Final Project

Trifles

Breaking News

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   Welcome my hatters and hares to my lovely findings of truth. As of late I have been following the death of a man in a small town. The victim known as John Wright was apparently murdered by his wife Minnie in the early hours Sunday morning. The murder was discovered by a Mr. Hale Monday morning. Over the next several day I shall be following the course of the investigation and trial. 

Update:Wednesday 9:12 a.m. 

   The early teapot gets the earl gray my hatters and hares. This morning I spoke with the sheriff who is looking over the case. He informed me of the morning the murder was discovered. A man who I shall refer to as Mr. Hale discovered the body of the victim. Apparently he had come to speak with Mr. Wright, but only found Mrs. Wright sitting in her chair pleating her apron, and acting in a very curious manner. After this little bit of information he told me how I could be of help, which is basically telling me what I could and could not put in my articles. Well if it helps justice prevail what can you do?

Update: Wednesday 12:30 p.m. 

   Interesting (not exciting) news my lovely hatters and hares! After examining the body, it was discovered that victim had skin under his fingernails. After closing examination it was identified as his wife Minnie's. After speaking with the sheriff I was informed that the wife would be sent to have a physical done. For my readers who are not familiar with criminal investigations, or forensic science I will explain. For the victim, Mr. Wright, to have his wife's skin under his nails would mean he would have to scratched her obviously. This small piece of evidence could prove a struggle between the husband and wife that night of his murder. I don’t want to push any theories, until I have fact to prove them. At this time, I don’t want to influence anyone that could possibly read this. What was that old line? ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ Something along those lines my hatters and hares.

Update: Thursday 11:30 a.m.

   Hello again my wonderful readers. Yesterday afternoon I met two wonderful ladies who knew Mr. and Mrs. Wright. After much hesitation on their part I manage to get a word with them. They have asked for me not to reveal their names in this article, and because of the whole on-going investigation I will have to withhold any thing that could possibly be considered as evidences, or clues, in this investigation. During the conversation I learned that one of the ladies use to be good friends with Mrs. Wright. She informed me that she use to visit Mrs. Wright often and that she was a lovely woman with a lovely voice. As time went by the woman stopped visiting the Wrights. According to her the atmosphere in the house became unkind and cold. Mrs. Wright use to keep a songbird in her home. The two women found the bird dead in a small box. The cage it lived in had been ripped open, the poor bird appeared to be strangled. The more I thought of this the more irony I saw in it. Mrs. Wright seemed to be like her poor songbird, once full of life and joy...then an unseen force snips out that fire that lights our lives. For one reason or another this woman’s joy and life seemed to be drained from her. Her fire started to dwindle, until maybe it was finally snuffed out.

Update: Monday 9:45 p.m. 

   It has been a long week my hares and hatters...or was it hatters and hares? Anyway the trail started today. It has been exhausting keeping track of everything. I would go off into a rant, but lets try and keep this professional. During the trial the reports of the physical Mrs. Wright underwent were released. It appeared that not only did they find scratches that further prove the theory of a struggle,......but they found bruising as well on this women. Now this is the part that gets me a little emotional. The lawyers and attorneys and big power law men few the jury a tale that described Mrs. Wright as a clumsy woman. Sure her husband might have tapped her a bit too hard sometimes, but it was nothing to be concerned about. Excuse me? Yeah I accidently said that outloud, and proceeded to almost get thrown out of the courtroom.....opps....Seriously though....their excuse, yeah they made an excuse for a dead guy, was how Mrs. Wright wasn’t doing her household duties. That she sometimes needed a reminder of her place in the household....I sat there for a moment, and I started to take a good look at this woman. I couldn’t see any sign of physical bruising, but I could see a sad women. In this women sat something, something deep down that maybe she hadn’t even accepted as truth....the death of her husband? The lies or maybe even truth these men spouted? Some secret that she has held so close that it has taken her over. I know I’m usually a fun writer with all Wonderland references, but I can’t seem to find anything but melancholy with this my hatters and hares. Tomorrow we hear what Mrs. Wright’s lawyers have to say. I hope I can keep my own sanity and keep down my inner Queen of Hearts.

Update: Tuesday 10:30 p.m.

   So my hatters and hares today I’m just going to jump in. The tale Mrs. Wrights lawyers decided to go with was a tragic tale. At this point I really don’t know what’s truth or fact or just outright nonsense. Tonight you are going to see a new form of my writing. Something I can’t help, I’m going to pull away my thoughts from this more so than usual. I’m strictly going to report what the lawyers said. So the story begins with the death of a songbird. A songbird that Mrs. Wright loved very dearly as she had no children of her own. This bird was her companion and kept her cheerful during the long days of housework. After the birds ‘disappearance’ the loneliness slowly got to her. The woman became lonely and depressed during the days while her husband was out working. In the end basically the said her mental state deteriorated, and that night she finally snapped. She could no longer take the abuse of her husband, and was simply acting out on self defense. This is where I’m going to step back in my hatters and hares. These people don’t know this women...I don’t even know this women. I have eyes though, I have eyes and I have a mind of my own. Sure there is more to law then I know, but these lawyers and big shots are just telling a story. A story of an abusive relationship physical or not. These men are forcing the idea that all women belong in the kitchen down the courtrooms throat! Mrs. Wright use to be a young woman, as all girls are at some point in their lives. At this point in life there is so much potential....Mrs. Wright had the sucked from her. The little trifles that brought her joy were smashed before her eyes. That could lead anyone to anything, not just murdering your husband. 

Sometime later....after thoughts.

   The trial adjourned well...a while ago and the verdict was said. Mrs. Wright was found guilty on the charges of murdering her husband. Sometimes you can’t do anything to help anyone. Sometimes the truth just isn’t loud enough. I can’t sit here and pretend I know how this all happened. Sometimes matters have to be taken into your own hands. Sadly there are two rules in time traveling; don’t touch anything, don’t speak to anyone. A journey to the past is for viewers only. The timeline can not be changed, and should never be altered. Still I had to see how this all happened, I had to know if Mrs. Wright was really guilty or not. So I found myself outside the Wright’s house early Sunday, the moon was high in the sky still. It was the hour of dreams and peace, but I heard screams that did not comply to this. When one travels through time they have to option to become a layer to that time sequence. In my case I am an invisible layer, kinda like in photoshop terms, this is a precaution so I don’t accidentally change the space and time continuum. Upon entering the house I found there to me one too many heads. In the corner was Mr. Wright tied up as his wife was hit several times by a masked man. I watched in horror as Mr. Wright tried to free himself of his restraints until he eventually broke free and attempted to struggle with the man. During this struggle Mrs. Wright was caught in the crossfire receiving several scratches in the process. Eventually the intruder managed to get the upper hand and restrain Mr. Wright again. This time to make sure the man no longer get in the way he quickly tied together a noose. Things quickly came together as the man hung Mr. Wright, until he was dead. Never once did anyone notice that Mrs. Wright was too small to overthrow and hang her husband. Once Mr. Wright was dead the man cut him down and moved back to Mrs. Wright. The thing about time travel is that you can change history, and you can change lives. Kinda like with journalism. Some time travelers like myself do it for good, while other....don’t have pure intentions. Now where am I going with this? Well the masked man was a time traveler himself. He, or she for all I really know, forced Mrs. Wright to take something I’m not use to seeing. It’s a prescription drug that allows you to forget traumatic events. I’ve only heard of it a few times as it has dire mood and mental altering side effects. 

   Sometimes you show up to help....and sometimes you show up too late. The past can’t be changed, and thats why I find it so important that one searches for the truth before it is too late. This is where I leave you my lovely hatters and hares, I leave you at a crossroad. I myself have learned to further look past what is presented before me. I leave you to decide if you shall do the same.

The Tragic Tale of Madness

Have you ever had one of those day where everyone you loved was plotting your murder? Well this week on our trip down the rabbit hole I’m going to introduce you all to The Prince of Denmark, Hamlet. Now we all think we know what a prince’s life style would be like. All glamorized and never having a care in the world. Well we really don’t see this in Hamlet’s ‘story’. So my loyal Hatters and Hares let us start our journey.

We begin with a quick background story. Hamlet’s father, King Hamlet, was murdered by his brother Claudius. Then to pour more salt into the wound Claudius married his dead brother’s wife Gertrude. So no this isn’t a happy tale with a happy ending, this is a tragedy fueled by greed and revenge.

How would you feel if your father was killed just so someone else could be king? Hamlet was already upset with his father’s death, then his mother marries his uncle. Then to top it off his new stepfather tries to rid the world of Prince Hamlet. In my opinion I don’t think we need to question this Prince’s mental stability. He had been through so much in such a short time. He was a madman with a box...only he didn’t have a box.

Could you imagine having your best friend payed off to turn against you. The one person Hamlet could possibly trust is his friend Horatio, whom he (Hamlet) trust until his dying breath. He implores his last friend to stave off death until his story has been told. Calling this a rough time would be shamefully undermining the situation.

Personally I wasn’t there when this event occurred, but there is one major fact I would like to discuss. Hamlet was called mad by several people after his father died. There is even an account of his father’s ghost visiting him and telling him of the treason Claudius has committed. Now most of you probably went ‘ghosts, that's nonsense.,’ but during this time ghosts weren’t an uncommon belief. So to Hamlet he felt like he was truly speaking to his father, and when the ghost told him to seek revenge...he sought it. So like I said, not the glamorized royalty our culture knows so well. Once Hamlet is given the order he believes this to be his fate even if it causes his own death. He doesn’t try to stray away from his fate, he looks at it dead on and never looks back.

Now lets introduce Ophelia, Hamlet’s girlfriend. At first her father believes that Ophelia is just a...well toy for Hamlet. He doesn’t think Hamlet loves his daughter, but when the madness of Hamlet begins he claims that he is ‘madly in love’ with his daughter. As things continue Hamlet confronts her and tells her she could put herself in a nunnery. Going on that he would ban all marriages if he could. Hamlet has already accepted his fate, but he doesn’t see how it affects others. After breaking up with Ophelia Hamlet kills her father thinking it was Claudius. It seems as if maybe his own madness has infected the poor girl. Some argue that her death is a suicide, that she drowned in the water, but with this being a royal family...we might never know the truth. The only person to witness this act was Queen Gertrude.

Hamlet is sent to England after he murder’s Ophelia’s father. Once he learns his is to be killed upon arriving in England, he knows he has to return home. Knowing he can’t get his father's revenge if he’s dead. Upon arriving he is challenged a fencing match by Ophelia’s brother. Laertes was told of Hamlet murdering his father and of his sister’s death. His weapon is sharpened by Claudius so that he might further hurt Hamlet. Claudius then has the blade poisoned, but he wants to make sure this match will lead in Hamlet’s death. So incase his stepson/nephew scores the first point he has a goblet of poison to offer him.

I don’t know about my Hatters and Hares, but keeping up with all this is making me a bit mad. In the end Hamlet does get the revenge for his father...only it ends in his own death. His mother had accidently drank the poison he forces Claudius to consume it as well. Laertes was injured by the poisoned blade leading him to his demise. Then we have  Fortinbras who has been lurking about the whole time walk in to find he will now ascend the throne.

Give me a moment to reclaim my own sanity. This story is just mind boggling to dig through. A writer like me that is determined to find out the truth of the past....this one is so difficult. The only real account of the story we have in the end is Horatio’s. Then we have Fortinbras who for all we know was just playing his cards right. This story is one you have to take into consideration. We have very little way of proving these events and how they happened and even if they did.

This is a tragic tale, one that you simply can’t take for granted. To many people gained something from another’s death. Claudius received the crown after killing his brother. Fortinbras got the crown after Claudius and Hamlet died. So is this a tragic fate, or is there greed that has been hidden over the years. With that I will leave you all with your thoughts. Until next time my lovely Hatters and Hares.

Where Have You Been, Where are You Going

It was a bright sunny Sunday afternoon. The kind that one would spend outside reading and drinking tea. Instead I was to be spending it inside a cool air conditioned room with my new friend Connie. Recently Connie escaped her would be kidnapper Arnold. I met her at her home, as she refused to leave her home since the kidnapping. Her parents had reported her missing as soon as they returned home. The next afternoon a police officer recognized her from a missing poster that had been around the area. She was rescued and her would be kidnappers where place in jail and were awaiting trial.

Entering the home I looked around to as Connie’s mother announces me to the girl. The bright sunny day doesn’t reach the home and the air is frigid and tense. I am met by June Connie’s older sister who is around the same age as me. She tells me about her sister and how they use to be the polar opposites.

“My sister always went to hang with friends, they seemed to find it like a game to get the boy’s to notice them. It seems that every girl her age believes to know everything, but doesn’t understand there are things and people that can hurt them.”

“Its like when Alice realizes that Wonderland isn’t such the fantastic place like she believes it to be.” I spoke thinking of the best parallel I can. Throughout time there seemed to be so many stories like this, people praying on the innocents of the youth.

Soon enough a fragile girl entered the room. The girl I had seen in pictures and heard about from June wasn’t visible in the girl in front of me. All I could see was the broken shell that once was this girl.

“Hello there Connie, my name is Diana Cheshire I’m so glad to finally meet you.” I gave the girl a small smile and tried to make her relax. I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or bring up anything that might frighten her. “Would you mind if I ask you a few questions, or would you just like to talk?”

The girl hesitated for a moment, this once social butterfly had wrapped herself in a cocoon. Harsh reality had crushed her under its weight and she couldn’t find the light. “Talking would be nice.”

“Mkay then what would you like to talk about?” I said with a small smile as her mother went to make us tea. Her sister stayed beside the girl for support and she probably didn’t want to stay in a room with someone so unfamiliar to her.

“What exactly are you?” She asked looking straight at me for the first time. Smiling softly at the girl as I pulled out the lanyard that had my information on it. I handed it to her for her to examine it.

“I’m a freelance journalist. I write stories and articles, then different newspapers and magazines publish them.” The girl nodded, but it seemed she refused to relax at all. I didn't want to force her to speak, but I still needed something.

“So....did you come to write my story?”

“If you will let me...then yes.”

“Well...what do you want to know?”

“Tell me what really happened Sunday afternoon?”

“I was letting my hair dry in the sun when I heard someone come to the door...” She stopped for a moment not sure if she wanted to retell the story again. It must have been painful for her, to have your entire world, everything you know to be shattered. Growing up your home is a safe haven, nothing there is suppose to harm you. That was shattered for Connie, I could see it in her that this place would never be 'safe' again.

“Why don’t you tell me how this has changed you?” The question startled her and it seemed she was confused. “If you're uncomfortable telling the story, maybe tell how you feel about it.”

“I use to go out with my friends...it seemed like a game back then. Like if a boy noticed you that equaled winning. Never did we say it was a game, but know it looks that way. Everything use to be exciting and I couldn’t wait to grow up, but now...I’m scared.” Right then and there was when I saw the glass shatter. The little butterfly was trying so hard to wrap herself back in her cocoon for her wings had several holes, but it wasn’t possible. “These guys had been watching me for months and I never knew. I was the pawn in their sick game.”

As tragic as Connie’s story is...it isn't uncommon. Girls and boys get taken all the time, their childhood innocence is stolen. It’s not fair, but its something that is hard to stop. Once something like this is broken it can’t be fixed. Connie will hopefully one day get past this terrifying experience, but she’ll never be a child again. We could call her lucky, how she got out of this alive and for the most part unharmed. There is nothing lucky about what has happened to this girl, she was taken from her home and all the familiar things there. Now she’s in a completely different world with a completely different view. Sure nothing has really changed, but Connie has.

The time of silly games and giggling gossip has changed into suspicion and awareness. The rainbow world that once look so fascinating is now fill with something more terrifying than monsters. These monsters are what we call the ‘bad guys’, but to them there is nothing wrong with what they do. That’s what makes it so terrifying and sick. There is not a bright light or a happy ending to this story. As much as we wish for a happy ending there is not one.

The Truth of the Lottery

During my trip down the rabbit hole, I came across the most curious little town. At first it seemed very normal and average. Everyone had their normal lives and went about them in an old fashion way. Nothing ever seemed to changed, and they enjoyed it that way. They invited me to their own annual event, something they called ‘The Lottery’. At first I was thrilled at the idea!  I had never attended just a peculiar event before...but my eagerness and excitement were disgustingly misplaced.

When entering a different society, one should always be open minded. During this trip I had to remind myself of this. Unlike the lotteries all of you are familiar with, you know where the winner gets an amazing prize. In this town the prize isn't at all amazing, whoever ‘wins’ is stoned to death by their friends and family. No One protests, or objects, they all confirmed while I stood there in horror.

After it was all said and done these people went on with their lives. There seemed to be no mourning, and the families just went home without another word. This ‘Lottery’ easily earned a spot in my top ten oddest concepts. When the event ended I really wanted to just leave, but sometimes we have to do things that are difficult for us. I did this for you all, so that no one will hopefully ever attempt this again. So let us try and learn from these people even if its just to understand them.

Digging through dead lead after dead lead I still hunted for answers. No one could remember the purpose for this horrific game. That’s all it was to them...a children’s game. Everyone was happy as long as it wasn't them being stoned to death. Children had eagerly gathered stones, and no one ever spoke against what was happening. Mr Warner informed me that the lottery separated this town from the barbarians.

Separates them from the barbarians...I have to be honest, it made my stomach turn. Still these people lived through it every year, apparently for generations. It was embedded into their mind that this was okay. Mr. Summer’s took the time to explain to me what he knew. This tradition had a long history, and with anything historical, we knew things get changed and things fade. It’s kinda like that game you play when you’re a kid, the one where you get in a circle and whisper a word or phrase to each other then the last person says it out loud. Its usually gibberish or something of the nonsense nature. Well that’s what we have here.

Let us take a moment to look at some facts before we cast a verdict. (Remember the Queen of Hearts is the only one allowed to judge without all the facts).

1) Every year this town chooses one person to be stoned.
2) No on is upset over stoned someone, unless they are the one being stoned.
3) Only two parts about this ritual are remembered, the black box they draw from and     

the stoning. Now they use to put chips of wood to draw, but now they use paper.

4) These people are completely okay with it, they fully accept this.

I can’t say if what they are doing is right or wrong. To them it is a tradition, and traditions are something people don’t let go of easily. It’s almost like a safety net for them, once a year they have this person to take all their anger and frustration out on. Maybe in the old days this was a human sacrifice to appease the gods of old. Say their was a bad crop, well all they had to do was pick someone to kill off, and they all participate to appease this god...so no one speaks out to so they don’t see the god’s wrath. On another note, maybe this is a ritual to forgive the town of it’s sins. For those of you who remember my article on the Hunger Games I spoke about how they have a ‘reaping’. The Hunger Games were an object to instill fear into the districts to conform, claiming that the games were nothing more than a way to forgive the districts from rebelling a generation ago.

In this town these people conform in a very similar matter. They attack this person they once knew, as a neighbor, a friend, a mother, a sibling, a human being. In a split second all of that is taken from the winner. There is no good-bye or I’m sorry, just go and get your stones and lets get this over with.

So in final I still do not know what to think of these people. We will leave this topic on this note, and maybe one day we can come back with the answers. In light of this grim event stay true my lovely readers, and I shall see you all soon.