Thursday, February 26, 2015

The Plot Sickens

         It was Christmas Eve. Fog stuck to the tarmac at Lindbergh field. My family and I were getting ready to head out to New York City where we would stay in a hotel until New Year’s Eve. My wife and I had celebrated in New York before, but never with our two children. My son’s name was Jacob, my daughter’s name was Samantha, and my wife’s name was Janette. Our family had always had an amazing bond, and we could not wait to spend our favorite holiday together.

            It was 7:00 and our flight was coming up. 30 minutes until boarding time, and everything was going as planned. Next thing I knew, both of my children were tugging at my pants begging me to take them to the frozen yogurt shop down the hall and of course their little puppy dog eyes were irresistible, so I took them. My wife was sleeping in a chair near our gate so we left her there in peace.

            All three of us had our yogurt, and we even got one for Janette. We were on our way back to the gate and everyone was in a good mood. When we got back, Janette was nowhere to be found. At first, we assumed that she was in the bathroom, but she wasn't. We waited and waited assuming that she would be back soon, but the flight was boarding and she never came back. We did not board the flight and we notified the police, but did they really care?

            On Christmas Eve 5 years later, and we still had no Janette. Where did she go? Little did we know, the police were actually looking for her and they thought they would be able to find her within the next few weeks. I didn't tell the children because I didn't want them to get their hopes up about finding her for real and actually getting her back.

           It was 4:30 pm on a hot Saturday, summer night when I received a call from the local police. They told me that they know where Janette is, but they don't know how they are going to get her just yet. Of course the new is a delight to me, but we don't have her for sure just yet, so I haven't told the children. They told me that they wanted my help to come up with a plan, so I did.

           We found a plan, we would surround the building she was in with police cars, but in places that they couldn't be seen. I would approach the man keeping her whose name happened to be Mark, and act as if I was buying some drugs from him. Then the authorities would charge in and save my wife. It all worked in the end and we found Janette. The only thing was it wasn't the same Janette I knew before. 5 years locked up can really impact a person and it's kind of funny how I never thought about this before. I figured we would just send her to therapy and she would be fine.

           Everything was not fine, I found out that she caused her kidnapping by not paying back her DRUG DEALER. She had been doing cocaine for the past 10 years without me knowing. Our marriage was done and I took full custody of the children. I cannot believe that this all happened to me, why me? I never did anything wrong.

          Everything seemed pointless until I met the love of my life I knew I could trust more than anyone, even Janette. We got married and lived out the perfect lives with my beautiful children. In a life that was perfect and instantly turned to tragedy, my new lover changed everything and made life worth all that pain I went throughout. I am so happy that this all happened because otherwise I would not have the life I have today. Everything happens for a reason right?
        
Reflection: In the article, "The Plot Sickens" by Fanny Howe, Fanny proposes that young contemporary writers conclude their stories with violence to the craziest extent due to their inability to find a rational solution to the very problem in which they created. In my "free-write", the only thing I accomplished was proving Fanny Howe to be completely and utterly correct. My story ends with the main characters wife getting kidnapped on Christmas Eve, and then she never comes back to them because the police are too preoccupied to help them out. I don't know if laziness or inability was the cause to my uncanny ending, but it is still not a good way to end my story. I need to find a rational solution to the problem I created for the main character and his family. It is actually kind of sad how young writers like myself are too naive to find an ending to a problem in which THEY created. Hopefully I can use this article to improve my writing and other students' too.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Self-Deprecation: Nobody's Perfect? Wrong.


            Its first period on a Monday morning and I am sitting in my seat in math. I am all the way to the left in the second row. We go through our new lesson and go over the quiz I failed last Thursday. I am already extremely annoyed due to my sub-subpar quiz grade and then we get assigned a new math homework which consists of 60 problems. I am distraught by the amount of homework I already have and its only first period! I guess when we were offered 15 minutes to start our homework I was stoked, but would I really benefit from it? It has been 5 minutes since we started and I have already re-written my heading 4 times yet everyone else is already on problem number 5. 10 minutes now and I am only on problem number 2…everyone else was on problem 12. Our 15 minutes is over and I only managed to complete a total of 4 problems while everyone else completed 17 because everything I write has to look perfect otherwise I have an anxiety attack.

            I am sitting at home trying to complete the mile high pile of homework that I have and then I look over on the couch next to me and see a pile of blankets. I really, really, really need to finish this homework so that I can get a good night sleep, but then look at those blankets. “No, keep working,” I tell myself but I can’t help it, something in the room is not absolutely perfect and I can’t take it anymore. 5 minutes later I have all of the couch pillows set and the blankets folded and I am ready to keep working on my homework. Yet, my need for perfection is still taking over my life because, all of my writing has to look perfect and that takes a while.

            The one thing I love the most besides my friends and family in this world is soccer. Yet my anxious personality and need for perfection can sometimes take over and ruin a game. We are up by 2 within the first 15 minutes which is great, but we are still not playing to perfection and I am starting to get aggravated with everyone including; the ref, my teammates, my coach. And most of all, myself. I start yelling at people and at the ref, “What are you doing? That was terrible, you’re ruining the game!” I am yelling at myself and smacking the turf. Keep in mind we are winning 4-0 right now, and I am still not satisfied because I only want perfection.

            How am I ever going to succeed and be happy with myself when perfection is the only thing that satisfies me because no one, or anything, is, or ever will be, perfect right? How am I supposed to live with myself if I can’t believe that I did something right? I guess I will try to find satisfaction with less than perfect eventually, but right now perfection is what I want and I will continue to strive for it.

            Hi, I bet you thought the essay was done, but it’s not perfect yet right? I know I am asking you a lot of questions as a reader, but you’re going to have to deal with it. I have come to realize that this essay is most likely not going to be perfect and I guess that’s okay. I am not entirely happy with my need for perfection because even though it is good to strive to be the best, almost all of the traits that it brings out in me are negative towards my personality, but that is me so deal with it right?

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

I Thought the Police Department Was Supposed to Help You: Open-ended Prompt

            It was Christmas Eve. Fog stuck to the tarmac at Lindbergh field. My family and I were getting ready to head out to New York City where we would stay in a hotel until New Year’s Eve. My wife and I had celebrated in New York before, but never with our two children. My son’s name was Jacob, my daughter’s name was Samantha, and my wife’s name was Janette. Our family had always had an amazing bond, and we could not wait to spend our favorite holiday together.

            It was 7:00 and our flight was coming up. 30 minutes until boarding time, and everything was going as planned. Next thing I knew, both of my children were tugging at my pants begging me to take them to the frozen yogurt shop down the hall, and of course their little puppy dog eyes were irresistible so I took them. My wife was sleeping in a chair near our gate so we left her there in peace.

            All three of us had our yogurt and we even got one for Janette. We were on our way back to the gate and everyone was in a good mood. When we got back to our gate Janette was nowhere to be found. At first, we assumed that she was in the bathroom, but she wasn’t. We waited and waited assuming that she would be back soon, but the fight was boarding and she never came back. We did not board the flight and we notified the police, but did they really care?


            Today is Christmas Eve 5 years later, and we still have no Janette. Where did she go?