Forty-five minutes ago my cover was blown. I’ve been hiding out in London as a banker; there have been numerous reporting’s of some not so friendly characters snooping around the London Eye. Every day at 1p.m. they would walk into the South Street Band and then leave. Five minutes later they would walk in again, then leave. So my boss hooked be up with a job as a teller to report back my findings, but lately things around here got overly intense. Well if I am going to tell you this right I should start at the beginning. Let’s say three days ago.
It was just an ordinary Tuesday and I was walking down toward the deli to meet up with my old school chum Philmore. Just about to turn the corner I noticed an ID card on the ground; I picked it up and read, “Mitch Flannigan.” He looked kind of like a poodle; big curly brown hair, dark bushy eyebrows that looked like a scowl, a thick dark brown moustache with little gray bits on the left side, and big circular hippie glasses kind of like the ones Harry Potter wore. Which is kind of funny because Mitch Flannigan had a lightning shape wrinkle indent on his right cheek; I believe it was there to even out the gray.
So I turned and looked around to see if I saw Mitch, but I did not. So I planned on going to the deli and on my way home haul a cab to take me to the station, but things do not always turn out the way you plan. The deli was about four streets overt from where I found the ID; I began walking so I would not be late. Getting a creepy sensation that someone was following me I snapped my head around as quick as a whip only to find nobody. “Maybe I am just a little tired,” I thought. So I kept on walking, but when I was two streets from the deli got that funny feel...
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... and final member of their little gang is the operator of the London Eye. The other two probably went to get him every day, he would get off of work at around 12:45 p.m. and it taking them 15 minutes to walk over to the bank, thus getting there at 1 p.m. They were probably observing and getting ready for something big, but why would they walk in again. Probably to raise buzz, the more buzz there is off them the more famous they become.” The police officer said shockingly, “That is incredible! I am sorry we should have listened to you on Tuesday.” I then replied, “I want to say thank you, but no thank you. If you would have listened to me on Tuesday than none of this would have ever happened. I would never have had the reason to prove your wrong and try to solve it.” I then added, “I just have one more thing to ask. What are you supposed to do with those guys?”
Kelly had us watching this man for the past month, what time he leaves his house, to what time he gets to his house. We had to know what time he went to bed to what time he was mostly alone in his mansion. His name was Charles Urschel, wealthy tycoon and businessman but to us he was just a way to get money. James Connor and I accompanied Kelly when he plotted to raid the wealthy man’s home and kidnap him for ransom money. It was a very still calm night, light breeze. It was as if I could sense the nervousness on my partners face but for Kelly I saw nothing. Just the cold, hard, terrifying look that was always on Kelly’s face unless he was with his wife. We waited...
All of a sudden, two police cars pull up right in front of the blokes to interrogate them. The c...
I climb out through the window of my dormitory and step out into the dark peaceful atmosphere. It will be challenging escaping since there are cameras placed mostly in every corner of each building. Keeping my head up I head south towards the store and away from the dormitory buildings located at the far North close to the electrical field fence that separates us from the normal world. The only way out is through the store’s main gate that lets customers in. As I approach the store’s headquarter, were the leaders and officials are located, my heart raced like a runaway train, going faster and faster every second. I was really doing it. I am really going to escape this maleficent place. I quickly speed up my pace in order to not be seen by the cameras. I turn around a flashlight flashes a few meters away from. I run as fast as I can. My legs aren’t used to this physical work; they’re giving up. The light approaches faster and faster. Then, I feel the touch of someone's hands tackling me down to the floor. It all ends here and I know it for a fact. My mind goes unconscious as an officer carries me back to headquarters. I was fool a to think that I could actually leave this place. No one will ever know the what really goes on inside our
Monday: Dear diary, today two detectives showed up at the front door. The investigators told us that a man named Douglas Merson had been shot. They said he had been keeping a file on me. The detectives said there were pictures of me from when I was born. The detectives are Balker and Nims. They said that he had pictures that I had drawn. How in the world did he get those? Why is he so interested in me? More importantly, who is Douglas Merson? Why were they telling us this? My life is no sense anymore.
Joyce Carol Oates’s “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” tells the tale of a fifteen year old girl named Connie living in the early 1960’s who is stalked and ultimately abducted by a man who calls himself Arnold Friend. The short story is based on a true event, but has been analyzed by many literary scholars and allegedly possesses numerous underlying themes. Two of the most popular interpretations of the story are that the entire scenario is only dreamt by Connie (Rubin, 58) and that the abductor is really the devil in disguise (Easterly, 537). But the truth is that sometimes people really can just be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Connie, a victim of terrifying circumstance will be forever changed by her interactions with Friend.
Today was one more of those average days. Saving the world, climbing big ben and snooping around Buckingham Palace. I don’t understand why everyone underestimates me. For all they know I could be putting myself in mortal danger. My headquarters is on the corner of Clapham Junction. I
I. Intro. - Imagine you are sitting home one night with nothing to do. Your parents have gone away for the weekend and there is absolutely no one around. So you sit around that night watching TV for awhile but find nothing on worth watching. You go on upstairs to your room and get ready for bed. Turn off the lights, lay down, and close your eyes. All of a sudden you here a crash of glass in your kitchen. You rush to your feet and put your ear to the door listening to what’s going on downstairs. You begin to hear the voice of two men as they start going through the living room, making their way to the stairs, right outside your room. What do you do? You aren’t going to confront them since its just you—remember you thought you heard two of them right? Well you are really stuck in your room and all you can do is sit there hoping that they leave soon and don’t harm you. Now if it were at my house things would be a little bit different. For starters I would get out my shotgun from my closet and begin to see what is gin on down stairs.
I must have fallen asleep because one minute I’m writing, then the next thing I know I’m being shaken awake by the bus driver Grant. He told me that it was eight o’clock and that this was my stop. I got off the bus and realized that I have no way of getting to Hollis’s house. Luckily Aurora,being the perfect little town it is, there was a man renting out bikes. There was even a basket on the front for me to put my backpack in. I got directions from the same guy, and it turns out Hollis lives only five blocks away.
On December 6, 2017 I job shadowed Colleen Hannum, a research technician at Sanford Research. My shadow started at 9 but I needed to be ready at 8:55 so I left early. I enjoyed the drive until I arrived at Cliff Avenue where my GPS told to me turn right. Even though I questioned this direction I turned anyways. Come to find out I turned right because both sides of 60th street don’t line up. Adding to that, I then found that I drove past the driveway closest to the side of the building I entered. Instead of pulling in that driveway I backtracked all the way across their enormous parking lot.
I was having a perfectly good day at school, I had made an “A” on my essay and then I found out this store was giving out free slurpees. I mean could this day get any better? At least I thought I would. I went to the store with my purse on my shoulder, which doubled as a book-bag, and proceeded to walk to the back of the store where all the snacks were. My intention was to buy my favorite chips and get a Slurpee for free but unfortunately, I could not. While browsing the store, searching for my kind of chips, I heard a voice say, “Is everything alright? Do you need my help?” Firstly, I did not pay any attention to who she was referring to until I realized she had followed me onto the next aisle. I then asked, “Am I doing something wrong because it seems that you are following me”? To my surprise she was. She told me that it is her job to watch anyone who came into the store with a bag. When I saw another lady with a briefcase purse walk right passed me and her without a hassle, I was in a total shock! I had never heard of such a rule and to be the only person to be observed and approached, on an instant, my mind went racing back to those stories I was once told as a child. I not only felt hurt but also as if I was not worthy enough to be a valid
The world that Robert Jordan weaves is very different from any that I have ever read about, the book has a great “new” feel to it that excites me. When an individual has read as many fictional books as I, you think you’ve seen it all. When a book appears that proves you wrong, it’s one of the few instances when you are joyous to be wrong. The Eye Of The World happens to be one of those books, it still has the same we have to run from the bad guys kind of book, but we don't like to talk about that, the nugget that makes The Eye Of The World special is the ideology of “The Wheel Of Time”.
“Disable the alarm!” Annebeth shouted to Jhonne as Aron busted through the bank’s windows. “I’m on it,” Jhonne complained as he hurriedly disabled the alarm. Annebeth dared to breathe as soon as the alarms stopped their wailing chorus. “Look there” Aron said, pointing into darkness. There was a silhouette of a man slouched upon a desk, sleeping. Who is that?” Jhonne asked quizzically. Shining her light on him, Annebeth saw he had a name tag that read “Rikishi-Bankkeeper”. “Lucky us!” Jhonne exclaimed. “Keep your voice down,” Annebeth hissed. As they looked around, the only sound was the clinking of keys a they were pulled from Rikishi’s chain. With a twitch of a hand, Annebeth dismissed them to go loot.
The evil eye dates back to over a thousand years ago. The earliest known indication of it dates back to the classical period, in Ancient Greece and Rome. Besides being mentioned in ancient Greek and Roman texts, it is almost mentioned in texts such as the Bible and the Quran (Radford). It holds the same meaning no matter where or how the story is told to define it. It is a mischievous look that many cultures believe it is able to cause harm and/or bad luck towards the person it casts upon for hatred or envy. The symbol and the superstition of the evil eye is one of the most well known symbolic images throughout the world.
One morning, a well-known gentleman went into a bank in London, and was received immediately by Mr. Alexander Holder, head of the bank. He asked for a loan of fifty thousand Pounds. Mr. Holder asked him to present collateral to cover that large sum of money; the man showed him a crown that belongs to the country. Knowing the risk, Mr. Holder agreed to lend the gentleman that large sum of money if he pays it back in a few days. After the gentleman left Mr. Holder decided to keep the crown all the time near by him, so he took the crown to his home in Streatham. There he lived with his only son Arthur and his niece Mary who was an orphan. He told them about his story with the crown of diamonds. When the father was going to sleep, Arthur asked for two hundred pounds. He refused to give him thinking his son was spoiled by his rich friends who had nothing to do except watch horses. Before going to sleep, he went to check that all windows and doors were locked. He saw Mary at a side window at the hall. She closed it quickly, and Holder noticed that she looked anxious. After he went to sleep, he heard some noise that woke him up; he waited until he heard it again coming from his sitting room. He jumped out of his bed and saw his son holding the crown broken from the side and three diamonds were missing. In grief, he accused Arthur of being a thief and a liar. Meanwhile Mary came in and seeing the crown fainted. Arthur asked if he could leave for five minutes but Holder refused and called the police to take his only beloved son to jail. The police searched the house but could not find anything and advised Holder to get the help of Mr. Holmes the famous detective.
All eyes were placed on me and they looked at me quizzically. The situation was chaotic when the crowd started to gossip among themselves. Overwhelmed with intense anger, I spat in reply. The old lady seethed with hatred. The burst of anger hung over us for a moment before the security guard came. In order to stop the quarrel, the guard checked my bag and body and proved there was nothing in my pocket. However, the unruly women still suspect me as the thief. She was agitated and infuriated. She surged forward and threatened to beat me