To Kill a Mockingbird Post #2

-Journal Entry #2-

Chapters 4-9

Miss Maudie

        I have been staring at this journal for over an hour now. Looking at these blank pages wondering how to describe today. It is not that nothing happened, that I don't know what to talk about, in fact, it is quite the opposite. I am trying to find words to describe everything that happened and it is quite frustrating. It is important when things happen to put them all in perspective, not to get caught up in the little, inconspicuous challenges of life. I can only assume that bad things happen so better things can unfold. Saying that today was a bad day would be an enormous understatement. But I'm not quite sure if it was bad, true, some things did not go my way and there are some definite changes for me in the future. But, they could have been a whole lot worse.

     I was sleeping when it happened, the fire was lit in the fire place, warming the air on this chilly night. The snow was drifting down in fluffy puffs outside. This was the first time in ages that it snowed in Maycomb, a horror seeing as though it could most possibly kill a great deal of my azaleas. Little did I know that my azaleas were not the thing most in peril. It was about one in the morning when it happened. I was awoken to the awful smell of smoke charring my nostrils. I was confused for a second, drowsiness taking over my senses but the smell was growing stronger, burning my lungs every breath I took. Fire. I looked around begging for something to contradict my assumption, but I could seem bright hot flames. The thought started to sink in. My house was on fire. In a second I was in action. Don't panic, I cautioned myself. I felt everything in slow motion, everything inaudible but my pounding heart. Looking from the window I saw a clear path from my bedroom out of the front door. I threw on slippers, an over coat, and ran. The icy cold air stung at my warm skin and my hair was strewn in a mess across my head as I ran to Ms. Stephanie's. 

        By the time Atticus, Jem, and Scout made it out of their house, still groggy, the firemen were on the way. They couldn't go very fast through the snow though. Men were running, some still in pajamas, it seemed like the whole town had showed up. Splashes of orange and red seemed to engulf one side of the house. People were running through pulling out furniture now. Everyone was moving so quickly and all I could do was shake where I stood. It was freezing, yet I did not feel the cold, my eyes were entranced on the bright flames wrapping around the walls. It was beautiful, in its own horrific way. The colors and flames danced around, slowly enveloping more and more of what used to be a house. I watched as it slowly crumbled to the ground, people were out of the house now that it was falling. I stood in horror as the flames grew bigger and bigger filling the cold, stiff air. Icy water shot through the hoses launching at the fire. It was beginning to lick at the side of Atticus's house and I watched Scout's face turn to terror. Atticus seemed to be under control, he was moving swiftly, talking to people, and the men seemed to be working harder then ever. I begged the fire to stop, and I realized the whole neighborhood could go up in flames, just because of me. But soon my fears were resolved, the fire was slowly eliminated and relief flowed through me. 

         As I said it could have been a lot worse. My house is gone, that is for sure, but thanks to the help of the town I still have quite a bit of my belongings, and nobody else in the neighborhood lost their home. I am so grateful for that. I know there is a new life ahead of me now. There is no point in being cantankerous. It is not going to be easy, but you never now, something good could come out of this. I never did like that old house anyway, and now I can build a new, more contemporary one, and a bigger garden perhaps. Life is going to change of course, but with the help of these great folks of Maycomb, I will make it through. Today is a new day, what has happened has happened. Let's see what life has in store for tomorrow.

To Kill a Mockingbird Book Response #1

     -Journal Entry-  

Jem Finch

                            

        Today was the first day of the school year, always a dreary time, our minds still buzzing with the warm summer adventures and long nights. Endless days of exploring and soaking up the baking hot sun. Now we were returning to school, in some ways this was good, seeing all our old friends and beginning another year of learning, but the long summer days still lured us back outside from our dull classrooms. This was not a typical back-to-school day. I am now in 5th grade, older than most everyone in the school, but not only that. Today was Scout's first day at school. Because Atticus is always working and busy, the job of taking Scout to school was then thrust on me. At first I was reluctant, I am not her babysitter, but enough coins had me persuaded. I tried to think back to my first day at school, surely I must have been better than how she was, but then again, she is Scout. I walk out at noontime to see Walter Cunningham tackled to the ground, Scout hitting him and pushing his face in the dirt. What a great way to start your first day. The poor kid looked like he hadn't had a decent meal in ages. Walter was smaller, no matter what started it, she should have known better. I invited him to our place for lunch. Again, Scout with her manner problems was sent to eat in the kitchen after a rude remark. She needs to learn that even though she doesn't mean what she says in a mean way, it comes out all wrong and people get offended. She needs to watch her mouth. 

          It was a pretty bad day for Scout, I heard her complaining to Atticus about never going to school again. She should know better then to ask for that but she just sees the world from the Scout way. Everything makes sense in her head and how things should be but in reality, they are much more complex. I guess it's because she's six, but it's very frustrating. Well, enough about Scout now, the more I think about her, the more she reminds me of my mother, just the little features like the way she looks and the way she smiles. Of course, Scout will never know this, she was too young to ever know our mother. She was only two years old when Mother died. I don't think about Mother too much. I like to remember how pretty she was and the good things but fantasies are always snapped when you have to come back to reality. Sulking and living in the past is not the way to live. It's easier for Scout, because she never met her she doesn't have to miss her ,but I do. I miss her a lot. Sometimes I let my mind wander and I wonder if she's looking down on us and watches us grow up. I miss you Mother.