Tuesday, July 12, 2011

boo monalouge

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I wish, that I could’ve played outside like all other kids, and play hide and seek, swing on ropes and run around. I hate my dad he took away my life, my friends and my freedom. Why did he do that? Lock me up in here, this boring dirty old room. The walls are grey that looks like that of a jail cell or as if they had been the walls to a heavy smokers living room. The only light gives out dim yellow cloud and a horrible persistent buzz, but it isn’t even working right now. It has a cone shaped shade that used to be a brilliant white but is now the same grey as the walls. The only decent thing about this room is this window. I mean there’s nothing here just my bed, stool and mirror, but the mirror must have cracked ages ago this stool really gives me a bottom ache and my bed’s all lumpy and dirty. I wonder when the sheets were last washed or replaced, that must have been at least two months ago.


I remember that Ben had a really nice room with a comfortable soft bed; bouncy chairs and he even had a desk and wardrobe with really nice clothes, they were nice, bright colours and never had any rips. I wonder what’s happened to him, he can’t be any worse off than me, kept to the four walls of this lousy house. He’s probably married with a few children, a farm to himself and half a dozen slaves working his fields, feeding his pigs, milking his cows and plucking his chicken. Well, really he could be doing anything he could even be dead for all I know, maybe he went down in a plane because he always said that he wanted to be a pilot or was killed in a huge fire trying to save someone, well I think Miss Maudie said that when I was listening in on her.


I don’t know why all of the town people think I’m evil or just about to do something to them or something like that. I suppose it’s that gossiper miss Maudie, she told everyone that I stabbed dad, I wish I was brave enough to that though because he is so horrible; always shouting at me and keeping me from doing anything because I’m a failure, an embarrassment and all the rest of it. I wish someone would understand me other than Mr. Finch and the doctor, they’re the only ones that believe that I haven’t meant any harm to anything and I’ve been misinterpreted, I think that that’s the sole thing that irritates me the most.


That Scout girl is really cute along with Jem but he can be rather annoying at times, running up to the house peeking in through the windows, knocking on the door and then running, dropping notes and letters into the garden. Especially annoying was when he told all his friends that if they went near my house they’d be eaten or even worse taken hostage and then tortured. I love those kids though they don’t understand me but it’s fun looking after them and all. I think they appreciate my gifts but aren’t old enough to realise they should give anything in return but I don’t need that. That was really mean of dad when he cemented up the knot in the tree that was really my only way of contacting them without scaring them out of their sandals.


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There they are playing with that good old tyre, I used to play with that before everything started happening with me and my father and the court. Ben and I used to have great fun with it pushing each other along the road and seeing how far we could roll it without it going off the road. I was always best at that; I could get it to go along the road for the length of five houses. I remember we’d leave it in the yard for the day and then pick it up after lunch and it’d be burning hot and we’d have competitions to see who could hold onto it the longest.


It wasn’t at all a loss to me when my dad died in fact I was celebrating it he must’ve been the meanest guy alive. However straight after him came my brother and he isn’t that much better really but at least he gets me the paper or a magazine when he goes down to the shops. I wonder if like he left anything for me in his will, probably didn’t, and I think he probably told my brother to take up his position in life because he just does exactly the same thing.


I wish that someone would persuade everyone that I’m not really as bad as everyone thinks and the real story of my life the victim of a merciless, classist, proud father. I wish that some one would come along one day and release me out into the real world and help leave every thing behind me like my name and myths “Boo”, it isn’t like I’m a ghost or anything at least I hope not. I wish I could get married ad have children and lead an ordinary life.





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