Macbeth option 1

     The story begins with three hideous witches making conversation about when they will be together next. In the darkness with thunder and lightning in the air, the hags plan to engage Macbeth after the upcoming battle. On the battlefield Macbeth and Banquo fight valiantly against their Norwegian foe. This is observed by a Sergeant, who tells King Duncan of their efforts. King Duncan wishes to reward Macbeth’s heroism with a new title. He plans to give him the Thane Cawdor’s status. This was removed from the previous Thane of Cawdor, who betrayed the King. Unannounced to Macbeth, he his met by the three witches. They report to him that he will be Thane of Glamis, Thane of Cawdor and a soon to be king. They reveal to Banqou that he will be a lesser man but his kids will be rulers. Macbeth judges that they are insane because the Thane of Cawdor is still alive. The witches disappear and then surprisingly Ross declares that the King has given Macbeth the privilege of being Thane of Cawdor. He scribes a letter to his wife to inform her about the three witch’s prophecy and how the first two components of the prophecy have already has been proven true. When Lady Macbeth receives the letter she gets very ambitious and has the desire to slaughter Duncan so her spouse can claim his title. They then withdraw to the where Duncan has set up refuge from the elements. King Duncan awards his son Malcolm to be the ruler once he is buried six feet under. This makes Macbeth furious because it defies his fate. He writes a letter to his wife to tell of his unfortunate news and how the King will be visiting on the way through on his journey. A few days pass and Lady Macbeth receives the letter. After reading it her blood turns cold as a result she plans the assassination of Duncan. At first Macbeth refuses to commit this traitorous crime, the king was a kind and fair man. To make matters worse Duncan was not only his ruler but also his house guest. Committing murder would be going against double trusts. Lady Macbeth uses her feminine wiles and twists the idea in Macbeth’s head around until Macbeth finally agrees to butcher King Duncan. If Macbeth does, he still has the constant worry of killing Malcolm. This is the end of scene one.

     Macbeth is a very complex character. The thing he greatly exemplifies is ambition. Macbeth wants nothing more but to be king. He plans to move up the hierarchy to get the feeling of being   superior. Being in high society was very important in medieval times. To get to that next level, Macbeth has to do something that will judge his place in heaven.  Macbeth also feels underappreciated because Duncan should have pronounced him king because Macbeth believed that he would be a better ruler then Malcolm. Macbeth is brave and valiant because during the battle he never showed any signs of being fearful or letting his enemy get into his head. He never showed being tired from all the violence around him. Macbeth in some way has no emotion or in better words not regretful. He kills many soldiers of his enemy and has no remorse. That further brings the idea that he is patriotic at the beginning. The last character trait of Macbeth is that he is very affectionate towards his wife. He is willing to destroy Duncan so that she gets the life she deserves. These character traits make Macbeth, what it takes to be the main character of a story.

     It is a dark night with thunder crashing in the distance. Three sun baked prospectors sit around a bright campfire. They arrange to meet Deputy Marshall of t homestead Gem, on the evening after the battle against the Indians. Before they confront Marshall, they rummage through the belongings of the fallen. They find a few revolvers, a few pairs of boots and even a precious human scalp. On the other side of the battlefield, Marshall and Bryce fight heroically with pistols blazing. Indian corpse’s lay where they were cut down by this duo. All the Indian’s teepees are splattered with blood and Deputy Marshall continues on in his indigenous blood lust. A fellow deputy observes Marshall and Bryce fighting on the blood soaked field. He reports to Sherriff Dylan of their valiant efforts. A fellow deputy of the homestead Crooked Ridge has betrayed his fellow white brothers. He has his homestead taken away and this traitor is sent to the gallows for this disloyalty. It may have been the heat of the moment but Sheriff Dylan decides that for his effort, Marshall will receive the homestead on Crooked Ridge. Another Deputy goes off to present Deputy Marshall with the good news. To reach Marshall the Deputy has to go through hostile terrain which means he has to face the uncivilized Red Skins. Before the Deputy reaches his goal, Marshall is greeted by the three prospectors. With blood soaked hats that sit on their heads they glorify Marshall by calling him the Deputy of Gem, the Deputy of Crooked Ridge and the Sheriff of the town Infamy. This is confusing to Deputy Marshall because the deputy of Crooked Ridge is still alive fighting alongside his fellow Americans. Deputy Bryce learns of his own fortune and he finds out that he will be lesser then Marshall but his kids will be great leaders.  A chuck wagon drives by and behind it a storm of dust. Once the dust clears the deputy’s realize that there eerie prophets have disappeared. Marshall and Bryce are then approached by the deputy bearing Marshall’s promotion. After receiving the information the deputies’ head to where Sheriff Dylan has made his accommodations. Marshall decides to send a letter to his saloon girl wife. Upon receiving the news of Marshall’s promotion and of the coming true of the prospector’s prophecy, Lady Marshall becomes very ambitious. Lady Marshall aspires for is a bullet to placed in Sheriff Dylan’s head. All the deputies meet at the Sheriff’s tent and discuss who deserves to be the next Sheriff. Overhearing their conversation, Sheriff Dylan proudly announces to his men that his son Monty will be next in line to obtain the Sheriff status. Afterwards, the Sheriff asks Deputy Marshall if he (Sheriff Dylan) can stay in his homestead for a night on his journey to hunt down the Moonsing Kid. When everyone starts to disperse Deputy Marshall heads off by himself on his noble steed. He angrily thinks to himself that he rightfully deserves to be Sheriff. The only thing Sheriff Dylan’s son has gunned down was coyotes trying to steal hens.  Deputy Marshall heads to the nearest post stand to send another message to his beloved wife. It is pitch black outside and the only light he has is that of a lantern that that hangs from his belt. The letter simply tells of Marshall’s predicament and that Sheriff Dylan and his posse will be staying at their (Marshall’s) homestead for an evening. An idea starts to particulate in Lady Marshall’s head. She desires her husband to massacre the sheriff in his sleep so that Marshall can be sheriff. When Marshall first hears of the plot he firmly disagrees with his wife. The main factor why Marshall won’t kill Sheriff Dylan is because he doesn’t want to be a murderer who kills the innocent. Lady Marshall turns on her feminine charms and convinces him otherwise. To be sheriff, Deputy Marshall will not only have to kill just Dylan but also his son Monty. To become sheriff, Marshall will have to become a person he swore to fight against. He will have to become an outlaw!  

Manson And Macbeth

Manson and Macbeth

How did histories most notorious cult leader become connected to Shakespeare’s goriest play? There is one man who put these two things together. That man is director Roman Polanski.

To get a better understanding of Roman Polanski's involvement, you require some information on Charles Manson. Charles Manson was born with no name. It took a few weeks for him to actually be given the name Charles. His mother was a lady of the night so Manson never met his father. To make matters worse his teenage mother spent most of her life in jail. This led young Charles into a life of crime.  At the age of about thirteen he committed crimes such as car theft and armed robbery. After two different prison sentences, Manson appeared in San Francisco in 1967. This was the Summer of Love and Manson planned to take advantage of it. He had a way with the ladies so he used it. His followers were the outcasts of society and the victims of parental abandonment.  Father Manson was the answer to all their prayers. He promised them a family and the belief of free love. In 1968 he moved his alleged family to a dude ranch in Los Angeles called Spahn ranch. This ranch was used for western movie sets and was isolated from preying eyes. This is where Manson set up his cult against the United States.  It is important to mention that Manson was a strong believer in the power of music.  He even started a band, with himself as the lead and his followers as back up. He had many music producers come to observe his band at the ranch.  There was one producer who broke the camel’s back and that man was Terry Melcher. Melcher had no interest in recording one of Charles Manson’s songs. Manson didn’t take to kindly to criticism and he was exhausted of having record producers reject his music. For the time being, Manson had taken it quite well but has time wore on and no one was signing him something changed him. He keyed on to one individual for all his failure and he was destined to find him and seek his revenge. Manson found Melcher’s address and went out to find the tormentor of his soul. To his shock, Melcher had moved in the fear of Manson's wrath.  The new residents had no intention on telling this physcopath were he moved. The lady of the house was the pregnant actress Sharon Tate. The outraged Manson, put his second aspiration into motion instead. He constantly believed that God had chosen him to be the savior of Los Angeles.  His alleged prophecy was to start an apocalyptic in proportion conflict between the black and the whites of the Los Angeles area.  To fulfill his prophecy he would have to murder the innocent, leaving the blacks to be racially blamed. He gave this operation the name “Heleter Skeletor” in the honour of Beatles’ song in their “White Album.” Victims of this operation were mainly couples but the world renowned victims were those who were in the Tate house.  Sharon Tate and four of her companions were stabbed and shot continually until they lay limp in a bloody pulp. Manson never actually committed or even witnessed any of theses murders. They were completed be his faithful followers. It is common information that Manson had marijuana and other drugs at the ranch which he gave to his false sons and daughters. This may have turned their brains into mush but this was not Manson's main weapon he used in convincing people. Charles Mansion was a powerful speaker like Hitler and instead of threats he used words to put his followers into his trance.  He made his Family believe that what they were doing was for the better of the world. Then, how is Roman Polanski related to Charles Manson?

Roman Polanski was away in Europe directing a movie when these incidents occurred. His wife fell victim  to one of the attacks. Roman Polanski was married to Sharon Tate. Polanski rushed home once he received the news.What he witnessed when he came home was something that would make the strongest man ill to his stomach. He came to his beloved home that was now in tatters. There was blood on the curtains and blood in pools on the floor.  With the word pig on the kitchen door written in Sharon Tate’s blood. What may have made this the most painful thing to polanski was knowing that his unborn son would never have a life. All of Polanski’s aspirations were long gone. He had lost everything that mattered in his life. He expressed his feelings in the only way he could, through film. Even when Manson was incarcerated for life (originally death penalty) in 1968, Roman Polanski was still depressed. His first film after the murders was Macbeth. It was a very gruesome movie for that time era.  Manson probably inspired Polanski to create a character who truly was a physcopathic and ambitious war lord. This character was probably fulfilling his quest because that is what a greater being told him to do. Every gruesome scene in that movie was inspired by his wife and his unborn son lying in Sharon’s blood on the floor. That memory is probably what haunts Roman Polanski to this very day.

Conclusion to Taxi Ride

Running Bear lay slumped over in his seat, with blood gushing out of his head.  Mr. Smith sat there with a gleam of rage in his eyes. He didn’t move as if he was paralyzed.  Had I killed both of these men? Then Mr. Smith pulled up his hands to get a good look at them. They were drenched in Running Bear’s blood. That was when I noticed the cracked window. I can only assume that Mr. Smith was fed up with Running Bear’s antics so he decided to get rid of him. Mr. Smith stared at me and sloppily dragged the body outside with him. I tried urgently to phone the police but to no avail. The trees were blocking the signal. With gun in hand (which cabbies are now required to have) I left the taxi to try to find Mr. Smith. I found him hunched over Running Bear’s body near the river. He was mumbling a few words that I could not make out . There was a little flash and then Running Bear burst into flames. In a few seconds he was completely engulfed by is firery foe. Mr. Smith strolled towards me and in a monotone voice told me to get back in the cab. Once we were both in the cab Mr. Smith offered me a proposition. In return for my silence about this event he would give me free gas for a lifetime and money for a new cab. I would have to destroy the evidence which remained of Running Bear. My fantasy was coming true. The rest of the ride was uneventful.  I pulled to a stop outside the motel. As Mr. Smith was getting out of the taxi he hissed one thing “Tell anyone about this and my friends at the oil company will make sure you and your family will be erased from the grid”. With that last warning Mr. Smith disappeared into luxurious motel. I started to wonder if Mr Smith was going to be praised once he returned to work. Why did I care? Then a thought hit me. Maybe I would be better driving in a funeral procession, giving rides to the already dead instead of having passengers die during their ride.

Taxi Ride Part 1 (1 hour)

  The weather is brewing outside and I have a feeling I am in for a dreary night.  My job makes me desire gauging my eyes out with a spoon that has been through the garberator instead. I am a professional transport expert or in layman's terms a cab driver. You may think it is a slack job, sadly you’re mistaken. Having to ask people constantly and repeatedly the same questions over and over again is riding on my last nerve. Where are you from? What do you do for a living? Like a really care. I should get a Hurst and drive corpses around. At least you don’t have to talk to the deceased. If you do you should probably be in the loony bin. Every day it’s the same protocol.  Another day of this torture and I may have to drive this automobile off a pier after lighting it on fire. Sadly I cannot.  My family is very desperate.  I have two adolescent kids at home. The mother of my children works for an exotic dance club to pay off are monstrous bills. To add on top of all this woe, she is expecting. I don’t even know if the kid is mine. Another child means a whole lot more responsibilities.  That is why I cannot quit as much as like to. That is why I have to shuttle scientist to and from their convention on this depressing night.

I arrived and strangely the place is deserted. There is only me and two men under the city's streetlights. One looks like an uptight business man. He is wearing a luxurious black tuxedo along with a silk tie. He was cleanly shaven and you could tell he made an effort to stay that way. The man with him was quite the opposite. He wore a tied dyed shirt with extremely baggy pants. He had beads of every colour within his shaggy mane including some that he placed in his matted beard.  The suit got in but the hippie just sat outside starring into the dark abyss. As his looks insinuated the man that was already in the cab asked the other to join him. The hippie said nothing for a few seconds and then agreed to come with us. Surprisingly, they both were staying in a little motel outside of town in the local woods. The smells of the two men intermingled. I assumed that the suit was giving off the smell of aftershave and what seemed to be perfume. While the other man smelt of earth and pot.  It stung my nose hairs. I finally asked them “what do you gentlemen do for a living?” I puked in my mouth a little. Mr Smith (the man in the suit) answered my question first. He had invented a mighty drill for a major oil company. The drill could locate oil sands and drill in half the time of other drills. Running Bear (the hippie) on the other hand invented a way to reduce oil consumption in half. Mr Smith gave Running Bear a humorous glance.  Running Bear didn’t take to kindly to his fellow passenger’s remark. He re bottled by playing with Mr. Smith's tie and harassing him for being a pansy. Mr Smith's face was starting to change into many shades of red. He angrily asked Running Bear to stop but Running Bears taunt attack only continued. I looked away and turned on the music. After so many years in the cab business, I was getting tired of having to listen to people’s petty problems. All of a sudden there was a deafening crunch and then silence. I stopped the cab and slowly turned around.

Journal Entry 1 Night

 The story "Night" tells of a boy name Eliezer, who lives during the Holocaust. The characters in the book had lost the "instinct of self preservation, of self defense, of pride" (pg 36) during their first day in Aushwitz. This is very true when you love something and it is gone forever. Whenever you lose someone to the clutches of the death, friends or family of the victim become phantoms themselves.  For example, when my grandfather left us, I felt very insecure. When he died, my eyes would let out a continuous stream of tears and the pain of him being gone would not disperse. I obtained a new fear in those few days. It was the fear of death. Another thing that happens, when you loose someone you love is all your instincts stop cold in their tracks. You have the feeling of being numb. No matter what anyone says, it has no affect on you. You get the sense that retaliating won't do anything. It won't change a thing if you fightback so you remain a non-emotional zombie. The last thing you loose when someone dies is your pride. When a loved one dies you experience dread. With the increase of dread your head drops a few inches. You may no longer boast about sports or anything because boasting won't bring that person back. You especially, lose hope when the doctors tell you that nothing can be done, the person can say their goodbyes and then its curtains. A horrible loss of pride that I experienced and  the people of "Night " may have witnessed was the loss of religion. When my Grandpa died I continually asked one of the big questions. Why did God choose him and not someone else? I never came to a conclusion and I may never. One thing is for certain, you lose a lot of pride.Some are affected more seriously then others. Many may turn into lost souls that are shrouded by gloom. Never to show their intuition or even talk for a lengthy time. While others during that time are the opposite. There is no happiness in people who cherished the deceased. The main reason of all this misery, is never going to be able see that person again and relive your fondness memories with them. It makes you wonder how much longer you will have until you have to take up a permanent residence in a wooden box. Will it be in 50 years or maybe this afternoon. God has a plan and only he knows when it happens.This was probably going through Eliezer and all the Jew's heads. For example, I witnessed God's plan when my first dog died. My dog was old but still in applicable health. One morning she went into an open lot that was next door. This was very unusual for her to go over to this open field by herself. A half an hour passed and my father went to search for our dog. He found her in the gaping jaws of two coyotes. It was too late. She was in a extreme amount of pain so she had to be put down. It is very bizarre because on almost every other morning she never wandered over there. Was it an animal instinct or just God telling her that her time was up. Everyone  has a expiry date on earth. The only thing that matters is making the most of your life with no regrets before you meet your fate.

Moral Dilema

     You may think I am crazy but I know I made the right decision. I chose to save the 92 year old Ada Artlover on the afternoon of the fire in the Louvre. To start with, I saved her because she has a family. To lose a family member is a tragedy.  It makes the loved ones of the deceased feel unstable. To further prove my point, I made friends with this woman that afternoon. I had a better connection with a real human being instead of an old painting. Secondly, I saved Mrs. Artlover because if I tried to take the painting off the wall. Alarms would most likely go off.  If I tried to leave the Louvre with the painting in my hands. People would assume I was stealing the painting and I would then be thrown into one of your french prisons. Where I would rot for eternity. Another reason, why I saved Ada Artlover is because the painting would have been fine in the fire. National treasures are protected with great security. If I didn't rescue the painting, a security guard would. Furthermore, the most superior artifacts are contained in special cases that are top of the line in protection. The case that the Mona Lisa is in is probably fireproof and most likely bulletproof. Heck, it might not even be the real Mona Lisa on display. It probably is a fake for the public to view. Big Museums and Art Galleries put their most valuable artifacts in their archives so common people won't harm them. If it is real, it is probably contained in the case I mentioned earlier. A different reason, why I saved Ada Artlover is because I couldn't live with myself knowing that I saved the painting and not that old woman. I would have lots of guilt and lose so much sleep. I would most likely have nightmares, where I would see the old woman burning in the fire's abyss because I didn't save her. The last reason, why I saved Ada Artlover and not the painting is because if the Mona Lisa was burned it would be considered legendary. Almost all of the 7 Wonders of the Ancient World were destroyed. If the Mona Lisa was destroyed, it may reach the status of a Wonder of the Modern World. Even if the Mona Lisa didn't burn, it would get lots of publicity for being a painting that survived a fire in the Louvre. I would probably save the Mona Lisa if she was a real woman but she isn't. That is why I took the moral high ground and saved Mrs.Artlover.

Just a Regular Day on the Job

    It is starting to get dark now. Jim and I have been out in the woods since five this morning, searching for any sign of a bear. The bears in Clear Water are more of a nuisance rather than a pest. The bear we are looking for (B153) is a different story. This bear is intelligent and on more then one occasion he has been able to escape an inevitable capture. Most of the time, animal control doesn’t send their men into the front line of bear territory but B153 is the only exception. This bear originally only attacked cats and dogs but a week ago a young child was saved from it’s jaws of death. I guess man is to blame, the shortages of food has led a lot of the bears to desperation. What is done is done, this bear must meet its end.

     Jim is starting to complain that his feet are burning from blisters he has obtained from today’s trek. We decide to stop by a beautiful waterfall that we have come across. The water lightly falls from above and plummets to the gnarl of rocks below. The sound of thunder radiates from the falls and throughout the valley. Jim decides to sit on a rock in front of a berry bush. While we rest, me and him start to talk on how our family’s are doing. Throughout the day, Jim and I have been silent like the dead. Now, we are more like wolves howling at the moon. Then, there is a rustle in the bush behind Jim. We become silent again. The look on Jim’s face is one that I have never seen before, fear. Even when I got in a car accident with him, I never saw that face. Behind him the noise escalates as the creature gets closer to where we now stand on full alert. Our guns are loaded in anticipation of the bear’s arrival. As if a Jack in a Box, out pops a little squirrel from the darkness of the bush. Jim stares at the tiny critter and just laughs. He jokingly brings the gun to the squirrel’s head and continues to laugh. All of a sudden, there is a loud thump followed by splashes on the other side of the river.

     There he is B153, charging us as if he were a bull and we were the color red. Jim is so bewildered, that he shoots a mile from where the bear is. The bear decides to go directly at Jim now. B153 with his great powerful paws rips the gun away from Jim before he can reload. With the other paw he pierces Jim’s skin on his right forearm. Sensing that Jim was no longer a threat the bear turns toward me. I am frozen with fear so the bear takes advantage of that. It rips my gun away and throws me to the ground. The bear is on top of me with is mighty mouth opened wide. The bears breath reeks of fish with a hint of berry. In the distance, I hear gun shots. The bear is startled by the noise and gets off of me.  A few seconds later I feel the splatter of blood on my face. At first, I think the bear had gone back for Jim and he was using Jim as a human chew toy. I roll over in total astonishment to see that B153 has a huge gauge of skin missing on the left side of it’s face. The bear’s bellowing overpowers the sound of the falls. The bear grunts then leaves the scene. I am overcome by darkness.

    I am awoken by drops of water being pored on my face. I try to piece everything together. My memory comes flooding back to my like the water on my face. The first thing I do is wash the remnants of the blood off my face. Keeping my eyes closed, so I don’t get any of the blood in my sensitive eyes. Once I open my eyes, I see a hairy man hovering over me. At first I thought I was still staring at the bear. He smelt earthy and was dressed from head to toe in fur. I could tell that he had been in the woods for awhile because of his hygiene and lack of teeth. He spoke in grunts asking if I was alright and what on earth Jim and I were doing. While I was out the man bandaged Jim up with a pelt Band-Aid to stop the bleeding. He told us how to get back into the city and warned us that the bear was possessed by an evil spirit. Jim and I did not want to insult our savior so we did not argue. We expressed our gratitude and headed in the direction towards town. Jim started to laugh and pulled a claw out of his pocket, it was drenched in his own blood. In a low monotone voice Jim said “got him”.

Blog Choice: Rant Against My Leg

   I hate injuries. A few months ago, I hurt something in my leg during a lacrosse game. I had to put on so much A535, that I smelled like a candy cane factory. The pain just won’t go away. Whenever I get up in the morning, I pretty much just fall out of bed.  Then I have to take a whole bunch of Advil to make it through the day. Hopefully, I won’t OD on the stuff. Putting on my socks is just murder. I fell like just ripping off my legs and sticking the stupid socks on. To make matters worse during school whenever I get up, I almost fall on my face. Don’t even get me started on trying to walk. I walk as if I am that stereotypical old Oriental man in movies. While at other times, I walk in lurches like that drunk guy who is always outside the liquor store. The treatments, oh the treatments are no fun at all. Getting a massage was okay. Going to the Chiropractor, not as much fun. When the guy cracks your back it feels so weird. Then there is Physiotherapy.  It kind of works but every time he puts a pin in my leg, I feel worse the next day.  I have to roll my leg with a Styrofoam cylinder every day too. What is my leg a slab of cookie dough? Physiotherapy is by far the best release of pain though. I hope one day my leg fells better so I can play sports properly and do whatever I please without my leg hurting.

Top #3 Products That Change Your Tongues Colour

     The top three products that change your colour of your tongue is Gatorade, Popsicle Pete popsicles and Skittles. Before experimentation begins our experimental tongue’s pigment will be checked, so that each experimental tongue will have the same pigment. Then the same amount of product will be added to the same tongue colour. The products used, will be the same shade of colour. We are testing how much the colour of the tongue has changed since its original colour. Furthermore, we will test how your taste buds are affected by each product. Another form of testing is how well the colour of your tongue affects the colour of your saliva. The final test is seeing how long it takes the tongue to change back to its original colour.

     #3 Skittles

    Skittles change your tongues colour piece by piece. When the candies are crunched small fragments of the candy may stay on your tongue. These fragments leave splotchy marks on your tongue. If they are sour skittles they affect your taste buds majorly. Skittles are not as far up as they should be because skittles can just be swallowed and may never make contact with the tongue.

#2 Popsicles

   Popsicles are good on a hot day but not for a hot date. Theses little guys turn your tongue a darkish colour. As the Popsicle slowly melts in your mouth the colour seeps into your tongue. Added when you lick a Popsicle, the colour is rubbed against your tongue leaving its imprint.  This colour lasts for quite a while.

#1 Gatorade

     The number one cause of colour changing of the human tongue is Gatorade. This stuff is like bleach for the tongue. When Gatorade is drunk the liquid stains your tongue and teeth. This colour lasts for hours no matter how much you brush your teeth. When Gatorade is drunk, the Gatorade just sits in your mouth and your tongue absorbs the liquid. Gatorade is probably able to change your tongue colour so much because the electrolytes have an affect on your tongue

Those are what I consider the top #3 things that stain your tongue.

Historical Moment

     It is 1662 in Salem, Massachusetts. The witch trials have just begun. I know what I have to do. The past must be changed for a better future.

     It was a bright morning but there was a brisk cold breeze in the town of Salem. The leaves were a vibrant green. Down by the river the town’s people were meeting to discuss an incident that occurred the previous night. A young child was found in a field shaking like she was possessed by a demon. All the villagers were crowded around a young woman. The woman was covered in dirt, from laying in the streets. Her hair was black like a starless night. The woman was allegedly found a block down from where the incident occurred. This poor woman was considered by the townsfolk an outcast of society. The child’s parents were at the centre of the arguing. The argument increased, which eventually led to false blaming against the woman. Someone said that there fields were not plentiful because of the woman, while another blamed her for the death his cow. I just stood and watched, leaning against a nearby house as the events unfolded. The only sound I payed attention to was the crash of water on the rocks in the river.  The townsfolk finally had enough and brought the woman to the Court of Oyer (witchcraft court), where she was convicted of being a witch. She was to be hung with four other women that afternoon on July 19, 1662 on Gallow Hill. The woman’s name was Sarah Good.

     When the clock struck four, I made my way to Gallow Hill and to that dreadful tree. If I did not do anything there would be five lifeless bodies hanging from that tree. Once I arrived I chose my hiding spot. The women then arrived and were placed around the tree. As the first women’s stool was about to be kicked out from under her, I made my move. I jumped from my hiding place in that big tree and cut each woman out of their noose.  All of a sudden everyone’s attention turned to me. Someone screamed out, “He is a witch.” I managed to steal five horses and send the five women on their way. While I had a mob of frightened citizens hot on my tail. I ran into the nearby forest to where my getaway to the future awaited me. My way back to the future was a Mustang, sorry Michael J. Fox I ride in style. Finally, when the townsfolk arrived at my car, they just stood there stunned. Someone exclaimed, “He really is a witch” and then the villagers tried to destroy my car. Lucky enough I made it out of there in no time or I would have been toast.

     When I got back to future I was surprised to find the air was fresh, no war planes overhead, everything was just peaceful. I thought I must have done something right so I went to our town’s library and looked up Sarah Good. I found out that Ms.Good had a child and so her family tree went on. One of her descendants had found a cure for all kinds of cancer, while another had found a way to prevent global warming. The most impressive of her descendants was the one that was still living.  Ms. Good’s descendant had a powerful presence of the UN and had helped create world peace. The future can be however you want it to be, so do the best you can and have a good life.