Chapter 2 of my story

once again a rough draft it has errors i know that already. lol ^_^

Chapter 2: Welcome home

Michael impatiently waited in his car as the line slowly moved a few cars every 10 or 20 minutes. For several years now the state had requested all cars going in and out of New York were to be inspected. It was a desperate bid by the mayor to try and cut off the drug and human trafficking trade in the city. Unfortunately it was not very successful. Just as eyelids grew heavy he became startled when he heard the officer yell the word next.

“license and registration please.” asked the officer

Michael fumbled through the glove compartment a few seconds before handing over both of the requested items. The officer starred at them a few seconds before handing them back.

“Please state your business here in the state of New York Mr. Henderson.”the officer asked in a polite manor.

“I've brought my family to be buried.” Michael replied

“Do you mind if I check your trunk sir?”

“Not at all.”

Michael opened the trunk for the officer.

“sir I'm afraid I'm going to have to open the coffins. I need to make sure your not transporting any illegal goods. Its standard procedure.” the officer spoke in a regretful manor

“very well.” Michael replied

Michael waited impatiently for only a few minutes before the officer came back to the window.

“your all clear Mr. Henderson enjoy your stay in New York city.” the officer spoke in a polite manor

“thank you.”

Michael drove past the gates, he wondered just how long it would take before he'd see the skyscrapers of Manhattan.

Ramona walked up to the gates of the senators house, and could hear the cab driver scream various profanity's for not leaving a tip.

“hello!?” Ramona yelled into the intercom.

“who is it?” replied the intercom

“Ramona, Ramona Hudson. I'm from the New York times I had an appointment with senator Geithner.”

“Alright come on in.”

Ramona was greeted in a cordial manor by the butler. Senator Geithner was well known as the richest man in congress. Many wondered why he never bothered running for President.

Ramona admired the lovely decorated house as she was brought to the senator's office.

“Senator Geithner! Ms. Hudson is here from the new york times to interview you.” said the butler

“thank you, you can let her in.” replied Geithner

“Senator it's good to meet you.” Ramona spoke in a polite manor

“The Honor is all mine Ms. Hudson, please take a seat.” replied the senator.

The senator waited anxiously for his butler to leave the room.

“Ms. Hudson I fear for my life.” the senator spoke in a panicked manor.

“excuse me?” Ramona replied in disbelief

“The patriots of anarchy their going to kill me!”

Ramona knew that the patriots of anarchy had been annihilated by the FBI 4 years ago after the huge debacle by the police in chicago. In fact she had even written an article about it for her college newspaper, and foresaw an opportunity for a great article. The headline would be “Senator goes insane.”

“Please Senator continue.” Ramona spoke in a gleeful manor and even had a smirk to match.

The world is teeming with unnecessary people. Its God’s decision that I fight as a knight of honor to protect this world, and as a protector of heaven I shall sacrifice the blood of the infidels unto you oh lord.

Obadiah watched a group of so called sinners suffocate to death inside an all glass chamber within the center of the room. He smiled in a gleeful manor as he drank a glass of red wine. The suit he wore was expensive, white as snow and ironed to perfection. It almost made him look angelic. To his immediate left was his personal assistant Nathan Hale.

Nathan was the only man Obadiah ever trusted. He had taken care of everything since the Lambs of God was created. However he also handled Obadiah’s personal life. What days he was to have sex and how he should kill them for God was just fraction of his job. Under his command were several elders who took on some of the responsibilities of the ever growing church. According to a recent poll the church has continued to grow in size at an annual rate of several hundred a month. Both Obadiah and Nathan took pride in these figures. Those who attended the church included the governor himself as well as the states senators.

Nathan stood by Obadiah’s side with a cold expression over his face. He watched the people pound and claw at the glass as they screamed for mercy. The chair Obadiah sat in was almost Gothic like in its design resembling a gargoyle from the dark ages. The room however was the the exact opposite. It was a large, sterile white and echoed even the slightest noise. After a few minutes the screams had begun to fade and an awkward silence filled the room. A silence that was disturbed only by Nathans phone.

“Hello?” Nathan asked in a cautious manor.

Obadiah ignored the conversation as he walked up to the chamber, placed his hands onto the glass and peered inside.

They look…so beautiful…so…at peace.

It could only be left to the imagination as to what they really looked like. His admiration continued until he over heard Nathan.

“He’ll be thrilled to hear this.” Nathan spoke in an enthusiastic manor.

Obadiah turned around to face Nathan.

“Thrilled to hear what?” Obadiah asked in a cautious manor.

“Father Stone the book of Rapture has just outsold the bible.” Nathan spoke with great joy

Laid out over her bed listening to her favorite music artist Roman smiled as she typed the final words of the article. She felt proud of herself; attached the file to an email and sent it off to her boss. Soon after she felt her stomach growl from hunger.

Time for a celebration snack.

Ramona walked over to her fridge, grabbed a BabeRuth and started off towards her bed. She stopped just short of her bed however and right in front of a full length mirror she kept in her bedroom. She couldn't help but examine herself. That pride that once swelled within her was now replaced with self scrutiny. She found herself wishing she was as pretty as some of the models she had seen on billboards.

Ramona was by no means ugly, she had lovely complexion and was fair skinned. She stood a modest five foot six and had brown hair that went down to her shoulders. She was by no means obese however, she was slightly pudgy. She felt somewhat disgusted with herself as she poked and pulled at her stomach. At times she would panic when her jeans were tight only to realize later that she had just washed them a few hours ago.

Ramona gazed down at her candy bar before she threw it into the trash.

Ethan stood across from Senator Geithner each of their eyes locked on each other.

“You have a choice, You don’t have to do this Ethan.” the senator spoke in an anxious manor.

“that’s where your wrong Senator. I don’t have choice, you made a promise to the “Patriots of Anarchy” Senator and to me. I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about our actions, my actions, in Chicago. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m not able to kill a politician and not get away with it.”

“Obadiah will--”

“Obadiah will do nothing. Do not forget that you left his church. The only reason he’ll visit your grave is to piss on it.”

“Your plan is doomed to fail Ethan it makes no sense. You need me if you want to save yourself.”

“I'm not trying to save myself I'm trying to save my daughter. ”

The muffled gunshot echoed slightly in the room as senator Geithner fell lifeless to the floor.

I know its wrong to ask lord, but, please don’t let me fail.

Michael sat in an empty target parking lot the clock showed that it was 1:00 am. He could tell the cars that passed by wondered why a hearse was in a perking lot at that hour. He munched on some fries he had purchased at a local 24 hour fast food chain.

“Daddy did you get us anything?” Michael's two daughters spoke in unison.

Michael stood silent as his daughters sat in the back once again drenched in water.

“Why aren't you saying anything daddy?...Daddy?”

“Shut up!”

Michael found himself startled when a light was shone in his face. An officer on patrol tapped on his window. Michael lowered the window of car.

“Sir is there a problem?” the officer asked in concern

“No.” Michael replied.

“Well in any case we've gotten some complaints from the neighbors. I'm afraid you are going to have to move you vehicle sir.”

“Alright.”

Michael started the vehicle and checked his rear view mirror to see if his two daughters remained. To his relief they were no longer present.

Ramona woke up that morning and felt refreshed. She turned on her net book and went to the New York Times website expecting to see her article on the front. It was not.

Ramona stormed through the cubicles to her bosses secretary.

“Is Phill in?” Ramona asked in an angered manor

“Yes but he is talking to his wife--”

Ramona stormed into his office before the secretary could finish.

“Why the hell did you not post my story for the main headline today.” Ramona spoke in an angered tone

“Have you ever heard of knocking?” Phill replied “What if I was making love to my wife.”

Phill's wife scoffed.

“Oh please we haven't made love since your 13 year old son was born.” Mrs. Connors replied

“You're not helping, get lost” Phill replied

“Fine I'll just go run up your credit card.” Mrs. Conner replied as she left the office

“Why didn't you publish my article?” Ramona asked once more.

“You already know all stores has to be swung by the owner.” phill replied

“so.”

“so the owner is a big supporter of senator Geithner, and doesn't want him to look bad.”

“I can't believe this—”

Ramona found herself cut off when Phill's office phone had begun to ring.

“Hold that thought.” Phill answered the phone. “what?, alright thank you Tom.”

“What happened?” Ramona asked in curiosity

“Senator Geithner is dead.”

Why So Serious?

We as people will somtimes take things to serious whether its a video game or sports. at one time or another we have all done this once. a simple fact about humanity we do not like to lose. this sort of thing is worse in people with low self esteem which is true for me in particular. sometimes we forget the point is to have fun and enjoy yourself. i remember getting so upset when the cardinals lost the super bowl to the steelers. the next day i remembered this is a game. people like myself tend to do this either when were depressed nothing seems to be going right for so we project how we feel on a team we like. when that team loses it feels like you yourself lost. so you feel like a failure. in the end though i hope most realize your not a failure. let me know what you guys think out their in internet land.

Hold your ground

just a few minutes ago i gave my persuasive speech and needless to say i knocked it out of the park. just yesturday i heard a message although for little kids on psalm 91:

¹He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

²I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.

this was the best scripture i could have heard leading up to today. instead of getting scarred and panicking i actually placed my faith in God and held firm. praise the lord. he is great!

in any case as a celebration i will buy myself a fruit smoothie.

hello all (caution:only for ages 15 and up)

today is a good day and to celebrate i'm posting the very first chapter of my story please note i dont have a name for it yet. also i have not edited it yet so it will have errors throughout. anyhoo enjoy

Chapter 1

The paved road showed no end in sight. Michael gazed down the road his eyelids grew more heavy by the minute. A half empty bag of chips laid on the passenger seat, and a half empty can of soda stood in the cup holder.

“are we there yet daddy?” two girls spoke from the back seat in unison.

“no not yet.” Michael replied as he looked to the rear view mirror and saw only three coffins.

Michael had forgotten the reason that he drove to New York was to bury his family.

Am I going crazy?

Ramona laid atop her bed and starred at her blank computer screen.

AGH! I don't know what to write.

Ramona wore her black ear buds in a vain attempt to block out the sound of the storm, which as it happened had been harassing the city for several days with no end in sight. The weather channel estimated that it could become one of the longest storms this year.

Ramona was an aspiring writer. She longed to write a best seller, until then she would have to settle writing articles for the New York times. She enjoyed her work but was never recognized for it. She hoped a book would change that.

Ramona let out a frustrated sigh before she let her forehead fall upon the keyboard and caused the computer to send a barrage of various letters onto the screen. She lifted her head from the keyboard and noticed on the corner of the screen that it was 10:05 PM. She decided to give up for tonight, turned off the computer, and then yanked out her ear buds in frustration. She could now hear the full force of the storm as it pounded against her small apartment like drums.

Obadiah Stone stood naked in front of the full-length cheval mirror in his private dressing room. He smiled at the image that smiled back. He was tall, a little over six feet, and in his mid to late fifties. He was fit for his age, being an avid runner. His handsome face sported a sharp nose, perfect teeth, and wise blue eyes, all of which squeezed together into a stunning and well-practiced smile. This noble visage was crowned with a thick crop of dark hair just turning white around the temples. He looked like a politician, or maybe a doctor. Certainly a dignitary of some sort. Certainly someone of influence and affluence.

He turned to the side to view his profile and sucked in his stomach. A picture of health. A picture of strength. A picture of vitality. He flashed another winning smile and raised his arms.

“I am beauty.” He whispered. His words bounced through the empty room. “I am beauty.”

He lowered his arms. His hair was perfect. Not a strand was out of place. He gently ran his hand over his hair. It was smooth, soft, warm. The haircut was expensive. It was, in a word, perfect.

He suddenly plunged his hands into that perfect hair. His fingers scraped heavily against his skull. He scratched and scraped violently, tossing his hair about as his fingernails dug into the thick skin. First hunks of hair, then skin, then blood dirtied that perfect head. He dug more deeply, causing tiny rivulets of blood to run down his face and around his ears.

“I am beauty.”

The smile remained as he smeared the blood across his cheeks and nose, eventually tracing it to his lips. He licked his fingers.

... Beauty . . ..”

The dark blood ran down his neck, shoulders, chest and back, tiny rivers of wasted life tracing their suicidal trail over his strong features. Obadiah placed his hands on his hips and grinned maniacally, his gleaming and perfectly aligned teeth stained with blood. Slowly he began to turn around and around before the mirror, his reflection a captured but willing audience.

“God, god, god, god,” he sing-songed. “Beautiful, beautiful . . .. God . . .”

He stopped abruptly and faced himself as if for the first time. He uttered a loud expletive.

“Who did this to you?” his hands flew to his face, his eyes wild with fear. “Who hurt you, my beautiful one?”

With strong slapping, he tried to put his wild hair back into place, matting it wetly against his cranium.

“No, no, no, no, no!” He slapped himself, hard. “No! Not you! Not my dear one! NO!” He crashed his fist into the mirror, shattering it into countless deadly shards. He sank to his knees, tears coursing down his bloodied face. “Not again, beauty. Not again. I love you.” He picked up a dagger of glass and stared into it. The bloodied beast that glared back at him scared him. “I love you, Father Stone.”

The train whistled its signature tune, and startled Michael from his chair. He hadn’t realized that he had fallen asleep. He got off the chair, and felt his back throbbing. He stood up stretched and felt several snaps echo through his back and left him sore.

I’m not as young as I used to be.

Michael looked to his watch and was surprised to see that it was nine am. To his dismay he missed the sunrise.

“Attention passengers!” yelled a voice over the PA. “We will be arriving soon in Amtrak station 445 located in downtown Manhattan. We ask that all passengers gather their belongings before we arrive at the station. All hail Father Obadiah.”

Who the hell is Obadiah?

Michael felt as if he had heard the name before. He pondered the name for a few minutes, as he struggled to slide open the rusted door. He was able to open the door a crack before breaking off the handle.

Crap! I knew I should have left the door open.

Frustrated Michael took the sleeve of his shirt and rubbed off the thick film from the window. He didn’t care to try to figure out what it was. What he did know was that it smelled terrible.

I liked this shirt too.

Michael looked through the window and saw a janitor, in a futile attempt to clean the bathroom. The smell of urine that emanated from the crack in the door made him cringe.

That’s why I didn’t leave the door open!

“Excuse me!” Michael yelled through the door. It seemed however that the janitor didn’t hear him. “HELLO!” he yelled again. This time the janitor seemed to hear him.

“What are you doing out there! Its strictly prohibited.” the janitor replied

“I'm sorry I didn't know! I was just admiring the view, and got locked out!” Michael yelled

The janitor begrudgingly went over to the door. He slid the door open with ease, and then gave Michael an angry look before he walked away.

“Sorry.” Michael said as the janitor stormed off.

The first room Michael entered was once a waiting room. The once elaborately beautiful chairs that stood in that room had now been covered in stains. The chairs even emitted a foul odor that he couldn’t describe. The floor which was once made of marble was now covered in dark black and yellow stains. He found himself annoyed by the fly’s that continued to buzz around his face. He started down past the decrepit bathroom stalls where his footsteps echoed throughout. The only other sound was that of men urinating and masturbating in the stalls. It went without saying that he was disgusted by the sounds he heard. He awkwardly walked past the janitor and into the passenger car. This room didn’t look any better than the restroom.

Michael started down past the cabins. He found that the smell or urine seemed to get worse. It also seemed that the closer he got to his cabin the louder the noises seemed to get. The sound of men throwing up or snoring obnoxiously echoed throughout the hallway. He wondered how these people could afford to travel. Perhaps this was the wrong train, perhaps his had arrived and this train was being used to transfer homeless people. His realized he was wring when he saw a cabin was marked with his name. Across from his cabin the sound of loud moaning and heavy breathing echoed in his head. He didn’t even want to try to figure out what was going on in that cabin. He entered his cabin and locked the door. He remembered the train for what it used to be, it used to be a train for the wealthy. The floors were once finely polished wood. Now the floors were rotting from lack of care. Painted a nasty brown; or rather he hoped it was paint.

Michael remembered that one time very elaborate silk curtains hung from the windows. How the beds used to have silk sheets. He even remembered how soft the beds used to be. For a brief second he saw the room for what it used to be. He even imagined his wife starring out the window. He felt tears roll down his face and as his vision became blurry he slammed his fist against the door.

Michael was startled awake by the sound of a car horn. He was shocked to see he was on the wrong side of the road and quickly swerved to avoid hitting a semi. He heaved in anxiety as the car came to a stop.

That train...i remember it. Its the same one we took on our honeymoon I remember it being a lot nicer though. In my dream though it looked terrible what could have happened to make it look that way?

Ramona rushed past the cubical's looking for the number 25 which was her desk. Today she also happened to be late and hoped her boss wouldn't spot her.

Ramona heaved a sigh of relief as she sat in her chair.

Thank goodness he didn't spot me.

“Your late again Ramona. come see me in my office right now!” Said her boss as he walked bye

“aw man!” replied Ramona in disappointment.

Phil the editor and chief of the new york times waited for Ramona. She walked in, in a cautious manor with her head down.

“take a seat.” said Phil

Roman did as instructed.

“so lets hear it. Why are you late.” Phil asked

“my car broke down.” Ramona replied

“you don't own a car.”

“my bike was stolen.”

“you don't own a bike either.”

“both my legs were broken.”

“...”

“i got better”

“Ramona! Do you realize how badly I want to fire you right now? I should to... do you know why I wont?”

“because you'll feel bad about adding another homeless person to the streets?”

“no. its because your work is great. Top notch. But I can find a dozen more like you by scouring the collages. So do me a favor okay show up on time for work and do your paperwork.”

Phil found himself interrupted when his phone rang.

“if you'll excuse me I need to take this call.” said phil

“yes sir.” Ramona replied

“hello” phill said as he picked up his phone. “really? Hang on a second bob.” “Ramona!”

Ramona was startled just as she was about to leave the office. She quickly turned to face phil and smiled politely.

“i want you to head down to senator Geithners office and interview him about the new bill their voting on this weekend.” Said Phil

“can't Tim go?” she replied

“Ramona!”

“I'm going.”

I hate interviewing senators.

OH MY GOSH AN UPDATE!

Hello my one random reader who likely lives in some third world country like Mongolia... yeah.

So time for some good news to break all this bad stuff. although my life is still filled with hurdles God somehow gets me through it.

Moment of truth current grades for school

Speech A-90%

Math A-96%

Government A-93%

English Midterm B

English report unknown as of not.

anyhoo heres my report below.

unfortunetly the images wont show.

Cigarette Ads and health through the years

“Why not have a cigarette? It's good for your health.”

Smoking has been around for centuries. When the tobacco companies invented cigarettes, cigarette ads were born. Whether it was Hollywood's finest endorsing it on paper or in films, it enticed thousands of people into smoking by making it look cool. However, with this increased popularity came increased scrutiny on whether or not it was healthy for a person to smoke on a consistent basis. As technology increased, the health risks of cigarettes had begun to surface. The cigarette industry found themselves in a situation they had never encountered before. They now had to convince people that smoking a cigarette was good for a person's health. The following ads showcase this in different ways.

Figure 1 has the opening slogan: “Guard against throat-scratch.” It implies that cigarettes can be medicinal against a dry throat and possibly a sore throat. Even though it claims this, it is likely that the company is pandering to the uneducated masses. After all, smoke is hot air and would dry a throat out further; any educated individual would have known this. The ad goes on to state: “the finest quality money can buy.” Not only is it stating that it's medicinal, but that it is also good quality. It is likely that they are making the point that it is a great value and ought to be purchased.

This figure shows a picture of what seems to be a couple both smoking a cigarette, and having a good time. This implies not only that smoking is fun, but that in order to have fun, one should smoke. It then shows a man dressed in fine clothes holding a pack of cigarettes out to the viewer. In essence, it is saying, “Come join us.” Within the ad is a sidebar and it advertises another aspect of the cigarette. It states: “Mildness you can measure.” It shows a picture of a man lighting a cigarette for a woman who looks calm and content. At the bottom of the sidebar it shows the same woman, except now she's excited. It then states: “Outstanding and they are mild,” which is likely saying that even though its not strong, it tastes great.

Figure 2 continues the health trend. It takes a more direct approach with it's message instead of a subliminal one. It gains the attention of the reader with the phrase: “More doctors smoke camels than any other cigarettes.” It then shows a picture of a female doctor or nurse with a serious expression on her face. It gives the impression that the company takes this very seriously. Its also likely that the company is pandering to those who take smoking very seriously. Below the eye catching aspect of the ad is the image of a woman with a smile on her face, with an out line of a T over her mouth and throat. It says: “Try camels on your T zone,” and is likely their way of saying try this brand and see if it tastes and feels good. Below this image the ad goes on with the words: “costlier tobaccos.” It is likely that they are trying to convince weary readers that even though the brand is expensive it is worth the money because it is of the finest quality.

Figure 3 starts with the phrase: “It's better to be fit than fat.” It then says: “Don't eat between meals.” The first phrase attracts the reader to wonder what this brand talking about as well as attract those who might be overweight. The second phrase is telling the reader that, instead of eating, you should smoke. Beside these two phrases is the image of a well dressed man wearing a hat. This gives the reader the impression that well to do people buy these cigarettes. Behind the man is the shadow of an overweight man which suggests to readers that he would be fat if he did not smoke cigarettes.

These three ads show cigarette ads in the their early stages of trying to fight off health critics. As the years passed by, cigarette companies would have to slowly eliminate the use of catchy phrases and eye catching images in favor of questionable facts to help deter health critics. However, despite this, cigarette corporations still find themselves backed into a corner by doctors and the government, and possibly coming to terms with the fact that the age of the cigarette might be coming to an end.

The need to succeed

This is going to be a bit of a personal post. It's also a bit of a look inside how my thinking is.

I believe a few posts ago i mentioned i have a desire to prove myself and today i'm elaborating on that so here goes.

For as long as i could remember i've always felt i had to prove myself. in everything i do. no one has ever called me an idiot but if someone was condescending towards me sometimes i feel like an idiot whether they were joking or not. Its their fault its my fault i take it the wrong way or i let it stay in my mind and of course the enemy is not going to pass up the opportunity to make me feel stupid.

I see how smart my other family members and feel i need to out do them. when i get that A grade on whatever test i may have taken i feel great. but only lasts that day. the next day i feel stupid once again. even if i got a PhD is physics i'd probable still feel i need to prove myself.

If i win something i feel great like i just conquered a mountain. but when i fail i feel like crud like an idiot. i have to succeed i need to succeed. i hate that part about myself i don't feel like i'm good enough.

not good enough to meet a girl and lord willing get married. not good enough to get good grades. not a good enough writer, and many other things that i'm sure i could think of if i had the time.

Oh lord take this burden that has been plaguing my life away. I ask God that alot. perhaps he wants me to fight my way out of it. in which case God your a big meanie.

Anyhoo just felt like writing that tootles.

The week ends on a high note

For those of you who read my blog still you will now that I've been having some very hard times as of late but throughout that time God never stopped helping me. although to be honest at times it felt that way. In any case this week ended on a very high note.

Behold my grades for school all glory goes to the lord.

Math: A

English: A

Speech: A (Also according to my teacher i'm at the top of my class. Praise God)

Government: B-

Almost straight A's oh well.

I'm alive

just to let everyone know i am alive do not worry. things have just been a tad rough. but to break the trend of bad news i have good news. i got a B on my government exam and my speech went over really well. people told me i sounded confident and professional. although not enough to satisfy my odd desire to prove myself to be "smart enough". whatever that means when i find i'll let you know. For some time now i have been praying about a few things i'll guys know what it is when i get the chance.

Whats going on?

I feel trapped in a dream and i can't get out i instead fall deeper and deeper and no matter how hard i fight, it slowly becomes a nightmare. i knew from the get go that making my decision would lead to a long and hard war.

I'm confident that God will see me through i just need to keep myself from going crazy. fingers crossed.

rough draft 3

The Mist

The Mist started with an opening that has been used in almost all horror movies to date. This movie, however, leaves behind all cliche elements at the opening credits and quickly distinguishes itself among a plethora of poorly made horror movies. It takes the audience on an emotional and horrific ride and leaves one to ponder the ending for days.

The Mist begins with a storm while David Drayton (Thomas Jane) is in a room painting several posters. He is interrupted when the power turns off and is forced to go to the basement with his family until the storm passes. In the morning it's discovered that power lines have been knocked down along with trees and various other buildings. David, along with his son and next door neighbor Brent Norton (Andre Braugher) head out to buy food and supplies from the local market. While there a mist surrounds the building. Writer and director Frank Darabont uses these visuals throughout the film to show proper way horror should be done.

According to IMDB.com, Frank Darabont directed several other adaptations of various Stephen King novels, which included The Shawshank Redemption and The Green Mile. He uses his past experience to perfect his skill in creating a tense atmosphere throughout the film. Though a storm has been overdone, the director uses it at the beginning to immediately make the audience uneasy. He takes it a step further and introduces a loud siren, just as the market is surrounded by the mysterious mist while the locals watch in fright.

The director uses visual imagery and common fears to prey on his audience. The mist itself provides one of the most common, the fear of the unknown. This fear is reinforced with echoing screams emanating from the mysterious thick cloud. It is taken a step further when several panicked pedestrians run into the grocery store screaming that something is out there. Despite the setting being a large market filled with several dozen people, it is used to create a tense atmosphere and make the moviegoers feel uncomfortable.

Images are commonly used to put moviegoers into fear. Several scenes in the film give a good example of what can be done on a modest budget. As a man is dragged off into the mist by an unknown creature, he screams for help. Another scene shows a bus full of dead schoolchildren covered in cob webs, There is also a scene in which its discovered that several people have committed suicide because their situation seemed hopeless followed by yet another scene where a man discovers his wife has been mangled by creatures.

All the visual images in the world would have fallen flat if it were not for the terrific actors the director cast for the film. They offered a deep sense of realism, despite the fact that the film includes not of this world creatures that roam around in the mist. Although the film includes a large cast of characters, the director manages to get the audience to care about each of the individuals safety. The cast acts in a way that most viewers can emotionally relate to, such as a mother who leaves the grocery store in a desperate bid to find her children. Another example is David Drayton's next door neighbor Brent Norton who refuses to believe that something is out in the mist despite obvious proof. Some characters in the film will frustrate moviegoers such as Mrs. Carmody (Marcia Gay Harden), who has been branded as the town religious fanatic. She begins to convince people that the mist is the “end of days” and that it requires the unbelievers to be sacrificed to it.

Director Frank Darabont recruited the crew responsible for filming the drama series “The Shield” according to Imdb.com. Their expertise in dramatic camera angles help further the atmosphere in the movie, showing the characters' sanity slowly dissipate as the film progresses. Audiences will notice the obvious differences from the beginning of the film where the characters were well rested and towards the end of the film where the characters look haggard.

Throughout the film the audience is taken to mainly two locations, the market and a drug store. The director satisfies moviegoers' curiosity of the outside world by giving a brief but powerful look at the destruction that has befallen the small town.

The Mist offers audiences a sobering outlook at the frailty of humanity and mankind. Just like his previous films, director Frank Darabont manages to make every scene intense and captivating. When the end credits roll, he leaves the audience speechless and in shock. This is a movie highly recommended.

Welcome to a new year

its a new year that isn't stating off like i had hoped... Lord give me strength.

in any case heres a rough draft of my evaluation paper.

The Mist

The movie begins with a storm while David Drayton (Thomas Jane) is in a room painting several posters, he is interrupted when the power turns off and is forced to go to the basement with his family until the storm passes. In the morning it is discovered power lines have been knocked down along with trees and various other structures. David along with his son and next door neighborhood Brent Norton (Andre Braugher) head off to buy food and supplies from the local market. While there the place becomes surrounded by mist. Frank Darabont writer and director manages to show the proper way horror should be done.

The Mist starts off with an opening that has been used in almost all horror movies to date. This movie however leaves behind all cliche elements at the start of the movie and distinguishes itself among a plethora of badly done horror movies. It takes the audience on an emotional and horrific ride and leaves one pondering the ending for days.

According to IMDB.com Frank Darabont has directed several other adaptations of various Stephen King novels, which include the “Shawshank Redemption” and “The Green Mile”. He uses his past experience to perfect his skill in creating a tense atmosphere. Even though a storm has been overdone the director uses it at the beginning of this film to immediately make the audience uneasy. He takes it a step further and introduces a loud siren, just as the market is surrounded by the mysterious mist while the locales watch in fright.

Most scares in this film come from the visual imagery and common fears that the director uses to prey on his audience. The mist itself providing one of the most common that being the fear of the unknown, and reinforces this fear with echoing screams that emanate form the mysterious thick cloud. As well as several panicked pedestrians who run into the market screaming that something is out there. Although the setting is a large market it is filled with several dozen people and will give the viewer a sense of claustrophobia.

Images are used to shock the audience into fear several scenes give a perfect example of this such as man screaming as hes dragged of into the mist by an unknown creature, as well as a scene that shows a bus full of dead schoolchildren covered in cob webs. The cob webs help to instill a fear of the giant spiders that roam around the mist, or any other bug for that matter. A scene where several soldiers commit suicide because the situation seems hopeless. As well as a scene where a man discovers his wife has been brutally killed by one of the creatures.

All the visual images in the world would have fallen flat if it were not for the terrific actors the director cast for the film to offer a deep sense of realism, despite the fact the movie includes other worldly creatures that roam around in the mist. Although the film includes a large cast of characters the director manages get the audience to care about each of the individuals safety. The characters act in a way that most viewers can relate to and even see themselves in characters, such as a mother who goes off into the mist in a desperate bid to find her children. As well as David Draytons next door neighbor Brent who refuses to believe that something is in the mist despite obvious proof. Some characters will frustrate the audience such as Mrs. Carmody (Marcia Gay Harden) the town “crazy”begins to convince people that the mist is the end of days and requires the unbelievers to be sacrificed to it.

According to Imdb.com Director Frank Darabont recruited the crew responsible for filming the drama series “The Shield”. Their expertise in dramatic camera angles would help further atmosphere in the movie as well as the sanity that is slowly getting drained form the characters throughout the film. Audiences will see the obvious differences where at the beginning of the film the characters are well rested and at the near end of the film where the characters look haggard.

Throughout the film the audience only sees a couple locations those being the market and a drug store. Knowing the audiences curiosity at the end of the film the director satisfies us by giving a brief but powerful look at the destruction that has befallen the small town.

The mist offers audiences a sobering outlook on humanity and human. Just like his previous films Director Frank Darabont manages to make every scene intense and captivating and when the end credits roll he will have left the audience speechless and in shock. This is a movie highly recommended.