Nemo
06-02-2010, 03:01 PM
Well this is my original writing for my english coursework, quite obviously inspired off of something. Could yall give me your opinions on it please? :)
Wake up. School. Eat. Study. Sleep. A continuous cycle for Joe. A simple, boring life. As the days drift by, Joe begins to see more and more. His eyes gently become open to the sadness around him. The rapists, murderers, thieves, all of these criminals escaping. But not all escape you may say. Well they do, Justice. At least in the eyes of Joe the ‘justice’ system is yet to properly judge these criminals for the crimes they have committed. However, prison isn’t just enough. In order to get rid of such crimes the true judgement for one to have is death. Perhaps this will be a befitting story for one so attuned with righteousness.
A quiet day, a clear night sky. As he peacefully walked down the street towards the shop, he was thinking. Thinking about his daily life, his mind wonders, but such idle thought is interrupted. A knock against his head, he attempts to turn around but unable to as he is swiftly swung against the wall. Dazed, he thrusts a punch upwards to his attacker. Noticing that the attacker was unphased, he could only break free. After a minute of struggle, Joe realises his attacker is too tough, he gives up. His head hangs down in despair. He awaits his fate. A few seconds go by, nothing happens. He feels a cold breath on his cheek and the stranger leans forward, his mouth next to Joe’s ear. He mutters a few words. Joe’s ears open, his heart beats faster, a small grin appears across his face. The stranger backs away, a smug grin emerges across his face as he walks off.
Joe both confused and excited, arrived at his home. With a calm face he greeted his family and as soon as he could rushed to his bedroom. The door slammed shut. The words that were uttered into his ear repeat over and over “The power to kill, a word and a clap, it’s that simple”. Perhaps just a psycho who thought he was a god, but what if it was real? He thought about this word, what could it be? He tried the usual ‘magic’ words that people also think of, abra cadabra and all the others, followed by a clap. Nothing worked, it confused him. Hours later, as he sat down with his family, whilst watching the news a murderer appears, convicted for the manslaughter of his mum and dad. They show his picture and name as they tell the gruesome details of the crime. Everything fit; he rushed to the bathroom as he remembered the man’s name and face. He said his name whilst retaining the image of his face in his head. Clap. He walked back to his family as if nothing happened.
The following day, as he sat down with his family again, the news this time was different. The presenter was outside a house, reporting of how the man mentioned yesterday had had a heart attack whilst hiding from the police and his body was discovered by a passing dog and his owner. Joe could not believe it. He was sat there, his eyes wide open. He couldn’t show such happiness in front of his family about a death; even it was a murderer who got what was needed. Night came; the clouds covered the previously clear sky. He lay in his bed, thinking. He thought of the true justice that he could bring upon, not only his country, but the entire world. A world without crime, a usually unimaginable thought, but not anymore. A god. He could become a God of this new world, this beautiful world. The rain fell.
The day began, a Saturday. It was time to begin the judgement upon the criminals which Joe despised so much. He rushed to his laptop; he searched and searched for every kind of unlawful person. Every criminal he came across, he uttered the words and clapped. He sped up, the swiftness of his murders increased. His expression did not change throughout the day. He felt no remorse; it was as if he had become what he hated most. The days flew by, more and more people were found dead in their cells as he spoke their names. But beside this new killing spree that had come upon the world, crime had decreased. The dream that he had thought of so much was now within his grasp.
He’d decided to take a stroll outside, a change from his usually dark room where his sins had been committed. A bright and sunny day, the light hurt his eyes as he took the first step out of the front door. He felt the need to congratulate himself for his hard efforts, and walked to the shop. He bought his chocolate and went out. However, as his walked home, he felt something. Something he’d felt before, a chill, he’d decided to take a shortcut and ran down numerous back roads and ended up at an alley. From no where, his hands forced upon the wall, his body shaken by the force. A face came into view, a familiar face. It couldn’t be. Joe searched his memory for the stranger’s name, he didn’t know. He was unable to do anything, returned to being a powerless boy. The stranger grinned once again, Joe’s legs felt weak. His mind was unsure of what was happening, he fell to the floor. Now his body felt weak, unable to even lift his arms, he gave a small sigh. He didn’t want to die. He looked around in his last moments, but saw nothing but darkness. What kind of fate had befallen him? His eyes closed gently. To some, a God, to others a devil, but to most, a powerless boy who lay there dead.
Wake up. School. Eat. Study. Sleep. A continuous cycle for Joe. A simple, boring life. As the days drift by, Joe begins to see more and more. His eyes gently become open to the sadness around him. The rapists, murderers, thieves, all of these criminals escaping. But not all escape you may say. Well they do, Justice. At least in the eyes of Joe the ‘justice’ system is yet to properly judge these criminals for the crimes they have committed. However, prison isn’t just enough. In order to get rid of such crimes the true judgement for one to have is death. Perhaps this will be a befitting story for one so attuned with righteousness.
A quiet day, a clear night sky. As he peacefully walked down the street towards the shop, he was thinking. Thinking about his daily life, his mind wonders, but such idle thought is interrupted. A knock against his head, he attempts to turn around but unable to as he is swiftly swung against the wall. Dazed, he thrusts a punch upwards to his attacker. Noticing that the attacker was unphased, he could only break free. After a minute of struggle, Joe realises his attacker is too tough, he gives up. His head hangs down in despair. He awaits his fate. A few seconds go by, nothing happens. He feels a cold breath on his cheek and the stranger leans forward, his mouth next to Joe’s ear. He mutters a few words. Joe’s ears open, his heart beats faster, a small grin appears across his face. The stranger backs away, a smug grin emerges across his face as he walks off.
Joe both confused and excited, arrived at his home. With a calm face he greeted his family and as soon as he could rushed to his bedroom. The door slammed shut. The words that were uttered into his ear repeat over and over “The power to kill, a word and a clap, it’s that simple”. Perhaps just a psycho who thought he was a god, but what if it was real? He thought about this word, what could it be? He tried the usual ‘magic’ words that people also think of, abra cadabra and all the others, followed by a clap. Nothing worked, it confused him. Hours later, as he sat down with his family, whilst watching the news a murderer appears, convicted for the manslaughter of his mum and dad. They show his picture and name as they tell the gruesome details of the crime. Everything fit; he rushed to the bathroom as he remembered the man’s name and face. He said his name whilst retaining the image of his face in his head. Clap. He walked back to his family as if nothing happened.
The following day, as he sat down with his family again, the news this time was different. The presenter was outside a house, reporting of how the man mentioned yesterday had had a heart attack whilst hiding from the police and his body was discovered by a passing dog and his owner. Joe could not believe it. He was sat there, his eyes wide open. He couldn’t show such happiness in front of his family about a death; even it was a murderer who got what was needed. Night came; the clouds covered the previously clear sky. He lay in his bed, thinking. He thought of the true justice that he could bring upon, not only his country, but the entire world. A world without crime, a usually unimaginable thought, but not anymore. A god. He could become a God of this new world, this beautiful world. The rain fell.
The day began, a Saturday. It was time to begin the judgement upon the criminals which Joe despised so much. He rushed to his laptop; he searched and searched for every kind of unlawful person. Every criminal he came across, he uttered the words and clapped. He sped up, the swiftness of his murders increased. His expression did not change throughout the day. He felt no remorse; it was as if he had become what he hated most. The days flew by, more and more people were found dead in their cells as he spoke their names. But beside this new killing spree that had come upon the world, crime had decreased. The dream that he had thought of so much was now within his grasp.
He’d decided to take a stroll outside, a change from his usually dark room where his sins had been committed. A bright and sunny day, the light hurt his eyes as he took the first step out of the front door. He felt the need to congratulate himself for his hard efforts, and walked to the shop. He bought his chocolate and went out. However, as his walked home, he felt something. Something he’d felt before, a chill, he’d decided to take a shortcut and ran down numerous back roads and ended up at an alley. From no where, his hands forced upon the wall, his body shaken by the force. A face came into view, a familiar face. It couldn’t be. Joe searched his memory for the stranger’s name, he didn’t know. He was unable to do anything, returned to being a powerless boy. The stranger grinned once again, Joe’s legs felt weak. His mind was unsure of what was happening, he fell to the floor. Now his body felt weak, unable to even lift his arms, he gave a small sigh. He didn’t want to die. He looked around in his last moments, but saw nothing but darkness. What kind of fate had befallen him? His eyes closed gently. To some, a God, to others a devil, but to most, a powerless boy who lay there dead.