WA8-Draft 1
All of you in front of me are now part of the Texas Penitentiary, you are all here because of some mistake you made sometime in your short eventless lives. I am here to let you know about some of the dangers you will face when enter the walls behind me and start you new life as an inmate. This meeting is strictly to inform of dangers so you can live out your time here without incident. I will cover everything from the slang used inside the prison, down to tips for avoid possibly dangerous situations.
First I will cover the slang. I will start with dropping the soap. It is vital that you NEVER EVER drop the soap in the shower. I’m sure most of no what this term means, but for those of you who don’t it involves you, your butt and another man and his “leg.” In the event that you do drop the soap, do not bend over to pick it up, simply squat down bending at the knees at pick up the soap from the shower floor. Weapons and knives are not allowed in prison, but they are always being made from toothbrushes or the plastic food trays that are provided for you. These knives are often called shanks. There is not much I can say about these except for the fact that they are often used in prison fights, and if you are found with one on you your sentence will go up five to ten years.
Gangs play a huge role in prison, and they are often based on race. If you do happen to be persuaded into one of these gangs and are involved in a group fight, you will be expected to help your fellow gang members. If you do not help them and someone sees you, then your punishment will be a severe beating or death. My advice to you would be to avoid gangs completely and keep to yourself most of the time.
I am afraid I am out of time; I hope this meeting has been helpful and informational. I wish you good luck and hope that your experiences make you realize that when you get out you will never want to come back. Thank you again for your time.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Wa-5 Final Draft
Chapter One: Wedding Day
I woke up and looked outside the window of my hotel room to see that is was a beautiful day. My stomach bubbled in anticipation of getting to marry the man of my dreams. Every aspect was going to be perfect, even the cake was the best cake I had ever seen in my life. It was a beautiful six layer cake with pink candy roses going around every layer.
Two hours before the wedding and the cake is nowhere to be found. I can’t believe not one person can find the cake, it couldn’t have just disappeared.
“Where the stupid cake?!” I yelled in growing anger. Of course no one responds though, why should it matter what the bride wants right? Finally, I hear a voice call from downstairs,
“The cake has just arrived, and it looks great!” A wave of relief went through my body at that moment; I could finally focus on what really mattered. I was hypnotized the whole time, the only thing that I remember saying was,
“I do.” Tears were flowing down my cheeks and an overwhelming sense of joy was going through my body. The reception afterwards was just magnificent. As me and my husband John walked in, I immediately noticed the cake. It was stunning; I wanted to skip dinner just to have a piece of the breathtaking cake.
Dinner was excellent; everything was perfect, from the salad to the main course of prime rib, which was beautifully cooked to perfection. Now it was time for the best part, the cake. I skipped out a little on dinner just to save room for the cake. We all lined up for cake and my husband and I were the first in line. As the caterer was cutting the cake, I had a funny thought. What if the cake was scared to be here? What if the cake had thoughts and feelings? What if the cake was silently sobbing on the inside saying, “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.” The poor cake most likely had a fear of utensils, I would be scared too if a big fork came at me trying break a piece of me off.
As I began eating my piece of cake, a slight feeling of guilt flushed over me. I had a feeling that we had hurt the cake, but it was so good I couldn’t help but eat it. I went to bed that night slightly disturbed. I didn’t mention it to my husband because I knew he wouldn’t believe me.
Chapter Two: The Cake
It was a beautiful day for a wedding, the sun was out and there wasn't a cloud in sight. While the wedding ceremonies were in progress the caterers were busily rushing to set up the reception and dinner. The tables were set with a beautiful deep red cloth, and matching napkins. Everything was ready, except for one thing, me, the cake. I’m a beautiful cake, with six layers and beautiful pink candy roses on every layer. I was going to be the center of the whole reception hall.
I was the only the thing the wedding guests were thinking about during the wedding. They all wanted to get to the reception and get a piece of me, the moist delicious cake. I new everyone's agenda, but there was no way I could get away. It's not like I could just get up and walk out. The only chance of me surviving would be if every guest got stuffed and just refused to have a piece of me.
The sound of the knives cutting the prime rib was unbearable. If it wasn't for the beams holding up my layers I would have collapsed. The caterers moved me from the center of the room to the side of the room to be prepared for cutting.
Finally the announcement came, "Time for cake!" the groom shouted in anticipation. Now the panic was starting to set in, what was I going to do? I couldn’t move, I couldn’t make a sound, and the chances of someone knocking me over were slim. The guests started lining up with their plates to get a piece of my delicious body.
The waiter approached from behind the table, but he wasn't alone, he had friends. My worst enemy… the knife. On the inside I was sobbing, finally I realized that I was going to be eaten. My final moments seemed to go in slow motion, everyone just waiting to get their greasy utensils into my god like body. If I was going to die, then I would want to be eaten by spoons, not forks. Forks were the spawn of Satan, along with knives.
The edge of the knife was cold, cold and sharp, cold, sharp and unforgiving. As the knife was slicing through me, I could feel my life starting to slip away. Then all of the sudden, my life faded away. It faded into the bowels of every guest that attended the wedding. I was gone forever.
I woke up and looked outside the window of my hotel room to see that is was a beautiful day. My stomach bubbled in anticipation of getting to marry the man of my dreams. Every aspect was going to be perfect, even the cake was the best cake I had ever seen in my life. It was a beautiful six layer cake with pink candy roses going around every layer.
Two hours before the wedding and the cake is nowhere to be found. I can’t believe not one person can find the cake, it couldn’t have just disappeared.
“Where the stupid cake?!” I yelled in growing anger. Of course no one responds though, why should it matter what the bride wants right? Finally, I hear a voice call from downstairs,
“The cake has just arrived, and it looks great!” A wave of relief went through my body at that moment; I could finally focus on what really mattered. I was hypnotized the whole time, the only thing that I remember saying was,
“I do.” Tears were flowing down my cheeks and an overwhelming sense of joy was going through my body. The reception afterwards was just magnificent. As me and my husband John walked in, I immediately noticed the cake. It was stunning; I wanted to skip dinner just to have a piece of the breathtaking cake.
Dinner was excellent; everything was perfect, from the salad to the main course of prime rib, which was beautifully cooked to perfection. Now it was time for the best part, the cake. I skipped out a little on dinner just to save room for the cake. We all lined up for cake and my husband and I were the first in line. As the caterer was cutting the cake, I had a funny thought. What if the cake was scared to be here? What if the cake had thoughts and feelings? What if the cake was silently sobbing on the inside saying, “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.” The poor cake most likely had a fear of utensils, I would be scared too if a big fork came at me trying break a piece of me off.
As I began eating my piece of cake, a slight feeling of guilt flushed over me. I had a feeling that we had hurt the cake, but it was so good I couldn’t help but eat it. I went to bed that night slightly disturbed. I didn’t mention it to my husband because I knew he wouldn’t believe me.
Chapter Two: The Cake
It was a beautiful day for a wedding, the sun was out and there wasn't a cloud in sight. While the wedding ceremonies were in progress the caterers were busily rushing to set up the reception and dinner. The tables were set with a beautiful deep red cloth, and matching napkins. Everything was ready, except for one thing, me, the cake. I’m a beautiful cake, with six layers and beautiful pink candy roses on every layer. I was going to be the center of the whole reception hall.
I was the only the thing the wedding guests were thinking about during the wedding. They all wanted to get to the reception and get a piece of me, the moist delicious cake. I new everyone's agenda, but there was no way I could get away. It's not like I could just get up and walk out. The only chance of me surviving would be if every guest got stuffed and just refused to have a piece of me.
The sound of the knives cutting the prime rib was unbearable. If it wasn't for the beams holding up my layers I would have collapsed. The caterers moved me from the center of the room to the side of the room to be prepared for cutting.
Finally the announcement came, "Time for cake!" the groom shouted in anticipation. Now the panic was starting to set in, what was I going to do? I couldn’t move, I couldn’t make a sound, and the chances of someone knocking me over were slim. The guests started lining up with their plates to get a piece of my delicious body.
The waiter approached from behind the table, but he wasn't alone, he had friends. My worst enemy… the knife. On the inside I was sobbing, finally I realized that I was going to be eaten. My final moments seemed to go in slow motion, everyone just waiting to get their greasy utensils into my god like body. If I was going to die, then I would want to be eaten by spoons, not forks. Forks were the spawn of Satan, along with knives.
The edge of the knife was cold, cold and sharp, cold, sharp and unforgiving. As the knife was slicing through me, I could feel my life starting to slip away. Then all of the sudden, my life faded away. It faded into the bowels of every guest that attended the wedding. I was gone forever.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
WA-5 Draft 2
The Bride and the Cake
I woke up and looked outside the window of my hotel room to see that is was a beautiful day and that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. My stomach bubbled in anticipation of getting to marry the man of my dreams. Every aspect was going to be perfect, even the cake was the best cake I had ever seen in my life. It was a beautiful six layer cake with pink candy roses going around every layer. The wedding was at four o’clock meaning I only had six hours to get myself and everyone else ready.
Two hours before the wedding and the cake is nowhere to be found. I can’t believe not one person can find the cake, it couldn’t have just disappeared.
“Where the stupid cake?!” I yelled in growing anger. Of course no one responds though, why should it matter what the bride wants right? Finally almost half an hour later I hear a voice call from downstairs,
“The cake has just arrived, and it looks great!” A wave of relief went through my body at that moment; I could finally focus on what really mattered. The wedding was had on a beautiful tropical beach in Hawaii. It was like I was hypnotized the whole time the only thing that I remember saying was,
“I do.” Tears were flowing down my cheeks and an overwhelming sense of joy going through my body. The reception afterwards was just as great as the wedding. Beautiful glasses and table sets on every table, it was truly a sight to see. As me and my husband John walked in, I immediately noticed the cake. It was stunning; I was ready to skip dinner just to have a piece of the breath taking cake.
Dinner was excellent; everything was perfect, from the salad to the main course of prime rib; which was beautifully cooked to perfection. Now it was time for the best part the cake. I wasn’t about to forget that. I skipped out a little on dinner just to save room for the cake. We all lined up for cake and my husband and I were the first in line. As the caterer was cutting the cake, I had a funny thought. What if the cake was scared to be here? What if the cake had thoughts and feelings? What if the cake was silently sobbing on the inside saying, “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.” the poor cake most likely had a fear of utensils, I would be scared too if a big three pronged object came at me trying break a piece of me off.
As I sat down and started eating my piece of cake a slight feeling of guilt flushed over me. I really had a feeling that we had hurt the cake, but it was so good and scrumptious I couldn’t help but eat it. I went to bed that night slightly disturbed. I didn’t mention it to my husband because I knew he wouldn’t believe me, I guess I will never know if the cake had feelings.
I woke up and looked outside the window of my hotel room to see that is was a beautiful day and that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. My stomach bubbled in anticipation of getting to marry the man of my dreams. Every aspect was going to be perfect, even the cake was the best cake I had ever seen in my life. It was a beautiful six layer cake with pink candy roses going around every layer. The wedding was at four o’clock meaning I only had six hours to get myself and everyone else ready.
Two hours before the wedding and the cake is nowhere to be found. I can’t believe not one person can find the cake, it couldn’t have just disappeared.
“Where the stupid cake?!” I yelled in growing anger. Of course no one responds though, why should it matter what the bride wants right? Finally almost half an hour later I hear a voice call from downstairs,
“The cake has just arrived, and it looks great!” A wave of relief went through my body at that moment; I could finally focus on what really mattered. The wedding was had on a beautiful tropical beach in Hawaii. It was like I was hypnotized the whole time the only thing that I remember saying was,
“I do.” Tears were flowing down my cheeks and an overwhelming sense of joy going through my body. The reception afterwards was just as great as the wedding. Beautiful glasses and table sets on every table, it was truly a sight to see. As me and my husband John walked in, I immediately noticed the cake. It was stunning; I was ready to skip dinner just to have a piece of the breath taking cake.
Dinner was excellent; everything was perfect, from the salad to the main course of prime rib; which was beautifully cooked to perfection. Now it was time for the best part the cake. I wasn’t about to forget that. I skipped out a little on dinner just to save room for the cake. We all lined up for cake and my husband and I were the first in line. As the caterer was cutting the cake, I had a funny thought. What if the cake was scared to be here? What if the cake had thoughts and feelings? What if the cake was silently sobbing on the inside saying, “I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die.” the poor cake most likely had a fear of utensils, I would be scared too if a big three pronged object came at me trying break a piece of me off.
As I sat down and started eating my piece of cake a slight feeling of guilt flushed over me. I really had a feeling that we had hurt the cake, but it was so good and scrumptious I couldn’t help but eat it. I went to bed that night slightly disturbed. I didn’t mention it to my husband because I knew he wouldn’t believe me, I guess I will never know if the cake had feelings.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
WA5-Draft 1
Wedding Cake?
It was a beautiful day for a wedding, the sun was out and there wasn't a cloud anywhere in the sky. While the wedding ceremonies were in progress the caterers were busily rushing back and forth to set up the reception and dinner. The tables were set with a beautiful deep red cloth, and matching napkins. The glasses that were used were a fantastic crystal, that in the grooms opinion were way too expensive. All the preparations were done except for one thing. The cake. It was a beautiful cake; it was six layers with beautiful pink candy roses on every layer. The cake was the center piece of the whole reception hall.
To be honest that was the only the thing the wedding guest were thinking about during the wedding. All they wanted was to get to the reception and get taste a piece of that beautiful, moist, sweet, and delicious cake. The cake new everyone's agenda, but there was no way that the cake could get away. It's not like the cake could just get up and walk out. Three o'clock came rolling around and the cake new that the guest would be on their way, and they would be hungry. The only chance of the cake surviving would be if every guest got stuffed of the main course and just flat out refused to eat cake.
The sound of the knives cutting the prime rib was unbearable to the cake. If it wasn't for the beams holding up each layer of the cake it surely would have collapsed. The cake had now been moved from the center of the room to the side of the room to be prepared for cutting.
Finally the announcement came, "Time for cake!" the groom shouted in eager anticipation. Now the panic was really starting to set in, what was the cake going to do? The cake couldn’t move, it couldn’t make a sound and the chances of someone knocking it over now were slim to none. The guest starting lining up with their plates to get a piece of this delicious cake.
The waiter approached from behind the table, but he wasn't alone, he had friends. The cakes worst enemy… the knife. On the inside the cake was sobbing, finally realizing that it was definitely going to be eaten. The cakes final moments seemed to go in slow motion, everyone just waiting to get their greasy gravy covered utensils into the almost god like cake. If the cake was going to die, then it would want to be eaten by forks, not spoons, forks. Spoons have bad habits of changing people, making them greedy or even making them come back for seconds. Spoons were the spawn of Satan, along with knives.
The edge of the knife was cold, cold and sharp, cold, sharp and unforgiving. As the knife was slicing through the cake, the cake could feel its life starting to slip away. Then all of the sudden, the cakes life faded away. It faded deep into the bowels of every guest that attended the wedding. The cake was gone forever.
It was a beautiful day for a wedding, the sun was out and there wasn't a cloud anywhere in the sky. While the wedding ceremonies were in progress the caterers were busily rushing back and forth to set up the reception and dinner. The tables were set with a beautiful deep red cloth, and matching napkins. The glasses that were used were a fantastic crystal, that in the grooms opinion were way too expensive. All the preparations were done except for one thing. The cake. It was a beautiful cake; it was six layers with beautiful pink candy roses on every layer. The cake was the center piece of the whole reception hall.
To be honest that was the only the thing the wedding guest were thinking about during the wedding. All they wanted was to get to the reception and get taste a piece of that beautiful, moist, sweet, and delicious cake. The cake new everyone's agenda, but there was no way that the cake could get away. It's not like the cake could just get up and walk out. Three o'clock came rolling around and the cake new that the guest would be on their way, and they would be hungry. The only chance of the cake surviving would be if every guest got stuffed of the main course and just flat out refused to eat cake.
The sound of the knives cutting the prime rib was unbearable to the cake. If it wasn't for the beams holding up each layer of the cake it surely would have collapsed. The cake had now been moved from the center of the room to the side of the room to be prepared for cutting.
Finally the announcement came, "Time for cake!" the groom shouted in eager anticipation. Now the panic was really starting to set in, what was the cake going to do? The cake couldn’t move, it couldn’t make a sound and the chances of someone knocking it over now were slim to none. The guest starting lining up with their plates to get a piece of this delicious cake.
The waiter approached from behind the table, but he wasn't alone, he had friends. The cakes worst enemy… the knife. On the inside the cake was sobbing, finally realizing that it was definitely going to be eaten. The cakes final moments seemed to go in slow motion, everyone just waiting to get their greasy gravy covered utensils into the almost god like cake. If the cake was going to die, then it would want to be eaten by forks, not spoons, forks. Spoons have bad habits of changing people, making them greedy or even making them come back for seconds. Spoons were the spawn of Satan, along with knives.
The edge of the knife was cold, cold and sharp, cold, sharp and unforgiving. As the knife was slicing through the cake, the cake could feel its life starting to slip away. Then all of the sudden, the cakes life faded away. It faded deep into the bowels of every guest that attended the wedding. The cake was gone forever.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
WA3-Draft 2
Author Letter
Dear Karen Traviss,
Your book, Star Wars Republic Commando is great. It always has me interested and wondering what was going to happen next. I love your change the settings from the battlefield to a city so easily. With so many of these setting changes you think it would be hard to keep events in order, but you do so well that it is not hard at all. The constant action that you give is what I usually look for in a book.
You use different types of action to keep me interested. I love reading about battles in the book, I can clearly see them in my mind. Also when I'm just reading about mysteries that have come up it keeps me guessing and I consider that some type of action as well. I enjoy reading this book and look forward to reading many other. Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Justin Bernard
Dear Karen Traviss,
Your book, Star Wars Republic Commando is great. It always has me interested and wondering what was going to happen next. I love your change the settings from the battlefield to a city so easily. With so many of these setting changes you think it would be hard to keep events in order, but you do so well that it is not hard at all. The constant action that you give is what I usually look for in a book.
You use different types of action to keep me interested. I love reading about battles in the book, I can clearly see them in my mind. Also when I'm just reading about mysteries that have come up it keeps me guessing and I consider that some type of action as well. I enjoy reading this book and look forward to reading many other. Thank you for your time.
Sincerely,
Justin Bernard
Sunday, October 12, 2008
WA2-Final Draft
Two Squirrels and a Storm
It was a beautiful day in Tiny Creature Forest. Everything was going as it usually would. The sun was shining and all the little creatures of Tiny Creature Forest were merrily frolicking around without a care in the world. In another part of the forest though, two brothers were just waking up. Marco and Polo were the most popular squirrels in the forest. They were known for their many adventures and also their amazing skill with the lady squirrels. Little did Marco and Polo know, they were about to have the adventure of their lives.
Marco was the first to come out of the tree dwelling and go look for acorns for him and his brother to eat for breakfast. Polo was awake but he had decided lay in bed like always until he found something interesting enough to make him come out. Marco wasn't having any luck finding acorns, they were becoming harder and harder to find because the economy was in such a poor state. By the time Marco returned to the dwelling Polo had fallen asleep on the mossy floor. "Wake up dude," said Marco with an air of annoyance in his voice. Polo opened one eye and groggily said "Did you bring me back my breakfast yet?"
"Yeah, I did, but I shouldn’t even give you an acorn because you didn’t help me at all."
"Hey," said Polo suddenly awake now, "I only stayed here because I didn’t want to leave the house unattended for some weird bird to come take over." Marco being used to Polo's excuses gave up the argument and handed Polo his acorn. So there they sat gnawing away at their acorns. From the distance a low rumble could be heard, but from the over whelming crunch of their acorns Marco and Polo were completely oblivious to the sound.
They became aware of the noise when the loud crack of thunder shook their tree. Polo pointed towards the door as if to say lets go check it out. "Are you crazy? We don’t know what could be out there. What if its one of those things that walks on two legs." Marco said in a raspy whisper. "Come on," said Polo. "Are you chicken?" This made Marco scamper over to the door and put his little soft furry claw on it. He gently pushed it open until he and his brother could see out of it. Then WHOOSH, Marco was swept away by a gust of wind, he disappeared into the wall of rain coming out of the sky. Polo almost in tears yelled, "Marco!" and faintly in the distance you could here Marco yell back, "Polo!" Then he was gone, Marco was gone. With this sudden realization Polo stumbled lazily back onto one of the only two pieces of furniture they had. Marcos bed.
Marco was never seen again after the storm. It was said that he was blown all the way to Never Never Land, it was also said that he just went up in the sky and never came back down. Whatever happened to Marco still left Polo without a brother. Polo would never be the same again, and will always have a whole in his heart where his brother used to reside.
By:
Justin Bernard
It was a beautiful day in Tiny Creature Forest. Everything was going as it usually would. The sun was shining and all the little creatures of Tiny Creature Forest were merrily frolicking around without a care in the world. In another part of the forest though, two brothers were just waking up. Marco and Polo were the most popular squirrels in the forest. They were known for their many adventures and also their amazing skill with the lady squirrels. Little did Marco and Polo know, they were about to have the adventure of their lives.
Marco was the first to come out of the tree dwelling and go look for acorns for him and his brother to eat for breakfast. Polo was awake but he had decided lay in bed like always until he found something interesting enough to make him come out. Marco wasn't having any luck finding acorns, they were becoming harder and harder to find because the economy was in such a poor state. By the time Marco returned to the dwelling Polo had fallen asleep on the mossy floor. "Wake up dude," said Marco with an air of annoyance in his voice. Polo opened one eye and groggily said "Did you bring me back my breakfast yet?"
"Yeah, I did, but I shouldn’t even give you an acorn because you didn’t help me at all."
"Hey," said Polo suddenly awake now, "I only stayed here because I didn’t want to leave the house unattended for some weird bird to come take over." Marco being used to Polo's excuses gave up the argument and handed Polo his acorn. So there they sat gnawing away at their acorns. From the distance a low rumble could be heard, but from the over whelming crunch of their acorns Marco and Polo were completely oblivious to the sound.
They became aware of the noise when the loud crack of thunder shook their tree. Polo pointed towards the door as if to say lets go check it out. "Are you crazy? We don’t know what could be out there. What if its one of those things that walks on two legs." Marco said in a raspy whisper. "Come on," said Polo. "Are you chicken?" This made Marco scamper over to the door and put his little soft furry claw on it. He gently pushed it open until he and his brother could see out of it. Then WHOOSH, Marco was swept away by a gust of wind, he disappeared into the wall of rain coming out of the sky. Polo almost in tears yelled, "Marco!" and faintly in the distance you could here Marco yell back, "Polo!" Then he was gone, Marco was gone. With this sudden realization Polo stumbled lazily back onto one of the only two pieces of furniture they had. Marcos bed.
Marco was never seen again after the storm. It was said that he was blown all the way to Never Never Land, it was also said that he just went up in the sky and never came back down. Whatever happened to Marco still left Polo without a brother. Polo would never be the same again, and will always have a whole in his heart where his brother used to reside.
By:
Justin Bernard
Sunday, September 14, 2008
WA-1 - Emotional Experience
Justin Bernard -- Period 4 English
My Emotional Experience
In January of 2007, my cousin Allen was shot and killed by a
Allen was shot in the head three times through the wind shield; one in the forehead the others under his left and right eyes. If the game warden was said to be on the side of the car how could he have gotten these precise shots off in the first place. Allen supposedly hit the warden with the vehicle, if this is true then he couldn’t have got the shots of then either. The only way he could of got hit by the car is if he shot first making Allen loose control of the vehicle and then the car hit the warden. Another question brought up is why the game warden was making a police stop? Game wardens are in charge of hunting and fishing matters, why didn’t he radio for a regular police unit to come out and assist him.
My uncle called that night to tell us what had happened. As soon I answered the phone I knew something was wrong, I could tell by the tone of his voice, immediately my heart sank. When my mom got off the phone she was crying. She told me what happened and I felt a flood of grief and anger I remember going back to my room and hitting something and then crying. My grandmother wasn't any better. I had to call my other uncle and tell him what happened he broke down too. The whole thing is so blurry, all that really stuck with me is finding out what happened, and the sound of my uncles voice when I first answered the phone.
I have never in my felt so much anger towards one person, it felt like a huge weight on my chest, it made my breathing short and quick, I couldn’t function or think straight. The funeral didn’t go over any better. It was an open casket, having to walk into a room a see your cousin, friend, lying there dead is something I would never wish on my worst enemy or anyone else for that matter. Charges were pressed against the warden for manslaughter but were dropped because of insufficient evidence. I had a friend who was kind enough to come to the funeral, he had only met Allen once and he saw his body lying there and broke down. We both cried. Even now I sometimes cry about what happened to Allen.
It has been over a year since the incident, it's easier to deal with, but even writing this paper brought back that heavy feeling on my chest and the quickened breathing.Things like this never truly go away. The surreal feeling that lingered after everything was done with made everything seem to move in slow motion, this is something I hope no one has to live with. I still get angry from time to time when I think about the game warden getting to walk away without a slap on the wrist. It's completely unfair that my family has to loose a loved one, and then the blame is left lying on the ground. That’s a day that I will never forget.
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