Notoriety for the Nefarious Neal

INT. The PROFESSOR’S Room

The PROFESSOR is handing out the tests.

PROFESSOR

I am passing out the tests now so everyone be quiet; you all are familiar with the drill.

NEAL

Psst... Pass this note to Nina.

Random Kid

Okay, Psst... Nina this is from your “boyfriend”

NINA

Thanks

The note read: Good Luck on the test, see you after class.

Nina begins to pass a note in response back to Neal.

PROFESSOR

You are you passing notes during a test. You are in trouble for cheating little missy

NINA

No sir, I was just. . .

PROFESSOR

I don’t want to hear your petty excuses; out of my classroom now!

NEAL

Sir, I can explain. . .

PROFESSOR

No need to make excuses up for her Neal.

A couple of hours later after class. . . with Nina and all of Neal’s afore mentioned friends

NINA

Thanks, a lot Neal. Now my parents are going to be so mad at me. This is your fault. I am going to be officially grounded by my parents.

NEAL

I know your right, this is my fault but if everyone is up for it, I have an idea.

Nina leaves and Neal tells his idea to his friends (Yash, Daniel, Nathaniel, SURAJ, and NATASHA)

SURAJ

Gee Neal, I’m not so sure this is a good idea, besides, we could get in a lot of trouble, not to mention the fact that Nina never told you to do this for her.

NEAL

Nonsense, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Later on that night...outside the Professor’s residence

NEAL

All right, let’s go, you all know the drill. There should be no evidence that we came here and no room for mistakes.

YASH

Got it! Now let’s do this.

They enter the Professor’s house, noting that his car isn’t outside so they can sneak in.

Int. Professor’s room

NEAL

Let’s hurry up and find Nina’s test paper and the Professor’s test answers.

The friends are all rummaging through the cupboards and drawers searching for the papers. The wind can be heard rustling outside as there is a figure outside climbing up a bush at the side of the house towards the window. The figure comes unnoticed.

NEAL

Found it! Now all I have to do is copy it quickly before the Professor comes back.

Wait! Who’s that outside of the window?

NINA

(Tapping on the window outside) Guys! What do you think you’re doing? Get out of there now!

NEAL

Nina, you weren’t supposed to be here.

NINA

I heard about your plan to lie and cheat on my test for me. You’ve lost your mind Neal and I don’t want to take any part in your dirty scheme.

NEAL

You’re going to have to be our lookout in case the Professor comes back.

Yash had been rummaging through the papers when he found an object in one of the drawers.

NEAL

Guys we’ll be done shortly.

Fear erupts on Yash’s face. Suddenly... SlAM!!!

NINA

That was the door! Oh no! The Professor’s back and he is inside the house.

YASH

Neal, there’s something I need to tell you.

NEAL

Not now Yash, we’re already in as much trouble as it is.

The Professor’s footsteps can be heard on the steps, as he gets closer to the room.

PROFESSOR

What are you kids doing in my house! Are those the answers to the test I gave you earlier today?

NEAL

We can explain.

Yash can feel the fear well up inside of him as he panics...

YASH

Hold it right there! (Holds up the gun now understood to be the object found in the drawer.) Don’t move or I’ll shoot!

NEAL

(Shocked) Where did you get the gun from?

PROFESSOR

What are you doing son, just give me the gun and all of you will be free to go.

YASH

Stop or I’ll...I’ll sh-sh-shoot!

NEAL

Don’t do this Yash; you’ll regret it. Please, please don’t do this.

PROFESSOR

Listen to your friend; you have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t have to do this.

YASH

Shut up! Shut up! I need you to stop talking!

Without thinking Yash pulls the trigger. Neal jumps in front of the Professor and the bullet and gets shot in the leg.

Neal

Ow! Damn you Yash, I told you not to pull the trigger!

YASH

Oh no! What have I done! I’m so sorry!

NEAL

Whatever, its okay, I’ll be okay.

YASH

What are you crazy! You’ve been shot! Of course you’re not going to be okay!

PROFESSOR

Well, it looks like you’re all in trouble. I knew that I shouldn’t have started teaching some dumb punk kids such as all of you.

YASH

What do you mean?

PROFESSOR

I mean that I could have been anything a doctor a lawyer even an engineer; but NOOO... I decided to become a teacher. Man what was I thinking? But now that all of you are here, I can’t just let you leave!

Neal, thinking quickly, grabs onto the Professor’s leg (while still bleeding on the floor) and pulls him down which knocks him out.

NEAL

What are you guys waiting for! Run!

YASH

But, what about you!

NEAL

Go on without me. . .

YASH

Okay! See Ya!

NEAL

What! You all are actually going to leave without me.

YASH

But, you just said it was okay.

NEAL

And, you believed me! It’s just a figure of speech. I mean, I’m bleeding to death because of you, and you actually planned on leaving me here!

YASH

Would you quit arguing and get up already! I swear sometimes you are just being a drama queen.

Neal gets up, while everyone else runs downstairs and out the door and Nina gets away from the window and goes to her bike. Natasha tries to help Neal when Neal opens a door which he believes to be the front door. They open a closet door to reveal a skeleton.

NATASHA

Is that what I think it is...

NEAL

Yeah, that’s the Professor’s wife! The rumors were, I mean are true, he did kill his wife. Talk about having skeletons hidden in the closet!

NATASHA

Let’s get out of here; I don’t want to find out about anymore of the Professor’s hidden secrets.

Rhetorical Letter

I decided to write a rhetorical letter for my blog post this week. I was inspired by these rhetorical letters written by an Urdu short story writer, Saadat Hasan Manto. I read a few of his short stories and didn't like them because they were kind of erotic and violent. I looked him up and came across someone's blog about the author. I read the few "letters" written by the author that have been translated and I thought they were quite witty and they changed my opinion of the author entirely. I was having a really bad day, so those letters definitely raised my spirits. So here's my own version of a "letter" based off of actual events. I want to see if anyone can figure them out they should be quite obvious. I am going to post the link to the blog I found after I write the letter; but I ask that you please refrain from reading that blog until you've read mine because that will ruin the whole blog. I want you to keep in mind that I am writing these letters as a person from a different country altogether.

Dear Uncle,

I heard about the twins and I'm deeply sorry for your loss. Events like that really have a way of bringing people closer together; for when one dies a part of everyone dies with it. I'm sure you have already heard of what happened here. What happened on 7/11 was being compared to the same event that took place for you. I watched the news and I was devastated by the impact and how reckless people seem to be becoming now a days. I heard that some people are planning on building a mosque and the controversy that's going on about it. I think it's ridiculous that people are having such an argument about it. There really shouldn't be such discrimination and prejudice directed towards one ethnicity because not all Muslims are terrorists. I hope my regards and prayers reach you safely and I hope in time that some day people will be more accepting of others and less judgmental.

Your niece


I'm pretty sure that letter was obvious enough as to what I was talking about. If you didn't understand the reference of 7/11 you can try to look it up. Just type in Bombay 7/11 and you'll understand.

Here's the link to the blog about those rhetorical letters written by that author mentioned in the beginning.

http://www.lehigh.edu/~amsp/2006/07/saadat-hasan-mantos-letters-to-uncle.html

Addictions and books

I would say that everyone's addicted to something whether it's something as harmless as technology or as serious as drugs. Though, I would say I've never been addicted to anything serious like that. I've been addicted to mainly technology like watching tv or going on the internet. I finally got a Facebook this week; my friend insisted that I get one because everyone has one. But that's the whole reason I didn't want one in the first place. I like to do my own thing and not mindlessly follow a crowd. It's better to stand out than to blend in; I liked the idea of being different from everyone else. I think it's just a matter of time before I start to get addicted to Facebook as well.

Over the years I've gotten addicted to reading fanfiction and for those of you who don't know what fanfic is, it's basically a site where people write using ready made characters. For instance, some people write their own stories using the characters from Harry Potter or tv shows or other characters from different forms of entertainment. You can use characters from books and even games and movies. My friend told me about the site when I was a sophomore and I became obsessed with it, but I limited myself to only reading fanfic during the summer. I've always loved to read, but most fanfic is usually really shitty writing. The writers that are good are usually writing romance shit that always seems overdone. The fanfic I read is usually writers that are better than Stephanie Meyer, her books are basically the shittiest fanfic like writing ever to hit the face of the earth. I looked her up and found out that she had never even written a short story before writing her precious Twilight series. Everyone knows that before you can actually embark on writing a novel, you have to at least write shitty short stories before you can jump in to writing something so time consuming and long.

What I want to know is what happened to people reading the classic novels that sparked more interest. The books I read in high school had more literary merit and they were really good novels. The books that I fell in love with in high school include: The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, The Great Gatsby F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Devil in the White City by Erik Larson, Lord of the Flies by William Golding and How to kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I know not a lot of people would agree with me on these specific choices especially since most people I know have always said that they didn't like Lord of the Flies mainly because it was just one big metaphor and about savagery. When I was in middle school I used to get tutoring at Sylvan learning center; one of my tutors turned out to be an author and her pen name is C.S. Friedman. She said that judging by my personality I would probably really like that book and she was totally right. I've never actually read her books, but I hope to one day see if I can. I tried looking for her books at the library and couldn't find it. I'm not sure if any of you have ever read her books, but since she was right about my taste in books I'm probably going to enjoy reading hers as soon as I find it. I also know that most people prefer not to read nonfiction books and The Devil in the White City is a nonfiction book, but it's about a serial killer named H.H. Holmes and it talks about how he grew up and how he killed his victims. That story's really quite interesting and even though it's a little long about four hundred pages or so, it's still pretty amazing.

Past Halloween Memories

Since it's almost time for Halloween, I thought I would talk about how I spent my past years during Halloween. Of course as a child I would trick or treat, but I haven't done that since I was thirteen; that year I trick or treated with my cousins and we were supposed to be zombie soccer players. Basically we had used make-up to draw scars on our faces and I borrowed my cousin's soccer jersey. After that I spent the years watching some of my favorite movies; when I was younger my sister, my cousins and I watched the movie "Hocus Pocus" and I loved it. So whenever that comes on TV around Halloween I watch it out of habit. I also watch "Halloween: Resurrection" which is one of my favorite Halloween movies of all time. I remember that was the movie I watched on the day I should have been studying for my chem exam that I would be having the next day after Halloween, back when I was a sophomore in high school. Teachers should never assign exams when they know that it's more or less a 'holiday', even though Halloween isn't exactly considered a holiday, it should be. Last year I watched "Halloween: Resurrection" again and a movie that was coming on MTV called "My Super Psycho Sweet Sixteen".

I know everyone that went to my high school would always go to Markoff's Haunted Forest whenever Halloween rolled around. It's located in Maryland and I only went there once with my sister and my cousins, back when I was a junior. It's basically a tour through these 'woods' where a bunch of scary stuff comes at you, they even have people dressed up as trees to fool you and scar you when you least expect it. We went on a really chilly night and one of my older cousins was trying to scar all of us girls, luckily I was closer to the front so I was never one of the targeted people he was trying to scar. At one point he was sitting directly underneath a mock spotlight, with his shirt over his head and we kept telling him that wouldn't work because he was right underneath the light, it was pretty obvious what he was trying to do. While his head was under his shirt he didn't notice one of the 'trees' headed towards him. Instead of scaring the girls he ended up getting scared himself by one of the mock 'trees'. It gets scarier towards the end when a guy with a fake, very loud 'chainsaw' comes at you. The drive there wasn't very long, but the drive back was; my sister was driving and she was scared by how small and narrow the paths were. She kept saying talking about how because no one really lives down there it would be really easy for someone to bury a body or kill someone and no one would find out. Basically what makes Markoff's Haunted Forest so awesome is because it's in the middle of nowhere which essentially makes it that much more appealing and scary at the same time.

Since I am talking about Halloween I might as well divulge in the story of how the name Sarah was always a curse to me. In the past, back when I was still in elementary school there were three girls, by the name of Sarah, that always posed problems for me. The first was Sarah K., she was always a bitch to me, she was never good at pronunciation or she was illiterate or something because she always called me Dukie, I can't tell you how many times I told her that the e in Duke is silent. Two of my oldest cousins went to Duke University so I owned a lot of shirts and a sweatshirt with that logo. I think she just had a personal vendetta against me, but I honestly don't know why; that was back in third grade. Then in fifth grade it was Sarah H., she loved making fun of my last name; she was the biggest slut at our high school and pretty popular, but she stopped posing problems for me. Then there's the last Sarah; Sarah J., the whole reason I brought this up and why this has to do with my Halloween memories. It was sixth grade and Sarah J. was disrespecting other people's stuff; we were in another class room for English. So I told Sarah to stop messing with the stuff in the desks because they didn't belong to her, but she didn't listen. Then, for no reason at all, she started kicking me; we were starting a new book that day, something about someone named Stella. There were some Spanish phrases thrown in there as well; anyway, the teacher was calling on specific students to read. It was the first chapter and unfortunately because I have such bad luck, she called on me to read. While I was reading Sarah kept kicking me, everyone now and then I would pause for a little too long because of the pain; I think my teacher assumed it was because I couldn't pronounce the words, but that obviously wasn't the case. That teacher must have been oblivious as fuck, because that whole entire time she didn't notice me wincing in pain as I read. Finally, I finished the first chapter and I didn't retain any of the information about the story at all. I looked at Sarah and the only thing on my mind was revenge, so I kicked her once and I could see the fear in her eyes afterward; I was only planning on kicking her once, but she put her legs on the side of the chair so I couldn't kick her again. However, since I have such bad luck, the teacher noticed me kick Sarah. The only thing I could think about when she told us both to come to the back of the class to talk to us was, why did it take her so long to notice and how come she only noticed when I kicked Sarah and not when she kicked me. Now, here's the kicker (mind the pun), that all took place on a Friday the day of Halloween. So we all received candy and a lecture for kicking each other. Sarah J. started being more civil to me though; which is good because she actually lived in the same neighborhood as me. Actually she only lived one house away from mine, so basically all of the popular kids knew where I lived. She also had a couple cats, and I hate cats; one of her cats would always manage to come into my yard and it would always annoy the shit out of me.

Ever since those three Sarahs, I haven't had any more problems with the people named Sarah. I was actually friends with a couple of Sarahs after elementary school. So luckily there will never be a problem with the people named Sarah again. I used to tense up automatically each time I heard that name being uttered. Especially since Sarah K. almost got me suspended or a warning from the vice principal about suspension for passing notes. That and Sarah K. loved bullying me throughout that year. I don't know what I'll be doing this year for Halloween, hopefully it will be something interesting. I've always wanted to know what it would be like to go to the cemetery at night on Halloween. Though I love horror movies, I don't believe in ghosts, ghouls, vampires, werewolves or anything else that has to do with Halloween monsters or associated with Halloween. Too bad no ones allowed in the cemetery after dark which really sucks balls.

Personal History

When I was nine I was sent to my elementary school's clinic because my lip was bleeding. While I was trying to clean up my lip, I passed out; luckily the school nurse caught me before I fell to the ground. I'm pretty sure I passed out at the sight of my own blood while I had been trying to clean it up. I assumed that my mom had freaked out about it and that's why a couple weeks later we went to see a doctor that does EEG tests which basically study your brain waves. The doctor asked me simple questions like my name and what I like such as my favorite color and stuff like that. All I could think about that whole entire time was how badly I wanted to wash my hair because the shit he put on my head felt so gross. As a child I hated washing my hair because the shampoo would always get in my eyes and in my mouth.

I asked my mom why she had sent me to that doctor when I really didn't need to go to that doctor. The only reason I had passed out in the first place was because of the blood. She told me that the school nurse had told her it would be a good idea to get me checked out just in case by a qualified doctor to find out if anything specific was wrong. Which I guess in hindsight was a good idea, no matter how stupid I thought it was at the time. I really thought my mom had sent me to the doctor because she had freaked out about it; but either way, my mom spending money to get me sent to the doctor is reason enough for me to understand how much she truly cares about me and my health. Honestly, that was the single most humiliating moment in my life because of how weird it felt to be questioned by a random doctor. Having those wires stuck to my head so that he could study my brain waves was just embarrassing. It was like adding insult to injury, as if passing out in front of some of my peers wasn't humiliating enough; I get sent to a doctor, usually when people get sent to doctors like that, it's because they have something that's wrong with their mental health.

The Favor

I'm back home for the weekend and I'm really happy about that. On the car ride over here, my dad was lecturing me about following the teacher's instructions and not getting into an argument with my teacher or anyone else. He told me a story about when he corrected one of his teachers and the teacher started hating him. My dad told me he had to go to the Headmaster or in other words the Principal and explain to him that the teacher wasn't treating him very fairly. I find it funny, how many people have told me that one of their teachers hated them. I can't say I've ever gone through a teacher disliking me; most of my teachers were always civil to me probably because they always knew I was trying my best and doing the shit they assigned. My dad told me to listen to my teachers no matter what even if they tell you to do something wrong. So that got me to thinking: what if a teacher told you to do something really bad or even morally wrong; what would you do? So I decided to write a story about just that.

The young man was in a hurry; this would be the first time he was running late. Dressed smartly in a suit with his jet black hair combed to perfection. His glasses making him look even classier and staring at his watch with his over the shoulder computer bag weighing him down. Who is this young man and why is he in such a hurry? Meet Roger, straight A student, president of the student council and what most people liked to call a teacher's pet or total kiss-up. Roger goes to a boarding school so dressing nicely is required, not that he minds dressing up in a suit. He was born to tie a tie and wear a suit. So being late was usually never an issue, but his alarm didn't go off and yet he still took the time to get dressed nicely. His motto was always "dress to impress" not to mention the fact that he needs to dress nicely for school.

"You're late Mr. Anderson! I never thought I would see the day where my best student came late," said Professor Thames with a shake of his head. "Sorry sir, it won't happen again," Roger stated apologetically; everyone's eyes were on him with surprise, no one could believe that the teacher's pet was late. "Good, I'll see to it that you aren't late again. See me after class," the professor said with finality. Roger nodded; he waited nervously hoping that the class wouldn't end so soon. He was dreading what the professor would say to him about being late. The end of the class finally came and everyone filed out except for Roger. "Mr. Anderson, we need to talk," said the professor. "Am I in trouble sir?" Roger asked. "Yes and no; you've never been late to my class before so I'm going to try to go easy on you," the professor started to say. "What do you mean sir?" Roger asked again with uncertainty. "I mean, I need you to do me a favor; but it's not going to be easy,"the professor stated. "Wha- what is it?" Roger asked with a hint of fear. "There's someone in my life I need you to get rid of," said the professor. "Who?" Roger asked hesitantly. "You know Mr. Jackson," the professor said. "Stuart, the guy in my class?" Roger asked. "Yes, Mr. Jackson is creating a problem for me. He never does his work like you Mr. Anderson, he's not as diligent. His dad was in jail and he's threatening to kill me if I don't pass his so called precious son," the professor explained. "If his father was in jail, how can he afford to have his son go here?" Roger asked skeptically. "That's a good question Mr. Anderson. He can't, he's far behind the school's dues. Mr. Jackson's mom used to pay the dues, but she left her husband and son," the professor said. "I'm sorry to hear that sir," said Roger. "I know you are, I need you to kill Mr. Jackson's father," the professor said. "What?!?! I can't do that sir! I could go to jail and my chances at going to college would be over. Not to mention my father would kill me if I did something that horrendous!" Roger exclaimed. "Look, I'm your teacher; so you either kill the senior Mr. Jackson or you fail my class. What do you cherish more saving one guy's life or getting good grades?" the professor said.

Professor Thames told Roger to think it over and get back to him in a few days' time. Roger contemplated the proposition; he was perplexed about the entire situation. How could anyone ask someone to do something so heinous and atrocious? He decided that he needed a second opinion so he asked his roommate what he should do. "Blake, can I ask you something?" Roger said. "Sure, what's up?" Blake replied. So Roger told Blake in a few words what Blake would do if someone asked him to kill someone else? "I could never kill anyone! Why would anyone ask me to do something so crazy?" Blake asked with surprise. "I don't know, forget I asked," Roger said. He decided to tell the professor that he couldn't possibly take someone else's life. "Sorry sir, but I can't do what you asked from me. I'd rather risk bad grades than a juvenile record," Roger said. "Very well than Mr. Anderson. I guess you've made you're choice," Professor Thames stated.

Roger didn't fail Professor Thames class, because the professor ended up being sent to jail. Roger had reported what the professor had asked of him to the authorities and they found out it was true. The professor had asked another student for the same crazy favor. That student had reported the same incident and the professor was arrested for trying to hire a hit man when neither of the students were willing to do what he had asked of them. Roger ended up going to a good college because his SAT scores were phenomenal. Stuart Jackson (the kid whose father the professor was trying to kill) ended up doing better in school and ended up being accepted at a good college as well.

Simile Poem

This is a poem that I wrote while reminiscing about the moments I used to jog with my dad and sometimes with my family as a whole. I'm in the Def Poets Society club with my friend and we were told to write simile poems. I know what you're probably thinking, that club is just a rip off of the movie the "Dead Poets Society"; but whatever I don't care because I actually like poetry.

It was like running on air,
It was like going through a bouquet of red roses,
It was like nothing in this world,
It was like a strong chemical bond that can't be broken,
It was like a strange sense of calm and peace,
It was as if nothing could ruin the moment or rush of adrenalin coursing through my veins,
It was as if I could fly and nothing could bring me down.
It was running through 'The Jungle'* and nothing not even fear could touch me,
It was a moment I would never forget,
It was love and family bonding time,
It was what it was and nothing can change it.

*'The Jungle' comment refers to someone's house which was in the path of where my family and I would run. This specific house never cut there shrubs and it looked like a jungle so that's what we called it. My family (which consists of my parents and older sister) would never be willing to run through it only I would run through it. My mom would always freak out and tell me that I would get kidnapped or something even though it would take me only about a few seconds to run through it. My family would avoid it by running onto the road; I would always think they were just being a bunch of babies, but whatever.