a fictional response to Skullduggery by Kathleen Karr
Author's Note: This book is about people that go around digging up skulls for science, but somebody had been going after full freshly dead bodies and following the main character. This is from the point of view of Gin. He is Matthew Moriessey's dog. This is the fight sence from the book, but this time its from Gin's point of view.
How much stupider can you get, I thought to myself. Matthew, my master, had just attacked a body snatcher that is much bigger than him. Plus Matthew had no weapon. He did. As soon as Matthew left our hiding place sprinting I knew that it wouldn't end well. I have to protect my master at all costs. Its time to see what dogs can do.
"NO!!!!," I screamed at the top of my lungs, but it only came out as "WOOF! Woof woof woof!" By now, Matthew was closing in on the body snatcher, and the body snatcher had seen him. Matthew was very ill prepared compared to the body snatcher who had a knife and a full bottle of gin. Ironic? I think so. Anyways, Matthew had come to the body snatcher and head-butted him. While running full speed. He had caught the body snatcher off guard, but the body snatcher’s arms had come in on impact. Carrying a knife. Right into Matthew’s head. I had to defend my injured master. It’s a good thing that the body snatcher wasn’t expecting a dog, so I caught him unprepared, and never let up. I nearly had his knife arm for breakfast, and I would’ve if the police hadn’t shown up.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
A Wealth of Knowledge
a poetic response to Skullduggery by Kathleen Karr
Used every day for the simplest things
Heads
Always working
Brains
It makes you you
Personality
Many would lose it if it wasn't attached
Heads
Used every second until death
Brains
Separated you from the world
Personality
Scientifically dug up
Heads
Bulge and need space
Brains
Bulges indicate
Personality
All of the above
Phrenology
The adventure that it entails
Skullduggery
Used every day for the simplest things
Heads
Always working
Brains
It makes you you
Personality
Many would lose it if it wasn't attached
Heads
Used every second until death
Brains
Separated you from the world
Personality
Scientifically dug up
Heads
Bulge and need space
Brains
Bulges indicate
Personality
All of the above
Phrenology
The adventure that it entails
Skullduggery
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Nature's Beauty and Significance
Authors Note: I wrote this to show the natural beauty that happens every year and is just taken for granted. I also wanted to show it in a very relaxed environment.
Today I had my last football game of the season. Even though we had the conditioning czar it was an enjoyable season. In late autumn most of the trees are bare or orange. Besides the evergreens that is because, well the name kind of explains that. Coming off of a huge blow out of the Oconomowoc Coonies I was ecstatic. As awesome as the game was I was bummed because my dad is the worst person at finding open parking spots. EVER! We had to walk a mile, literally, but I thought might as well enjoy it.
I was looking closely at both the world around me and inside. As the light shone through the parting clouds it highlighted the orange glow of the maple leaves as they gently dropped off the tree to the ground cushioned by the cutting fall breeze as winter comes to turn orange, white. I knew that we must savor what is left here. What is here now. We must pass this picture of perfection to those near and around us. Tell all, show all what is needed in life for it to be worth living and complete. We are called by an unknown force to this one spot. This one moment. It must show us that the earth our home, the one which we are destroying, taking it past its prime, has promise. Once again we gather together in honor of the earth and its natural cycles. Realizing how insignificant we really are. We are but a speck of dust floating around in this never ending region of hope we call the universe, but while we have free will use it to every extent.
Today I had my last football game of the season. Even though we had the conditioning czar it was an enjoyable season. In late autumn most of the trees are bare or orange. Besides the evergreens that is because, well the name kind of explains that. Coming off of a huge blow out of the Oconomowoc Coonies I was ecstatic. As awesome as the game was I was bummed because my dad is the worst person at finding open parking spots. EVER! We had to walk a mile, literally, but I thought might as well enjoy it.
I was looking closely at both the world around me and inside. As the light shone through the parting clouds it highlighted the orange glow of the maple leaves as they gently dropped off the tree to the ground cushioned by the cutting fall breeze as winter comes to turn orange, white. I knew that we must savor what is left here. What is here now. We must pass this picture of perfection to those near and around us. Tell all, show all what is needed in life for it to be worth living and complete. We are called by an unknown force to this one spot. This one moment. It must show us that the earth our home, the one which we are destroying, taking it past its prime, has promise. Once again we gather together in honor of the earth and its natural cycles. Realizing how insignificant we really are. We are but a speck of dust floating around in this never ending region of hope we call the universe, but while we have free will use it to every extent.
Friday, March 12, 2010
A Romantic Vacation of Sorts
Author's Note: I wrote this as an expansion of a stream of consciousness. It is fiction, but it has some of the qualities my real family has. Even with all of those, there are many that are very unrealistic about my family.
Many may see my life as perfect. I see it as being no where near. I may live in the biggest house in Maine, but that's not a big accomplishment. I have to please everybody. With my dad being governor I am supposed to be a role model for all of the children of Maine. I try to please my sports coaches, my teachers, my parents, the whole country, and most difficult of all, my friends. I don't even know which ones are my true friends or if they just endure my company to get to my dad. It is a stressful life I lead, and I was really looking forward to spring break. Me, my sister, my mom and unfortunately my dad were going to Hawaii.
My mom, being the freak that she is, booked us on a six AM flight out of Augusta to Oahu, but that isn't even the bad part. We had to get there at three. On a Saturday. Which means waking up at one-thirty. On the first day of spring break. The first time I heard the news I was heart broken. The flight was uneventful. I'm not sure if this is because it was just a boring flight or that I was unconscious for the vast majority of it.
When we landed I could actually feel a weight lifted off of my shoulders in the from of a refreshing Hawaiian breeze. It made me feel like I could do anything. After my rest on the way in I was as alert as possible not wanting to miss even one little detail. I knew this was going to be a great trip. The rest of the day was about as uneventful as the plane ride in, but I knew that the following days would be anything but boring.
Going in I had no idea of our itinerary, but I learned we would be going to the beach. I find it amazing what a few years of very menial Spanish classes can do. When we got to the beach we couldn't wait to go swimming, but my sister, being the pain she is, decided she needed some food first. Then my parents while thinking about it decided they did too. Am I the only sane person in my family? Anyways, instead of going with them to eat my parents said that I could stay back, so as soon as I heard that I sprinted into the water so they couldn't change their mind.
I had a great time jumping over waves and going for a leisurely oceanic swim. I knew the day was dwindling and I hadn't seen head nor hide of my family since when they went to get food so I didn't know what happened, but I didn't care I had a change of clothes and enough money for a cab ride back. I knew I would eventually need to go back, but how many times do you ever get to watch a Hawaiian sunset uninterrupted.
As I sat there on those snow white, glimmering beaches watching the ebb and flow of the soft, quiet, and calming waves, along with the most beautiful sunset ever to be witnessed on the face of Earth. It was here I came to realize that I live a lie. I say things that I really don't believe. I'm not what I say I am, yet I'm happy with myself. Is this because I say and live it so much it has become me and I cannot find the true me, or is it the fact that I have no idea how to just simply relax and be me? Then the waves crashed one more time wetting my feet in their comforting embrace then they let go just as suddenly, and I found in myself that I am the exact person I want to be. That has brought me the most inner peace than I have felt in a very long time.
As self centering as being on a beach can be all great things must come to an end. After that day I never thought of myself the same again, but everybody else saw me as the me they always saw. The rest of vacation was paled in comparison to that single day. I wouldn't change anything I did even if I got the chance.
Many may see my life as perfect. I see it as being no where near. I may live in the biggest house in Maine, but that's not a big accomplishment. I have to please everybody. With my dad being governor I am supposed to be a role model for all of the children of Maine. I try to please my sports coaches, my teachers, my parents, the whole country, and most difficult of all, my friends. I don't even know which ones are my true friends or if they just endure my company to get to my dad. It is a stressful life I lead, and I was really looking forward to spring break. Me, my sister, my mom and unfortunately my dad were going to Hawaii.
My mom, being the freak that she is, booked us on a six AM flight out of Augusta to Oahu, but that isn't even the bad part. We had to get there at three. On a Saturday. Which means waking up at one-thirty. On the first day of spring break. The first time I heard the news I was heart broken. The flight was uneventful. I'm not sure if this is because it was just a boring flight or that I was unconscious for the vast majority of it.
When we landed I could actually feel a weight lifted off of my shoulders in the from of a refreshing Hawaiian breeze. It made me feel like I could do anything. After my rest on the way in I was as alert as possible not wanting to miss even one little detail. I knew this was going to be a great trip. The rest of the day was about as uneventful as the plane ride in, but I knew that the following days would be anything but boring.
Going in I had no idea of our itinerary, but I learned we would be going to the beach. I find it amazing what a few years of very menial Spanish classes can do. When we got to the beach we couldn't wait to go swimming, but my sister, being the pain she is, decided she needed some food first. Then my parents while thinking about it decided they did too. Am I the only sane person in my family? Anyways, instead of going with them to eat my parents said that I could stay back, so as soon as I heard that I sprinted into the water so they couldn't change their mind.
I had a great time jumping over waves and going for a leisurely oceanic swim. I knew the day was dwindling and I hadn't seen head nor hide of my family since when they went to get food so I didn't know what happened, but I didn't care I had a change of clothes and enough money for a cab ride back. I knew I would eventually need to go back, but how many times do you ever get to watch a Hawaiian sunset uninterrupted.
As I sat there on those snow white, glimmering beaches watching the ebb and flow of the soft, quiet, and calming waves, along with the most beautiful sunset ever to be witnessed on the face of Earth. It was here I came to realize that I live a lie. I say things that I really don't believe. I'm not what I say I am, yet I'm happy with myself. Is this because I say and live it so much it has become me and I cannot find the true me, or is it the fact that I have no idea how to just simply relax and be me? Then the waves crashed one more time wetting my feet in their comforting embrace then they let go just as suddenly, and I found in myself that I am the exact person I want to be. That has brought me the most inner peace than I have felt in a very long time.
As self centering as being on a beach can be all great things must come to an end. After that day I never thought of myself the same again, but everybody else saw me as the me they always saw. The rest of vacation was paled in comparison to that single day. I wouldn't change anything I did even if I got the chance.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
An Ironic Journal
Author's Note: For this post I just expanded one of my journal entries into a very farfetched story of how something like that could've happened, but I really wanted to expand on it and this is the only idea I got.
June 23, 1993, 10 AM
I'm as nervous as one could ever be. The past weeks have been a roller coaster of which I could never get off. It began with me being a homeless beggar on the lowly streets of Chicago. When I saw posters for a job with high pay and tons of glory, but only after I received the job did I realize it meant being a crew hand on a trek to the north pole. Me and my fourteen crew mates are scared out of our mind and with a slave driver as a captain none of us believe we will see civilization again. The only redeeming quality is a bunch of time with twenty huskies.
June 30, 1993, noon
As we see land we all prepare the dogs and carry as much gear as we need on our backs and all that we can onto the dogs. The tension in the air could be cut with a butter knife at this point. Many of the crew believe we have over packed the dogs and that they will find it too hard to bear very soon.
July 4, 1993, 2 PM
Being from Chicago I always look forward to the 4th of July because the Cubs usually play and there are hot dogs everywhere. I love it, but this one was different. I am in the midst of the longest most boring journey ever. Already we have had to slaughter two crew mates and one dog for food. If it had not been for fear of starvation setting in I would have refused to eat it but I need strength.
July 7, 1993, 6 PM
This is the first time that I've had the opportunity to write. I wonder how the Cubs are doing? I know its a weird thing to think about but its the only thing that keeps me sane. Since I last wrote we have killed two more dogs and three crew members. Every time I think I'm next. That thought makes me work as hard as I do, for I have noticed that the weaker slackers get killed.
July 10, 1993, 7 PM
I'm still here, but two dogs and the captain aren't. We needed food and a change of leadership so we decided to do those at the same time. The captain was driving us too hard which is what led us to needing more food, so we believe that now we could save more animals and people by going at a slower pace.
July 12, 1993, 6 PM
Our tactic didn't work we are down three more dogs but no more crew. Today we finally reached the pole but now the trek back is the hard part. It turns out that we made the journey in twelve days.
July 14, 1993, 1 AM
Now our pace is as hectic as ever to get back, but in the scramble one of our dogs broke the frozen harness and ran into the wintry wilderness. As we hope to get to our ship we are unsure of our direction because we fear that the distance between the geographical and magnetic north poles differ enough to throw our course off.
July 18, 1993, midnight
Our fast pace has taken a toll on the remaining five crew members and eight dogs. WE have lost some due to the cold and some to malnutrition and some to keep the rest of us alive. We still have no idea of our direction or distance to the sea.
July 18, 1993, 3:30 PM
I believe that we are close to the sea, but this knowledge came at a great expense to our expedition. A tragedy even, as we were trekking some ice fell through and took 3 men to hypothermia and 7 dogs were never to be seen again.
July 19, 1993, 1 PM
I had to kill the other men because our hunger was too great to keep and the food supply would barely last anytime with three hungry stomachs so we have to continue with two.
July 20, 1993, 2 PM
My last dog ran with my sled because after I had unloaded the sled he got impatient and i had no chance, being physically and mentally exhausted. Now I have no chance of surviving. I can last a maximum of 1 week if rationing my supplies to a bare minimum.
July 22, 1993, 1 AM
I knew I had no chance of surviving so I decided to have a feast and burn all of my resources at once.
July 22, 1993, 2 PM
Snow, I see it falling endlessly day after day, driving me blind with white. Although so bright and giving I am trapped in darkness and despair waiting for the sad lonesome creature that is starvation to set in. As I lay motionless in the snow I see movement on the horizon, I muster all of the strength I have left in my body and chase it. Then as I finally catch up with it I talk to the musher and we sit for a drink of melted snow. We have a fine time then as he packs up I ask to come with and I get shunned, for he is just a figment of my imagination so gracefully passing me by. So with all the hope that has come with the day it ends as it started in despair and hopelessness, with me laying on the ground, starving, with snow. That is the way it has always been, is now, and will always be.
June 23, 1993, 10 AM
I'm as nervous as one could ever be. The past weeks have been a roller coaster of which I could never get off. It began with me being a homeless beggar on the lowly streets of Chicago. When I saw posters for a job with high pay and tons of glory, but only after I received the job did I realize it meant being a crew hand on a trek to the north pole. Me and my fourteen crew mates are scared out of our mind and with a slave driver as a captain none of us believe we will see civilization again. The only redeeming quality is a bunch of time with twenty huskies.
June 30, 1993, noon
As we see land we all prepare the dogs and carry as much gear as we need on our backs and all that we can onto the dogs. The tension in the air could be cut with a butter knife at this point. Many of the crew believe we have over packed the dogs and that they will find it too hard to bear very soon.
July 4, 1993, 2 PM
Being from Chicago I always look forward to the 4th of July because the Cubs usually play and there are hot dogs everywhere. I love it, but this one was different. I am in the midst of the longest most boring journey ever. Already we have had to slaughter two crew mates and one dog for food. If it had not been for fear of starvation setting in I would have refused to eat it but I need strength.
July 7, 1993, 6 PM
This is the first time that I've had the opportunity to write. I wonder how the Cubs are doing? I know its a weird thing to think about but its the only thing that keeps me sane. Since I last wrote we have killed two more dogs and three crew members. Every time I think I'm next. That thought makes me work as hard as I do, for I have noticed that the weaker slackers get killed.
July 10, 1993, 7 PM
I'm still here, but two dogs and the captain aren't. We needed food and a change of leadership so we decided to do those at the same time. The captain was driving us too hard which is what led us to needing more food, so we believe that now we could save more animals and people by going at a slower pace.
July 12, 1993, 6 PM
Our tactic didn't work we are down three more dogs but no more crew. Today we finally reached the pole but now the trek back is the hard part. It turns out that we made the journey in twelve days.
July 14, 1993, 1 AM
Now our pace is as hectic as ever to get back, but in the scramble one of our dogs broke the frozen harness and ran into the wintry wilderness. As we hope to get to our ship we are unsure of our direction because we fear that the distance between the geographical and magnetic north poles differ enough to throw our course off.
July 18, 1993, midnight
Our fast pace has taken a toll on the remaining five crew members and eight dogs. WE have lost some due to the cold and some to malnutrition and some to keep the rest of us alive. We still have no idea of our direction or distance to the sea.
July 18, 1993, 3:30 PM
I believe that we are close to the sea, but this knowledge came at a great expense to our expedition. A tragedy even, as we were trekking some ice fell through and took 3 men to hypothermia and 7 dogs were never to be seen again.
July 19, 1993, 1 PM
I had to kill the other men because our hunger was too great to keep and the food supply would barely last anytime with three hungry stomachs so we have to continue with two.
July 20, 1993, 2 PM
My last dog ran with my sled because after I had unloaded the sled he got impatient and i had no chance, being physically and mentally exhausted. Now I have no chance of surviving. I can last a maximum of 1 week if rationing my supplies to a bare minimum.
July 22, 1993, 1 AM
I knew I had no chance of surviving so I decided to have a feast and burn all of my resources at once.
July 22, 1993, 2 PM
Snow, I see it falling endlessly day after day, driving me blind with white. Although so bright and giving I am trapped in darkness and despair waiting for the sad lonesome creature that is starvation to set in. As I lay motionless in the snow I see movement on the horizon, I muster all of the strength I have left in my body and chase it. Then as I finally catch up with it I talk to the musher and we sit for a drink of melted snow. We have a fine time then as he packs up I ask to come with and I get shunned, for he is just a figment of my imagination so gracefully passing me by. So with all the hope that has come with the day it ends as it started in despair and hopelessness, with me laying on the ground, starving, with snow. That is the way it has always been, is now, and will always be.
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