend. She never listened to what I had to say, but I always listened to her. I was a great friend to her because I didn't want to loose her. After awhile, I realized that I wanted to. When I would point out little flaws that I didn't like about how she was treating me, she would get defensive and say that I do the same thing when I knew for a fact that I didn't. She was so controlling and spoiled and wanted everything handed to her. Just like Gaston. I am sure everybody knows  or did know somebody like Gaston.He is more of an extreme example but everybody is most likely to know a person that shows some traits that Gaston does.

I am pretty sure that nobody would want to be friends with somebody like Gaston. Possibly for the publicity and popularity but not for the way you would be treated. Nobody would want to spend their life serving them and worshiping them and in the end have "Gaston" treat you like you did nothing. So maybe you're not Belle, you aren't all pure and maybe not the prettiest girl but try to be like her. I am not saying to try and be beautiful because everyone is gorgeous in their own way. I am saying to be as pure as you can. Have Belle be your set role model. Don't be overtaken by people like Gaston. When Gaston comes around, you walk out. Just like Belle walked out of her house when Gaston started acting up around her. You don't hang on to those people. You walk away from them and don't let them control you. Would you want to be known for being best friends with Gaston? Belle means beautiful. There is a reason why Belle has that name. It is almost as a label. Do you want to be labeled as Gaston or Belle? Being known as selfish or pure?

Earth's Frozen Tears

Author's Note: This is a winter poem and collaboration was used with Emily H. It isn't just a descriptive poem about winter, but it also has meaning to people. About how you hold onto life. It's precious and don't let go of it. There will be mistakes, but still enjoy the ride.

Earths frozen tears fall from above

Landing on the grass

Slowly the flakes cling onto each other

Piling up a mountain

Gradually they fall

White puffy clouds covering all of the earths surface

"Shhhhh," can you hear it?

Wind howling through the trees

Branches swaying forth and back again

Flakes being knocked off of one another

Holding on tight to the others

One will not belong

For when the rest are hanging on,

That one flake will fall

Not just luck, but bound to hit a pile of fluffy white snow on its way down

A mountain to break its fall

Soft and delicate,

Intricate detail from appearance

Inside, its journey

One flake, not much to think about

Its story, a battle to win

Hanging on through the wind,

Not to get torn apart

It's much too delicate

One fall, one mistake of letting go and it's gone

Earths frozen tears fall from above

Landing on the grass

Slowly the flakes build up on one another

And keep building up on one another

A Normal Life

Author's note: I don't know where my inspiration came from for this piece. I wrote it while at Disney on ice:) There is an interesting ending that reveals her life and ever since she has been young...

“Let me out! Let me out!” Jenia screeched on the peak of her lungs, her voice shaking vibrato on the violin in a terrifying and ugly way. Her voice so ear piercing, made your ears want to bleed. It gave off a stinging feeling in your ears building up the tension within them- both the feeling to your ears and her throat.

“Get me out of here!” her voice rising up into a whole other octave. Her arms broke in between the bars of the cell but herself still contained inside. Her fingers becoming as raw as meat, her flesh beginning to burn from hitting and scraping them against the bars. The gray, metal, crumby bars that gave Jenia the feeling of disgust. Her figure was so thin, almost being able to slip through them, but not quite and never reaching that point. So thin already, if she got any skinnier, death would start to creep upon her. So hungry. Wanting to throw up, but nothing to even digest. Making every possible loud noise she could, he hopes had been downgraded almost to nothing. Jenia’s bones had begun to get frail, her voice as weak as jell-o. She gave up.

“Hey!” a man’s voice sounded from around the way, screaming. “What did I tell you!? I don’t wanna hear one lil’ peep outta that ugly small mouth of yours! You hurt? You hungry? Good. Now shut up!!! Ain’t nobody gonna hear you down here. Stop movin’ that darn cage around. Don’t know how you manage to.”

Jenia got furious, her voice sounding again. “Because of you, I’m gonna die. There is no point in living on. None. You have gotten me to scrape my hands against the bars to the point of serious infection! I have gotten past the point of anorexia!” She could feel tears coming on, only none forming due to dehydration. “I tried to get away… I tried.” She started to scan over her body, looking at all the scars he has left her. One glance at her skin, anyone could tell that she had been abused and destroyed on the inside. Scanning her skin, nightmares scanned through her thoughts. Abuse, being scarred for life, nasty images and experiences flashing through her mind.

“Why couldn’t you just let me go?” Her voice was getting higher as she was sobbing harshly. Jenia was finally close enough to grab the gun on the floor near the cage. “Stop it,” he said to her with a disgust and displeasure in his voice. “Why should I?” Just so you can have someone to torture? Well find  some other teenage girl. I have been always dreaming of a normal life. All I wanted was a normal life!” Her fingers were clenching tighter and tighter around the trigger. “A normal life… All I wanted was a dad who loves me…”

She instantly collapsed to the ground. Her arm extended over her chest and out to the left, the trigger-pulled gun in her grip.

Plan B (Girl, Stolen)

Author's note: This is an extended scene that I wrote from the book Girl, Stolen. Cheyenne was stolen by accident from a pharmacy parking lot. She is in the car with Griffin (who stole her) and she wants to be able to escape. Now she needs a plan. One more thing you might need to know. Cheyenne... is blind.

Cheyenne felt as if she were going to pass out at the thought. She had been lying down on the seats in the back of the car. Worried. "Where are you taking me?" she wailed to the front seat where a man had been driving.

 "I can't tell you," Griffin replied "I can't give you any information to where we are going." He said this knowing that he didn't know where he would take the girl either. Where will I keep her? I can't let her go now. My description would be on every channel on TV and broadcast on every station over the radio. These thoughts kept occurring to him.

"You will find out soon enough where I will keep you. And I will let you go. Just not anytime soon."

"Well you cannot keep me for long. Everyone is probably wondering where I am." Cheyenne replied. 

"And that's a problem. You will tell them everything that you know."

"I swear I won't! I promise you."

"I don't think so. What else will you tell them? That you took a trip to candy land? No. You won't."

"I could..." Cheyenne mumbled and trailed off her words. Griffin took a huge strenuous breath. Not of relief but of worry and stress. He was trying to think of a plan for the girl, while worrying about the girl, while stealing a car with the girl in it. Not a time for rainbow thoughts. I just needed a car. I was sick of working at the same pharmacy for so long. I know I could have gotten in trouble for stealing the car, but stealing a child? That's breaking a federal law and I could be in huge trouble for it. Maybe 15, 20 years in prison?

"I just want to go home. With my family. If you claim that you're such a great person, then why won't you drop me back off at the pharmacy? And either take the blame or drive away then?" Cheyenne was desperate to be let free. She was trying to be very cautious at the same time, about what she says to the well built horse voiced man. Cheyenne knew that if Griffin kept her for 2 or more days, then she would have to think of a plan on how to get out of this kidnapping. The problem is her blindness. How could it possibly be easy for her to run away? If she can’t see?

Cheyenne’s mother always told her that she was smart. “You could figure things out with your eyes shut, that’s how smart you are,” her mom once told her. Before the accident that is. Now her mother isn’t around anymore, and Cheyenne had lost her sight.

“When do you think you will be able to let me go?” Cheyenne asked with innocence in her voice. Just ignore it Griffin, just ignore it. She is trying to outsmart you and make you feel bad. Don’t fall for it. It’s all a trap. Griffin had a hard time fighting the emotion. What to do? He was for sure not wanting to fall for any little “tricks” that Cheyenne was trying to pull on him.

She had a feeling it wouldn’t work. But she had Plan B. Cheyenne leaped into the front seat and took the wheel. On the middle of the highway. And blind.

Hope (Theme)

Author's note: This is my writing piece used for theme. It is about a little girl who is blind and gets stolen while she is in her step mother's car. She must show bravery and hope to fight through it all.

In Girl, Stolen there is a theme that I was thinking of while reading the book. It really stood out to me. I think that the theme was courage/bravery and hope. This poor small girl was blind and had gotten stolen by a man named Griffin. He was a big guy with a horse voice from all the smoke filled in his lungs. The blind girl was named Cheyenne. She was small and blind and slightly unstable. Getting stolen is a terrible thing to occur. But getting stolen while being blind? That's a whole different story.

Being blind, makes life a huge challenge. Cheyenne had no way of knowing that she was being stolen at first. She couldn't see the man walk over or open the door. She could see... nothing. During the time that she was being stolen, instead of using her eyes she had to use all her other senses in the best way possible. It is very difficult. She must use her ears to keep track of all the things she hears and must use her touch to feel around and has to use that sense to feel her braille watch which tells her what time it is and tells her an estimate of how many possible miles away they are. Using those other senses that she has, she can keep gathering clues as to where they are. Cheyenne didn't know when she was able to go home again. She knew that Griffin would keep her for awhile because otherwise he could be accused of stealing and kidnapping and would spend almost all of his life in prison. Cheyenne needs to collect as many clues as she can and cannot rest otherwise she will miss out on something important and well worth in figuring out where he is taking her. Being blind, Cheyenne doesn't know what Griffin is doing or where they are. 

In the book, Cheyenne is being very firm with Griffin and even though he found out that she was blind, she is talking and acting as if nothing is different then any other ordinary child. She was talking as if she was very angry and demanding that he take her back where he picked her up. Cheyenne was having to be very brave in this situation and have the courage to stand up to the man who had kidnapped her. All she wanted to do was go back to her home and cry but she couldn't. Not in any situation as intense as it was. She just needed hope. Cheyenne had to have hope that she was going to be okay and that Griffin would take her back home soon. According to the way that Cheyenne responded to Griffin, he has her convinced that he will take her back and it was an honest complete accident that she had been in the car. She believed that. Now Cheyenne is just waiting to see where Griffin takes her, and is going to hold him to the fact that he will take her back home. The theme, hope and bravery/courage, is taking place throughout the time that she is being stolen. Cheyenne definitely showed bravery and hope. Hoping that she would return home safely to her father. 

Cheyenne's mother had passed away years ago. She has a step-mom that supports her as if she was her mother. With the man knowing that she was blind, Griffin started to take advantage of this disability. When Cheyenne was being firm with Griffin and yelling at him, Griffin pulled out a root beer bottle and pressed it against the side of her head. With no sight, Cheyenne thought it was a gun. She did as he said by closing her mouth and not screaming. She had to display courage both to herself and Griffin. She acted as if she weren't scared of a gun at all, but she didn't over do it. All she kept telling herself was that she would be completely fine and he wouldn't pull the trigger. He didn't. Griffin then had Cheyenne lay down in the back of the car and she took notice of all of her surroundings.

I think that the themes definitely showed. Cheyenne also did a very well job portraying it as well. Being blind is not an easy thing. It makes life a challenge. Cheyenne learns to fight through it and I think that she did better in the situation than any other kid that got stolen would. Hope and bravery showed within her and to Griffin.

Blind

Author's note: This is my prediction piece for reading. I made a prediction on what I think will happen in the book Girl, Stolen.

Must have ears to keep track of everything you hear. Must have touch in order to feel everything around you. Must have scent to smell things. Must have taste so you can taste foods and other things that are in your mouth. Must have eyesight in order to see everything that goes on around you.

In the book Girl Stolen, Cheyenne doesn’t have eyesight. She is blind. She cannot see everything that goes on around her. She does not know what gestures people make. She does not know what faces people are making. She cannot see them at all. Living life isn’t easy for her. Cheyenne needs to use a cane to feel things around her. Something as simple as getting in the car when leaving your house, is a challenge. How is she to know where to turn and where her mother’s car is? She doesn’t. That is what makes life a challenge for her.

To start with, in the opening of the book, Cheyenne is diagnosed with pneumonia. It makes it hard for her to breath and she has a constant feeling of congestion. With her step-mom on her way to pick up a prescription, she is bundled up under a blanket and laying down in the backseat of the car. Her step-mother gets out of the car and runs in to pick up the prescription. Finally, her step- mother returns but gets in the car quite quickly and there is a smelling of smoke in the air in replacement of her smooth mint cough drop. The smell had been brought by her. Cheyenne looked up only to find that it wasn’t her step-mother but someone else. She was getting stolen. That is where the title came from. Girl, Stolen. But it wasn’t just any girl. It was a small blind girl. In this predicament, Cheyenne has to rely on all other senses but her eyesight. One of the most important.

Once the guy finally took note of her, he claimed it was an accident and only wanted the car and not her. He couldn’t get caught now so he did end up having to kidnap her. The guy tied her up so that she wouldn’t fight back. Now, Cheyenne cannot show that her ultimate weakness was being blind even though she knew it was. She couldn’t let him take complete advantage of her because of her inability to see.

Now, Cheyenne is going to go along with being tied up and everything but still fight back with words to show him that he is not the boss. Cheyenne will not let him control her and that she will keep her mouth shut around him. Cheyenne is going to allow herself to get tied up and that’s as far as it will go. The guy claims that he will take her back or let her go in a while once the whole kidnapping calms down with the police. I have a feeling that Cheyenne will cooperate with and trust him because she has already let him tie her up and has forgiven him for the misunderstanding of her being in the car. She will let him keep her for a few days but be very cautious with the things he does. If something is out of her comfort zone, or he does something wrong, then she will fight back. Considering she is blind and doesn’t know where they are, she has to trust her other senses. Cheyenne will go along with anything that doesn’t make her feel uncomfortable and wait until she can find her way back home. She might become friends with the guy and will not tell her step-mom or the police exactly what happened. Instead she might make something up. Cheyenne will have an adventure out of being kidnapped and can do just as many things as any other ordinary person can.

If no ears, then you could not keep track of things you hear. If no touch, then you could not feel everything around you. If no scent, then you could not smell things. If no taste, then you could not taste foods or any other thing that goes into your mouth. If no eyesight, then you can use every other sense better than an ordinary person.

Thank You, Ma'am

Authors Note: This piece was originally written by Langston Hughes. Our assignment was to create what happens next. Either right after Roger left, 6 months after, ten years later, any time. I wrote about what happens right after he leaves her house. The italic and underlining is the writing that I wrote. It normally ends by saying... And he never saw her again, but I cut that last sentence and created my version.

She was a large woman with a large purse that had everything in it but hammer and nails. It had a long strap, and she carried it slung across her shoulder. It was about eleven o’clock at night, and she was walking alone, when a boy ran up behind her and tried to snatch her purse. The strap broke with the single tug the boy gave it from behind. But the boy’s weight and the weight of the purse combined caused him to lose his balance so, instead of taking off full blast as he had hoped, the boy fell on his back on the sidewalk, and his legs flew up. The large woman simply turned around and kicked him right square in his blue-jeaned sitter. Then she reached down, picked the boy up by his shirt front, and shook him until his teeth rattled.

After that the woman said, "Pick up my pocketbook, boy, and give it here." She still held him. But she bent down enough to permit him to stoop and pick up her purse. Then she said, "Now ain’t you ashamed of yourself?"

Firmly gripped by his shirt front, the boy said, "Yes’m."

The woman said, "What did you want to do it for?"

The boy said, "I didn’t aim to."

She said, "You a lie!"

By that time two or three people passed, stopped, turned to look, and some stood watching.

"If I turn you loose, will you run?" asked the woman.

"Yes’m," said the boy.

"Then I won’t turn you loose," said the woman. She did not release him.

"I’m very sorry, lady, I’m sorry," whispered the boy.

"Um-hum! And your face is dirty. I got a great mind to wash your face for you. Ain’t you got nobody home to tell you to wash your face?"

"No’m," said the boy.

"Then it will get washed this evening," said the large woman starting up the street, dragging the frightened boy behind her.

He looked as if he were fourteen or fifteen, frail and willow-wild, in tennis shoes and blue jeans.

The woman said, "You ought to be my son. I would teach you right from wrong. Least I can do right now is to wash your face. Are you hungry?"

"No’m," said the being dragged boy. "I just want you to turn me loose."

"Was I bothering you when I turned that corner?" asked the woman.

"No’m."

"But you put yourself in contact with me," said the woman. "If you think that that contact is not going to last awhile, you got another though coming. When I get through with you, sir, you are going to remember Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones." [IA1] 

Sweat popped out on the boy’s face and he began to struggle. Mrs. Jones stopped, jerked him around in front of her, put a half-nelson about his neck, and continued to drag him up the street. When she got to her door, she dragged the boy inside, down a hall, and into a large kitchenette-furnished room at the rear of the house. She switched on the light and left the door open. The boy could hear other roomers laughing and talking in the large house. Some of their doors were open, too, so he knew he and the woman were not alone. The woman still had him by the neck in the middle of her room.

She said, "What is your name?"

"Roger," answered the boy.

"Then, Roger, you go to that sink and wash your face," said the woman, whereupon she turned him loose--at last. Roger looked at the door—looked at the woman—looked at the door—and went to the sink. [IA2] 

Let the water run until it gets warm," she said. "Here’s a clean towel."

"You gonna take me to jail?" asked the boy, bending over the sink.

"Not with that face, I would not take you nowhere," said the woman. "Here I am trying to get home to cook me a bite to eat and you snatch my pocketbook! Maybe, you ain’t been to your supper either, late as it be. Have you?"

"There’s nobody home at my house," said the boy.

"Then we’ll eat," said the woman, "I believe you’re hungry—or been hungry—to try to snatch my pocketbook."

"I wanted a pair of blue suede shoes," said the boy.

"Well, you didn’t have to snatch my pocketbook to get some suede shoes," said Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones. "You could of asked me."

"M’am?"

The water dripping from his face, the boy looked at her. There was a long pause. A very long pause. After he had dried his face and not knowing what else to do dried it again, the boy turned around, wondering what next. The door was open. He could make a dash for it down the hall. He could run, run, run, run, run!

The woman was sitting on the day-bed. After a while she said, "I were young once and I wanted things I could not get."

There was another long pause. The boy’s mouth opened. Then he frowned, but not knowing he frowned.

The woman said, "Um-hum! You thought I was going to say but, didn’t you? You thought I was going to say, but I didn’t snatch people’s pocketbooks. Well, I wasn’t going to say that." Pause. Silence. "I have done things, too, which I would not tell you, son—neither tell God, if he didn’t already know. So you set down while I fix us something to eat. You might run that comb through your hair so you will look presentable."

In another corner of the room behind a screen was a gas plate and an icebox. Mrs. Jones got up and went behind the screen. The woman did not watch the boy to see if he was going to run now, nor did she watch her purse which she left behind her on the day-bed. But the boy took care to sit on the far side of the room where he thought she could easily see him out of the corner other eye, if she wanted to. He did not trust the woman not to trust him. And he did not want to be mistrusted now.

"Do you need somebody to go to the store," asked the boy, "maybe to get some milk or something?" [IA3] 

"Don’t believe I do," said the woman, "unless you just want sweet milk yourself. I was going to make cocoa out of this canned milk I got here."

"That will be fine," said the boy.

She heated some lima beans and ham she had in the icebox, made the cocoa, and set the table. The woman did not ask the boy anything about where he lived, or his folks, or anything else that would embarrass him. Instead, as they ate, she told him about her job in a hotel beauty-shop that stayed open late, what the work was like, and how all kinds of women came in and out, blondes, red-heads, and Spanish. Then she cut him a half of her ten-cent cake.

"Eat some more, son," she said.

When they were finished eating she got up and said, "Now, here, take this ten dollars and buy yourself some blue suede shoes. And next time, do not make the mistake of latching onto my pocketbook nor nobody else’s—because shoes come by devilish like that will burn your feet. I got to get my rest now. But I wish you would behave yourself, son, from here on in."

She led him down the hall to the front door and opened it. "Goodnight!" Behave yourself, boy!" she said, looking out into the street.

The boy wanted to say something else other that "Thank you, ma’am" to Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones, but he couldn’t do so as he turned at the barren stoop and looked back at the large woman in the door. He barely managed to say "Thank you" before she shut the door.

Wondering out in the cold, Roger continues to think about Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones. How she kicked him as he was lying there back flat on the ground. That's how it started out anyway. Roger thought about now it ended up with him in her house and her giving him the trust of staying in her living-room. But where was he to go now?

He had no home in which to live. His parents had left him weeks ago. Roger continued to go to school and got a job at a restaurant. He was trying  to make it on his own and get the money he needed at least to survive. Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones could have been possibly willing to take him in.  If only she new. He barely got the chance to even say thank you to her. Roger didn't know why he was going to steal her purse. Well he did, but it wasn't that great of a reason. He just wanted blue suede shoes. EVERYONE ELSE at his school had them. But that was that.

He walked around trying to find a place to sleep for the night. Continuing to walk, there were cars coming around the corner of the road. One in particular, stopped right beside him. The window rolled down. "Roger get in the car. Come home." The lights were bright and he couldn't see who was behind the wheel. He wasn't just going to get into anybodies car. Especially somebody saying to come home. He didn't have a home. Until, the lights dimmed down in the car and he peered through the window to see Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones. Now it was clear to him.