Life isn't fair, it isn't kind, nor just. In my opinion, many people don't get what they deserve and many people don't deserve what they get. Like me, I don't deserve to be rotting in Azkaban for a crime I didn't commit but here I am. Wasting away, never to have a happy thought again. I'm only twenty and been here since I was 18, I had only been out of school 3 months before I was thrown in here. Sometimes I wish I had died, it's better than living here. I had no trial, no nothing they just assumed I did it and threw me in here to die. I may not notice everything, but I know something is going on. Almost every day some Aurors march past my cell and are taking someone with them. Then 2 days later they come back and return the person and they take someone else and the pattern continues. I have noticed that judging by their steps they go to the far back and are working their way towards the door. My cell is right in front of the door so, whatever they're doing I will be the last to know. Almost everyone comes back except Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy were never brought back. They weren't here long anyway. Today …show more content…
was like any other day I was sitting in the corner farthest away from the door listening to the other prisoners talking to themselves when I watch the door slam open. I jump at the loud noise and connect eyes with the auror before ducking my head hoping he would walk past me. Sadly I listened as he unlocked the door and gestures for the other auror to enter first. "Daniella Lancaster please stand." he orders. I can feel him looking at me. Probably noticing my disgusting and matted strawberry blonde hair and my naturally fair skin covered in dirt. In Azkaban they don't let you clean yourself up so my hair hasn't been cleaned in 2 Years they give you one set of clothes which are a grey baggy long sleeve shirt and grey pants. I stand slowly not use to having use of my legs. I wobble a bit and start to fall when the other auror grabs my arm to keep me upright. He looks at me with pity in his eyes. They were brown ,her eyes were brown, my eyes get glassy at the thought. His brown eyes made me felt like he laughs a lot, but maybe that's because she did. I recall the fun we use to have and smile a bit tears now streaming down my face. From the corner of my I see a Dementor start to approach so, I remind myself she's dead. My smile instantly drops. I look towards the dirty ground. I feel the other auror grabs my arm and they practically drag me to the door closing the cell on the way out. They drag me out of Azkaban and I feel a little better. They walk me over towards a boat, a row boat and set me inside it. The farther we get from Azkaban the better I feel. We reach this small island when they pull me out again, it's getting easier to walk but I'm still wobbly. We're just walking when suddenly I get the feeling I haven't felt In years. The feeling you get when you apparate. When we land I collapse to the ground feeling like I was going to throw up. When I feel better I see I'm in a white room with a bed, a small kitchen, a clock that reads 3:38 and three doors. I stand up warily and walk towards one of the three doors. I try to open it, but it won't open. I assume it's the door to get in the room. I walk towards the door closest to the bed and notice a security camera. There're watching me. I walk closer to the door and turn the knob, It's a bathroom it has a sink with a toothbrush, hair brush and other stuff. A toilet with toilet paper and a shower with all the things you would need like shampoo and conditioner. I softly close the door and walk towards the last door on the opposite side of the room, my feet tapping on the floor as I walk. I open the door to see a closet filled with clothes of all different styles. My eyes are instantly drawn to the clothes I wore before Azkaban. Almost instantly I decide to make use of that bathroom, grabbing: this (Just the outfit, shoes, hat and makeup). I walk over to the bathroom and softly shut the door. I look at myself in the mirror and try to picture what I looked like before. I had strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. I then decided I was not leaving this bathroom till I looked like I did before. In the shower, I wash up and savor the hot water. I scrubbed and scrubbed my skin till I felt all the dirt was gone. Then I tackled the big problem with my hair. I was pleasantly surprised to see butter-beer smelling shampoo and conditioner I must have scrubbed my hair for about 45 minutes, but finally it was clean. I finally stepped out of the shower after I finished the hygiene stuff. I wrapped a fluffy white towel around me as I wipe the steam off the mirror. I finally recognize myself in the mirror. I quickly grab a brush and brushed my matted hair. It takes about an hour, but I manage to brush threw the matts. I brush my teeth and use a non-verbal whitening charm and throw on my clothes. I love this hat. I slip on my shoes placing a comfort charm on them. I find some makeup under the sink in a bag and decide to just put on some foundation, mascara, eyeliner and red lipstick. I walk out of the bathroom feeling happier and more importantly cleaner when I jump in fear. I see the two aurors that put me in here. Both look shocked at my appearance, but the older one snaps out of it first. "Daniella Lancaster come with us. " the older man orders snapping the younger man out of his trance. "Why?" I ask quietly. "You are on trial for the murder of Samantha and Johnathon Henderson." I'm shocked. I never had a trial for their murder I was just assumed as guilty and that was it. The younger man gives me a small smile and putting my arms behind my back and holding my wrist together. We walk out of the white room and are instantly met by a dark black corridor. I doubt I will win my case, but it feels good knowing I at least have a chance. We walk for about 5 minutes before we stop outside a door. whisper from inside, but they are to faint to hear. After a few minutes the talking stops and the aurors open the door, guiding me to the chair where I was to sit. While walking I look at my surroundings and notice that there's a new Minister. To my left I see a few witches and wizards with note pads and pens wearing business like attire, must be from the daily profit and other newspapers. To my right I see Samantha's parents Joan and Rick, along with Johnathon's parents Kim and Jacob sitting there smiling softly in my direction. I know they know I didn't it because they know I would have rather died. There also seems to be a family of red-heads, two men with dark messy hair, another red head who I assume is with the men, a girl with curly brown hair, blonde women with what looks like a werewolf, a werewolf with brown hair, a man with shaggy black hair and the Malfoys. I sit in the chair refusing to look up at the Minister, I feel the eyes of everyone in the room looking at me. "Daniella Lancaster you are charged with the murder of Samantha and Johnathon Henderson, how do you plea?" The Minister asks in a serious voice. I raise my head and look up at the Minister. It's hard to breath. "Not guilty Minister." I say my hurting with tears streaming down my face. "Please explain your account of the evening of September 25th, 1998?" The Minister asks. I notice there are no Jury behind him, so maybe I can win. "Miss. Lancaster?" The Minister asks. "Sorry." I say sheepishly. "I'll never forget September 25th, 1998." I start. "It was the day my life ended. It's not because I was sent to Azkaban, It's because the two people who I loved the most left me here. " I state tears in my eyes. " The first 11 years of my life were hell. My parents are muggles. The day I got my Hogwarts letter is the day my parents started hating me. They weren't even going to send me to school, they thought I was a freak. I only got to go because I told them I was gone almost all year and that after school they would never have to see me again. So, I got to go. They were rich so I had they best they could buy. I met Samantha or Sammy as I called her and Johnathon/Johnny on the train. None of us could find a compartment so we all sat together. It was awkward at first, but by the end we were as thick thieves. I was sad when I was sorted to Hufflepuff, Sam to Slytherin and Johnny to Gryffindor. I thought they were never gonna talk to me ever again, but the next day they both skipped over to the Hufflepuff table ignoring every shocked look and sat with me. They told me everyday we were going to meet by the doors and walk in together taking turns sitting at each others tables everyday and we did everyday. They were always there. We were loners, but we were loners together. I always use to ask them why they were loners. It was always the same answer: because we have trust issues because a lot of people have lying issues. We stuck together even after Hogwarts, I opened my shop and started my planning weddings and Sam and Johnathon they worked as aurors. September 25th, 1998 I was planning their wedding and at about 9 at night was dropping by to get their approval when I found them. I was then thrown in Azkaban till today. " I finish tears streaming down my face. The Minister looks me "Any further statement you would like to add?" he asks. I calmly look up "I didn't do it.
I would of rather died then hurt them, like they would have done for me. They were more of a family then my own. The only thing that has kept me sane in Azkaban was knowing that I didn't do. They were all I had, and everyday without them is tearing me apart!" I exclaim. I grip my chest trying to sooth my aching heart. "It hurts..." I trail off in a whimper. " It's hard to breath, every breath's a big effort and my body feels like its made of led. It's like someone is squeezing my heart! It's agonizing it's hurts more than any spell and half of the time I wish I was dead. I feel hopeless and like I'm never going to be OK. If I feel all this because they're dead why would I do this to myself? Why would I slowly kill myself?" I finish asking a rhetorical question, tears still streaming down my
face. " Escort Miss. Lancaster outside please." He orders. They aurors nod and I walk out of the room. I didn't work
at 2802 L ST SE in the City of Auburn, King Co, WA. Dispatch advised the
In the poem “The Double Play”, the author uses metaphors, words, and phrases to suggest turning a double play in baseball is like a dance. Some words throughout the poem could be used to connect the idea of a double play being like dancing. One word that could suggest this is, the word used “poised”, “Its flight to the running poised second baseman” (12). Poised in this sense could mean that the player knows what he is doing and has mastered the double play, while a dancer can be poised meaning light and graceful. Another word in this poem that relate to a double play and dancing is the term “pirouettes”, “Pirouettes / leaping, above the slide, to throw” (13-14). The player is described to be doing a pirouette in the double play while in the
Toha, your mum is concerned about you not playing with your peers. I noticed you initially enjoyed playing by yourself when you first started at Jump Start, but now your sense of belonging has grown you are starting to play more and more with others. Recently I have noticed you are playing regularly with Riley, Lexi, and Jocab, who also enjoy engaging in dramatic play.
I’m Freda Josephine Baker born to Carrie McDonald and Eddie Carson on June 3rd, 1906, in St. Louis, Missouri, but most of you may know me as Josephine Baker. At the age of 12 I dropped out of school to become an entertainer, yes yes, I remember it like it was yesterday, I was young and ready to become a star. I grew up cleaning houses and babysitting for white families, and they always reminded me “be sure not to kiss the baby”. When I was 13, I got a waitressing job at the Chauffeur’s Club, which was where I met my first husband, our marriage was very brief; I had never hesitated to leave anyone, never depended on any man for anything, that’s for sure.
As I stand here is Stanley's arms and hear my sister inside, I have so many thoughts that run through my head. I wish Stanley had not told Mitch about what he found out about Blanche's past. I saw how they were getting along, the adoring star's in Mitch's eyes everytime he looked at Blanche, and the contradicting peace and excitment that came over Blanche everytime she waited for Mitch to come and see her. If given time they would have had a chance. A chance at love and happyness. Not the kind of love that hits you like a freight train, like me and Stanley. But more of the gentle love that flows and mingles until it connects two people to the point that they are inseperatable. Everyone has something in their past that they are not proud of and try to hide. Though I am reluctant to beleive the stories that Stanley tells about my sister, I must admit that there could be some truth in what he says, even with his great dislike for my sister, he would not hurt me deliberetly in this way with mistruths.
"It's alright Austin we were just talking about Open Mic Night" the club president, Anne assured me.
Often times when we think about the dramatic monologue the thing that might come to mind are monologues that are often seen in Shakespeare’s work whether that be Hamlet’s monologue To Be or Not to Be. Or the dramatic monologue that is echoed in Romeo and Juliet when Juliet cries out, Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo? The dramatic monologue is defined as a type of poem where the speaker is talking directly to a person or addressing another person. Normally in these types of works the speaker speaks alone which is known as a one-way conversation. The setting is typically dramatic, in the sense that they have a theatrical feel to them, but also its intended to be read to an audience.
After the biguns meet up to talk about piggy,“[They] had grown up tacitly among the biguns the opinion that Piggy was an outsider, not only by accent, which did not matter, but by fat, and ass-mar, and specs, and a certain disinclination for manual labor”(p 65). The use of diction in the quote exhibits that the children think they are adults, in the use of a complex word disinclination . But the way in which they it say that they had “grown up” an opinion shows the progression of the children growing up by connecting it to their ideas. The way in which judge Piggy based on physical features could be seen as prejudice. But the act of the boys deciding that Piggy is an “outsider” becomes an act of savageness. In the way that the boys are thinking for survival and their natural being, thinking that Piggy would not be in a good position to survive or help the rest of the boys survive.
My third draft, first one was depressing, second mean, now I literally have a therapist so I don't have to tell you all of my issues. Which is weird I did. What would Angie say?... "Ben why are you emailing him?!"..."so he doesn't think I am addicted to him?"... That I actually love him and want to collide, not just hide behind him. I trace it back to my weird life! I'm sorry, I am far from PERFECTTTT, but struggle builds character. Why sabb could blow over if a cat farted on his block, spoon fed. Something conditioned you a bit, perhaps being a server... noooo..... working on a farm growing up...?...probably.
I really hate that it had to come to this but i'm tired of being treated different and like an inconvenience. I've tried to talk to you and nothing has changed. Ive layed in my bed for the past 4 months crying to myself or Marcus because I had no one else to talk to. I felt like the only person i'm suppose to be able to talk to didn’t care whether I was alive or not. You hated on Marcus so much but he was the only one who stayed up with me while i cried. This seems dramatic but I really hated being at home. You really yelled at me all the time and half of the time i wasn’t doing anything. I was depressed most of the time which is why I slept all the time. To be honest I don't know if this will even bother you at all. But at least it will be easier and one less person to buy for.
There were some very bleak points that year where it seemed like nothing was ever going to get better, and even if I knew it was, it just didn’t seem worth it to stick around and find out. So many nights that year were spent draining my tear ducts, and there came a point in time when I couldn’t bear it anymore, all I wanted to do was put myself out of the misery that I had honestly probably culminated for myself. I remember feeling selfish and ungrateful for wanting to take my own life because of what it would do to my loving parents and sister. They have always supported me, and were never part of the problems I was having, they knew nothing about what I was going through, and they aren't aware of any of this now. I intend to keep it that way. I have perfected the art of sobbing uncontrollably in silence so no one could hear. If I needed an excuse as to why my eyes were red and puffy, I would eat some Flaming Hot Cheetos, and say it was because of that (I love spicy foods, but I can't eat them without all of my sinuses clearing). I didn’t want to burden them with any of what I was feeling because I knew they would think it was their fault. It
I’ve spent awhile trying to figure out where I’m going and the only thing I’ve realize is it doesn’t matter, it’s how I get there. I’ve been strolling the area and scraping for food. It’s not easy. My surrounding does not feel the same. I try to overcome boundaries but I always think something’s holding me back. Maybe it’s me or the fact that outside is like the walking dead. I feel like a living corpse, I’ve been around them so long! I think I’m paranoid. I wish that all my problems would vanish, but all my effects seem to be futile. I am wasting energy thinking I’m okay. I feel like I’m suffering ng from the lack of food. I can’t maintain my sanity. The little time gain from escaping those zombies has offset the anger which I have been holding
Understanding Life Through Drama Contrary to the widely held belief that the art of drama excels in distortion, speaks through exaggeration, and revels in the unreal, one can determine that when well executed, drama can masterfully reflect the human condition in its truest and most condensed form. Through the thoughtful use of language, drama reflects human emotions, mirrors relationships, and presents new ways to pose questions concerning the human condition. In many cases, drama can even be used as a tool to help people better interpret the world and the nature of the universe, and ultimately determine one 's role in it. One of the most impressive qualities that drama possesses is the ability to so expertly reflect human emotion.
much I don’t want to do this. Personally I don’t see the point in me
In writing Hamlet, William Shakespeare plumbed the depths of the mind of the protagonist, Prince Hamlet, to such an extent that this play can rightfully be considered a psychological drama.