The fly

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She had a new assignment. The Master needed her to save the president… again.

Nadia Clavell works for the S.P.P.A. (Secret President Protection Agency) and she obeyed all orders from The Master. She had a stern honest face and was very plain; she thought that would have been the reason why she was chosen two months ago to join the new agency, an agency kept a big secret. She wasn't even sure if the president knew about it.

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She walked into his office. The lights were dimmed like always, she had never seen his face. He was only a voice coming from a black shadow. Though he had a very peculiar voice, he always spoke the letter 's' continually, like a snake.

'There isss a man trying to assssassssinate Presssident Ssscotte. We only know that the assssasssin'sss name isss "The Fly",' he spoke. 'In exactly three weeksss there isss going to be a fansscy masssk ball, where the Presssident isss attending. Alssso there will be the wonderful deputy Presssident Jonesss and many other important people. I also have information that "The Fly" will be there, sssubsssequently wearing a fly mask.'

He continued on about with the information for the night including the way she has to kill him, which was by injecting a poisonous needle into him, when he would be alone on that night.

She was ready for the night; she was undercover, wearing a red dress and a flamingo mask, she for once did not looks plain. In the hall where everyone was dancing, she noticed The Master was there, in black, like always, wearing a plain black mask. Who is this man? She wondered. But her thought was quickly diverted to the killing she had to do, as she saw the fly mask across the room.

"The Fly" was chatting to many people, but after hours of waiting for him to be alone, she had her chance. "The Fly" had walked behind some pot plants; she thought maybe to have some alone time. She walked over to the plants, trying not to be noticed. Luckily, the only person who noticed was The Master, as he was following her to where she would kill.

She grabbed the syringe out of her bag and stabbed it into "The Fly's" back. He fell straight away.

She was curious who this masked man was, so she rolled him over on his back and looked at his still face.

Oh no. She gasped in shock. And behind her, she heard a voice so familiar.

'Great. Thank you ssso much Nadia Clavell. You just killed Presssident Ssscotte, and that meansss that I am now the presssident. Yesss, I am now, Pressident Joness.'

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Tabaco

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Is tobacco a drug? Nicotine is a drug, and nicotine was purposely manipulated to enhance the addictive nature of cigarettes. The Federal Drug Administration (FDA) tried for years to build a case proving the Tobacco industry was manipulating the levels of nicotine in various brands to "Keep Them Coming Back" but couldn't prove it until a Paralegal working for Brown an Williamson provided documentation supporting the allegations. With this new found proof and advent of more "Whistle Blowers" coming forward with new and more supporting evidence, the FDA now pursued the contention that cigarettes were in fact a delivery device for nicotine, a controlled substance

Dr. David Kessler, commissioner of the Food and Drug Administration, was relentless in his pursuit of the Tobacco industry. His name appears in almost all of the research material of the time. This makes sense considering his position at the FDA however it seemed he had a personal quest to fulfill. He had been noted to say, "Smoking is a pediatric disease that is a disease of children." (cite) It had been recognized that secondary smoke would affect children of smokers, but the reference here was more to the effect smoking had on children or young adults. Advertising was directed at making it cool, sophisticated. This was a target demographic as far back as 110 (Cite Norma's stuff here) so noticeably so, that laws were introduced to limit sales of cigarettes to minors.

Although it is clear cigarette smoking is physiologically addicting, the effects of nicotine don't come into play for as much as two years. This begs the question "why" then do teens smoke until they're hooked? Peer pressure led by advertising role models or from scenes in movies where the hero stops and has a smoke or a temptress seductively blows smoke in the face of her prey. Although at first the act of smoking is not particularly pleasurable it does in time have psychological links to rest and relaxation.

It had been a Tobacco industry axiom that brand loyalty in cigarette smokers was almost unwavering. The key here is to get the new comers to smoke your brand, and they will likely stay with your brand until it killed them. In 16, ,000 took up smoking every day. One in three of them would die of smoking related illness probably in their middle age. Aside from that, the tobacco giants had to keep up with the attrition lost to the quitters, 1. million quitters every year and 40,000 would die. So, the cigarette companies had to keep after the young people to keep their business alive.

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Although the deadly effects of smoking were known for decades the Tobacco industry managed to escape law suits until 16, then the hammer began to drop. A relentless FDA commissioner, lobby groups, pending lawsuits and trials in several states and finally the whistle blowers giving away the secrets. The walls were closing in, The Tobacco industry new it couldn't survive, and remain whole if it was completely gutted and demonized so it agreed to negotiate a settlement before the witch hunt turned to a hysteric lynching. So they went to the negotiating table.

Reference Page

Eitzen, D. Stanley & Zinn, Maxine B. (1) Case Study The Tobacco Deal. In J. Post, A. Lawrence, & James Weber (Eds), Contemporary business issues with readings (pp. 40-40) New York McGraw-Hill Primis Custom Publishing

Hernandez, Debra G. (15) Restrictions on cigarette advertising. Editor &Publisher, 18, 1. Abstract retrieved on March , 00 from InfoTrac One File

Lacayo, Richard & Baumohl, Bernard (16) Put out the butt, junior. Time, 148 (11), 51. Abstract retrieved on March , 00 from EBSCOhost

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The Man Who Was Almost A Man

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This story is about a young man who wants to be recognized as a man and not treated as a boy any longer. This young black man, Dave, is convinced that owning and bing able to shoot a gun is the only way to command the respect he deserves from his elders. He becomes increasingly anxious to own one, and the author, Richard Wright, describes the chain of events that lead to this and the events that take place thereafter.

The plot is vleverly written, leading up to a crecendo, and is filled with suspence. The author introduces us the the guns in the catalog, describing them avidly. Dave works up the courage to ask his mother foor the money to buy a two dollar gun from 'Ol' Joe' at the Store and though she adamantly refuses at first, he sweet talks her into giving in. he is elated and runs to buy the gun, the condition being that he is to bring it right back to his mother, but he stays out late, returning only after he is sure everyone is asleep, and lies that he hid it outside when his mother tiptoes into his room later that night demanding that he give up the gun. He leaves early the next morning with the gun strapped to his thigh and is given a strip of land to plough by Mr. Hawkins, his employer. He happily goes off to work with a mule, Jenny and a plough, knowing that he will be alone in the woods and can fire the gun without anyone hearing him. He is frightened and unsure of himself, but he closes his eyes and finally pulls the trigger. To his amazement, shooting that gun hurts! His arm hurts and his fingers burn. He discovers that the blast is powerful and the sound deafening. The mule has taken off running, apparently frightened by the noise, but when he catches up to her, he discovers that she is bleeding, and it dawns on him that he somehow shot her. He is distraught and confused, and attempts to plug the hole in her side with mud and dirt to no avail. He helplessly watches her die, buries the gun, and then goes to report what happened. He lies that Jenny apparently went haywire, kicking and rearing and finally fell on the plough, and everyone is confused, wondering why and how on earth a mule would do that. His parents arrive on the scene, and when someone comments that it looked like a gunshot wound, his mother presses him to tell the truth, revealing that he had a gun. He breaks down and tearfully confesses, amid laughter from the crowd. His father arranges for payment of the dead mule over a period of time and he is sent home, angry and embarrassed. He cannot sleep that night and so gets up, unearths the buried gun and vows to shoot it. He knows he can do this. He fires round after round until the gun is empty, this time with his eyes open and his arm sure. He is elated at his success since he has proven to himself that he really is a man! He confidently walks home, reassured, when the sound of an approaching train sends thoughts flying through his mind. It will take him two years to repay the mule, he expects a severe beating from his father for his misdeeds, his mother told on him and got him into all this trouble, and most of all, he can still hear the scornful laughter in his ears. He makes up his mind and jumps on the train as it passes by. He knows that he will not be a man here, but he will find his manhood somewhere, on the other side.

The characters in this story help the plot along, so that the story flows. Dave's mother, for instance, helps by allowing him the thing his heart desires most, a gun. She seems to be a tough woman at first, but then she yields to her son and we see her weakness for him. She is a straight shooting, honest woman, as evidenced by her pressuring him to tell the truth when no one else actually knows exactly what happened. Dave's father is a tough, stern man. Dave obviously fears him. He is a disciplinarian, and we know this from Dave's recollection of previous beatings. He provides a balance for Dave, who cannot get away with much, because his father would not give in to him, as does his mother. He will make sure Dave pays for his mistake. 'Ol' Joe ' is the friendly shopkeeper at the store. He comes across as a sensible, mature individual but seems to understand what Dave is feeling and allows to him not only to borrow his catalog, but offers him an old gun for two dollars. He helps the story along in this way. Mr. Hawkins seems to be a reasonable employer who apparently gets along quite well with Dave. He of course, is the owner of the unfortunate mule Jenny, and is the reason Dave will be in debt for the following two years for a dead mule.

I think the theme of this story is that everyone wants to feel important, to be recognized, and that when that feeling is frustrated, one does whatever one deems necessary to correct this. I also think the author was emphasizing that after failure, it is important to try again, as Dave did with success. He faced the gun which he was now more afraid of than before, and conquered his fear. He satisfied his belief that he could shoot like a man. Another thought is that Dave realizes that what he desires most is to be a man and be recognized as one, and he feels that will not happen anytime soon at home. He therefore opts to take off into the unknown, somewhere far where he can, perhaps, become a man and earn respect, although it is not right for him to flee from his responsibility (paying Mr. Hawkins for the dead mule).

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I think the story definitely worked. It is an interesting story, and that keeps you glued to it, wanting to find out more. The author's clever use of suspense has us wondering what on earth this boy wants to do with this gun and we even wonder if he will harm himself, or someone else. However, the story teaches a lesson, and also serves as insight into the life of a young man seeking to make his mark in the world, to be heard, to be seen. It is well written and flows easily, making it easy to understand and the masterful use of imagery allows us to travel back in time to the place where these events are taking place.

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Get Lucky...I Don't Think So

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Webster's New World Dictionary defines luck as "the seemingly chance happening of events which affect one." Ahead, is a conversation between three adults. The scene takes place at a restaurant over dinner and drinks.

John You know, those little scratch off lottery tickets? I won $00 on one yesterday. It was the luckiest day of my life!

Kim Are you serious? I never win on those things! What else happened?

John On the way to a meeting to discuss the promotion I'm up for, I got pulled over for doing 5 in a 5. It turned out though, that the cop is the father of my nephew's buddy, so he let me off with a warning. So I get to my meeting, and they offer me the promotion on the spot!

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Judy Uh, Johnny, that's bullshit. I mean I'm happy to hear about the promotion and getting out of the ticket but we are adults now, you can stop talking about luck ok? Grow up.

Kim Wow, Judy calm down. What are you talking about?

Judy I'm just so sick of people talking about "luck" and "fate" with this dreamy look in their eyes, as if any of it exists at all.

John (In a sarcastic tone) Hey cranky, I think that both sides of your bed are wrong, so do me a favor and don't get up tomorrow (John laughs at his own joke, amused at his self-proclaimed wit).

Kim Judy, where did all this hostility come from? Why are you being so negative?

Judy Honestly, I don't believe in luck at all. Good things happen to people who work hard. That's the bottom line.

John I agree with you. Good things do happen to people who work hard. But'

Judy (Let's out an annoyed sigh) Yeah, there had to be a but.

John But, you are reading to deep into the concept. Luck most definitely exists. I just think that it is a much simpler notion than you are making it out to be. Don't get me wrong; my life isn't based on getting lucky everyday'although if I got lucky every night, I would NOT be complaining (again, the ladies were not impressed with John's wit).

Judy laughs, a demeaning laugh at John's thoughts on luck, as if saying, "You are ridiculous."

Kim Do you two mind if I make an honest observation? (She doesn't wait for an answer) I think that both of your upbringings strongly reflect how you look at life, let alone luck.

John scrunches his face together, signaling that he is deeply thinking and somewhat confused, while Judy rolls her eyes but continues to listen.

Kim John you have lived your whole life in middle class suburbia. You haven't suffered any real trauma in your life that I'm aware of. (John shakes his head "no") So I would think that naturally, you have a more optimistic outlook in general. Now Kim, you on the other hand have not had such an easy life. With your parents divorce, and the death of your sister all happening before your sixteenth birthday, clearly you've experienced more than most of us experience at that age. I'm not saying that either of your opinions are wrong, but I just want the both of you to see where the other is coming from and to try to understand their side.

John I never really thought about it that way before.

Judy You just made a really good point. I am so'

Waitress Hey, how are we doing tonight? Can I get you some drinks- (The waitress looks at the floor and a grin spreads across her face, she bends down and picks something up) "Find a penny, pick it up, all day long you'll have good luck!" Oh cool, now I'll have good luck for the rest of the day!"

John(In a very serious tone) Guess again sweetheart, that's your tip!

John, Judy and Kim all burst out in hysterical laughter, as the waitress looks at her penny, truly confused.

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I have poop on my butt

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ihave poop I believe that everyone has his or her own definition of depression. Let me first start of by giving you my definition of depression. Depression to me is my pretty much what happens in my every day life. I wake up in my small apartment. I bathe myself with products I bought from the dollar store, I get dressed with my small selection of clothing. and I eat the food that I have, not because I like it but because it's what I have to eat. I go to a job every day that is completely boring and allows me to use absolutely none of my creative abilities and I go to college and have absolutely no direction what so ever.

I have a friend who always says that she is depressed; although when I look at her life I can't see how she can be so miserable all the time. I mean she has a nice car, a decent job and always has enough money to buy expensive clothes. So I ask myself, what is it that makes her life filled with depression just like my own? So I compare our lives in hopes to determine, what is the true definition of depression? She has nice clothes, but I have a nice boyfriend. She spends time and money looking for a person to be with, when I make no effort at all and still wake up next to the same sexy guy everyday.

So what is depression? What does it mean to be depressed? Is being depressed not having someone to love? Is being depressed no having any money? Maybe I should be grateful that my definition of depression merely not having what I want. I think the true definition of depression is not being able to have the things that are necessary for basic survival. The poor people that are over in Ethiopia, lying in a small tent, infested with flies while dying from HIV and starvation. Are they ones that are truly depressed? Are they the ones that know the true definition of depression? I think so.

No matter what the situation is, being depressed can result of many things. Some which can be very stupid. For example someone could be depressed because he or she are not able to eat a chocolate sundae, or eat at McDonalds with the rest of their friend because of their weight issues. Someone could even be depressed because they want to be rich and live like a famous person.

There is so much more to the word depression than just being sad. It is a psychological state of emotional existence. It is an imbalanced of chemicals in ones mind

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Is Suicide Intervention Justified?

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Is suicide intervention justified?

With the abundance of suicide throughout the world, one has to wonder whether intervening in a suicide attempt is justified. There are two opposing principles on this topic, one being the principle of autonomy and the other being the principle of respect for life. There are also views that support each of these two principles such as paternalism and anti-paternalism.

In order to support the principle of autonomy, I must do three things. First, I will present the moral justifications for intervening in a suicide according to the principle of respect for life. Second, I will present the view of paternalism which supports the principle of respect for life, and also refute it with the view of anti-paternalism, supporting the principle of autonomy. Finally, I will present the moral justifications for not intervening in a suicide by presenting the principle of autonomy.

Moral justifications for intervening in a suicide The principle of respect for life.

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The major moral justifications for saving human lives attempting suicide come from the principle of respect for life. This principle states that humans should never do things to harm other humans. We should always respect human life. If a person is in a position to help prevent a suicide, they are obligated to do so. This principle gives two main reasons for siding with the respect for life when a person is suicidal. (1) In most cases, people don't really want to die, and () A person should discover the suicide's motives before letting him or her continue. Many people in fact have only a short-term desire to die and are often not thinking clearly while attempting suicide. It is also important to distinguish that if a person is mentally ill, it is morally justifiable to intervene in their suicide attempt. Another good example looked at by the respect for life principle is a retributive suicide, or violent suicide. The principle states that humans in general are more likely to act on the respect for human life than act on the respect of human autonomy. John Stuart Mill placed himself in the middle of this argument. His view held that it is okay to intervene in a suicide in order to be sure a person is acting intentionally and rationally with knowledge of their consequences. But once informed, we should let the person be free to do what he or she wishes.# It can be argued that using the respect for life principle generates a sense of community and caring, while using the autonomy principle generates a sense of indifference.

Paternalism versus anti-paternalism

One could justify intervening in a suicide attempt using paternalism. In order to explain paternalism, I must first define it. Paternalism is interference with someone's freedom for that person's own good. People use paternalism to justify intervening when the person attempting suicide is rational and competent. Paternalism is used to protect the person from three things, (1) extremely and unreasonably risky actions, () actions that are contrary to the person's best known interests, and () actions that are potentially dangerous and irreversible.# Therefore, when arguing for the respect for life, one can cite that there are many things done in our society for a person's own good. Stopping a suicide would be something done to protect people for their own good, much like the examples of medicine and seat belts in society.

There are limits to paternalism however. Using paternalism seems to be both coercive and forceful. John Stuart Mill argues that each person is the best judge of his or her own best interest. He also argues that since paternalism is coercive, the only good that comes from it is temporary.# The anti-paternalistic view held here is saying that when using paternalism one is taking away all the rights which make up a person's autonomy. Coercing or forcing a person to conform is against many moral philosophies and should therefore not be used when philosophically determining the validity of intervening in suicide attempts.

Moral Justifications for not intervening in a suicide The principle of autonomy

Forcing views on another person is wrong, and therefore one should agree with the principle of autonomy. The principle of autonomy states simply that people have the freedom to choose, and therefore, can decide for themselves whether or not they want to end their lives. There must be a very important distinction made in order to hold this view however. The only way it is acceptable to let a person decide for themselves is if they are making an autonomous and rational decision to end their lives. In the case of mentally ill people, or retributive suicides, there are in fact moral justifications for intervening. To kill oneself in a vengeful way would be to undermine one's own dignity, therefore making suicide unacceptable. But these are the only cases where it is morally justifiable to intervene in a suicide. If one is committing suicide because further life would compromise one's dignity, then it is morally justifiable to let them do so. In essence, there must be good, rational, and logical reasons to justify the suicide of a person. In these cases it is okay, but one must also take into account the many ways in which a person's suicide is not justified. These cases were presented above, but there is still greater evidence to show that it is morally better to let people have the freedom to choose whether or not they want to live.

With the many differing opinions on the matter it is easy to see where one could get confused. One has to see however, that interfering in the autonomy of a human being is morally unacceptable. Unless a suicide is an act of revenge, hate, violence, or mental incapacity, there is no need to intervene. Truly rational people have the absolute right to make their own decisions, no matter what.

Please note that this sample paper on Is Suicide Intervention Justified? is for your review only. In order to eliminate any of the plagiarism issues, it is highly recommended that you do not use it for you own writing purposes. In case you experience difficulties with writing a well structured and accurately composed paper on Is Suicide Intervention Justified?, we are here to assist you. Your cheap custom college paper on Is Suicide Intervention Justified? will be written from scratch, so you do not have to worry about its originality.

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Speak

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The Life of a Killer

Violet sat in a corner of the caf' with her nose in a book. She was the only one in the coffeehouse sitting alone. The scent of coffee filled her nose, and the pink and gold wallpaper was a wonderful vision for her eyes. However, she preferred to read her book. At least, that's how it looked to people at a distance. The pages of the book were splashed with tears and a bottle of aspirins lay in her hand. Popping three of the aspirins in her mouth, she downed her coffee and made her way to the restrooms, leaving her book on the table.

Sandra paced her room in long strides. Her dark purple carpet was even darker where her tears had fallen. Slowly, she opened her drawer and took out a pill bottle. She took a few, slow sips of her water and rushed to the kitchen as bitterness filled her mouth. She quickly poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a few sips to hide the bitterness of the water. She made her way to the living room and turned on the television, which she knew would be a good distraction for her.

Mary, Violet and Sandra's mother arrived home late from work as usual. She found her daughter Sandra lying peacefully on the light blue sofa sleeping, and then went to look for Sandra's twin Violet. Violet, however was no where to be seen. Mary made her way back to the living room and covered up sleeping Sandra, brown hair sprawled over her head like an angel, with a fur blanket and turned off the television. She figured that Violet had just went to a friend's house and was unable to call so Mary went into her completely pale pink room for a well-deserved rest.

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The next day, Mary awoke with a start as the phone rang. Bleary-eyed and still half-asleep, Mary picked up the loud phone and was just able to croak a 'hello'.

The phone call was from her 'ex', Violet and Sandra's father. He barely called, as he had left the family one night, and their mother taught Sandra and Violet that he was a person who completely lacked morals. Mary managed to have a conversation with him, and he was not even interested in the welfare of his two daughters. The reason that Mary's 'ex' Sam had called at all was that he wanted to know if she had cashed the check that he gave the family for Christmas. Mary groaned and told him that if he wanted his money back, she would rip the check up faster than you could say 'idiot'. Sam paused for a minute, his slow brain registering what she had just said, and replied with a small 'great, thanks' before hanging up.

Mary decided to not go back to sleep, so she went to the kitchen to make herself breakfast before she went to work on a Saturday, as she always did. Smelling the wonderful scent of pancakes helped Mary get her mind off all her problems. She divided the pancakes into two portions and poured two glasses of milk to go with the pancakes. Bringing the pancakes into the living room for her and her daughter, Mary sang for Sandra to wake up. When the singing did not wake the sleeping nineteen-year old, Mary decided to open the blinds so that the light morning sunlight might wake up the child. But still she didn't wake.

Sandra usually wasn't such a deep sleeper, and now Mary started to worry. She repeatedly tapped Sandra on the shoulder, but she still refused to wake up. She told Sandra right in her ear that she had to wake up, but the girl still refused even move. The beautiful blue eyes stayed shut. Mary took out a hand mirror from the side drawer and held it up to her daughter's nose. No fog formed on the mirror! Mary started weeping uncontrollably, and she broke down on the ground, crying. With a shaky hand, she dialed the hospital and cried to the operator to send an ambulance over right away. Five minutes later, the paramedics arrived and they rushed Sandra to the hospital. She was dead on arrival, as the doctors had put it.

Mary used the hospital phone and tried desperately to reach her daughter Violet. She called all of Violet's friends, but all of then said that they had not seen Violet for a while. Mary decided that everything that was happening was too much for her. She ran out of the hospital and just kept on running, not sure of where she was going to go.

About three minutes later, Mary found that her legs were taking her where she and her daughters had gone so many times when she wasn't working, the small coffee house. She decided that if she just walked, she might be able to calm down and try and find Violet. Mary stumbled over a bush and came into eye contact with a familiar looking pair of red high-tops. She picked up the shoe and realized that there was a leg attached to it. Attached to the leg was a torso, and attached to the torso was a neck and on the neck was a… a head that looked EXACTLY like Violet's. Mary's breathing started to get deeper and deeper and tears started to well up in her eyes. People passing by saw a forty-five year old woman lying in a bush, crying, and someone was bright enough to call the paramedics.

The paramedics arrived, and once again Mary found herself in an ambulance, this time with her other daughter. The doctors once again pronounced the nineteen-year old girl dead on arrival, and Mary went home to her empty house. That night when Mary lay in her pink bed, thinking, crying, she resolved to herself that she would find out who killed her beloved daughter.

The next day Mary received a call from Sam. He had heard the news through a friend who worked at the hospital, and he cried over the phone and told Mary that he would arrange the funerals. Later in the day Mary got a call from the hospital telling her that they had done some tests and they had found how the twins had died. Apparently Violet died from a prescription drug overdose, and Sandra had been poisoned. Mary put the phone back into the holder and started to tremble before the reality hit her that either her daughters had committed suicide, or someone had wanted to kill her daughters, and turned out to be successful in doing so. She preferred to believe the latter one. She decided to be open minded, but strongly believed someone had KILLED her daughters.

She dialed the only person who really hated her two daughters, a classmate named Kathy Grimalof. Kathy had hated Violet and Sandra ever since they were little. Violet and Sandra had always been more popular that Kathy could ever dreamed of, and she hated them for that. Kathy was the type of girl who you did not want to get to know, the kind of girl who always had a mean look on her face, the kind of girl that would kill to get what she wanted. She hated Sandra and Violet in a way that could only be described as pure evil. The former mother or two teenage girls had known that girls would do ANYTHING for popularity these days.

Mary called the operator and asked for a connection to Kathy. Kathy herself picked up the phone, and before the girl was able to sputter out a 'hello'. Mary started to yell and scream and threaten the nineteen-year-old with death threats. Kathy started to cry over the phone and claimed that she didn't do any thing. Mary hung up and felt complete satisfaction. She had found her daughters' killer, and now she was ready to go to the police.

A thought then struck her SHE HAD NO EVIDENCE! The police would never take her seriously. She knew what she had to do. Mary threw on her coat and made her way to the caf' where she and her daughters had loved to go, and where she knew was the place where Violet had been last. Mary stepped into the coffeehouse and was instantly washed over with the scent of coffee. She had loved the atmosphere of the caf', relaxed, yet the d'cor had a fancier appeal to it, and the music was soft and classy. Stepping inside the building brought back too many memories of Violet and Sandra, and Mary could feel her eyes stinging, trying to keep back the tears. Although she was extremely overwhelmed, the middle-aged woman managed to keep her tears back for her daughters, and she stepped up to the counter and asked for a cup of cappuccino.

Casually, she leaned against the counter and asked one of the regular workers, Emma, if she had seen Violet in the past few days. Emma replied that she had seen Violet, just some days back, and she had been rubbing her head and crying over a book. Mary took this information and processed it in her brain over her cappuccino. Cappuccino always made Mary feel better because she knew that it was like taking a minute out of your life just to enjoy some warm sweet-bitter liquid in her mouth. Knowing that she could not stall the analyzing process any longer, Mary finished the last sip of coffee and she realized that it tasted heavier on her tongue, just as her heart had after snapping back into reality and realizing that her two precious daughters were dead.

Twisting a strand of her bleached blond hair between her fingers, Mary came to a conclusion of exactly what had happened. Violet had gotten into a fight with Kathy and Kathy had decided to kill her. Or maybe it wasn't Kathy… Mary realized that her thoughts were going against what she knew was true, and determined to have Kathy put on trial. Now the only thing that Mary had to do was find Sandra's killer.

Calling people had never been one of Mary's favorite jobs, but she needed to do it for her daughter. She called everyone at school and she had asked if Sandra had been in a fight with anyone lately. The only person that people thought that Sandra had been in a fight was with her sister Violet. Mary dismissed the fight as mere sibling rivalry. Mary did not know what to do. She had called everyone and she still had no clues pointing to Kathy. Unless Violet had… NO! Of course Violet had nothing to do with the death of Sandra. The fight was one that sisters had, not something that would actually upset either of the girls. Mary checked her diamond watch with the long hand on the and the short had a little past the 1. Deciding to turn in, Mary changed into her nightgown, picked up her favorite novel, A Bend in the Road, and tried to read, but she cried herself to sleep instead.

The next day there was a knock at the door at about nine o clock in the morning. Stumbling out of bed and moving slowly, Mary walked to the door and opened it slowly. She was surprised to find a red-eyed Sam at her door. Shaking the cobwebs from her brain, Mary quietly asked Sam what was wrong. He explained that he knew who the killer was.

Mary sat silently, shaking, and after what seemed like eternity, asked who. Sam looked up at her; his brown eyes filled with tears, and said something so quietly that not even a dog could hear. But Mary could. Her heart shattered into a million pieces when Sam whispered the name "Sandra".

Going into rage, Mary started yelling about how there was absolutely no way that Sandra would kill herself. When Sam told her that he had hired a private detective that put all of the clues together, Mary got even more furious. Why should he have hired a private detective that didn't even know the sisters! Why should he have hired a detective that didn't even know where they lived! When Sam explained that the detective had searched the girl's rooms, Mary got even more furious. How dare he encourage someone to break into her house! How dare he encourage someone to look through their daughters' things! All the while Sam was trying to explain the situation to Mary. When he said, " There was a note!" Mary instantly fell silent.

Sam slowly pulled out a piece of lined paper from his pocket. "This was in Sandra's room in her desk" Mary read the note Dear mother, I always knew that Violet was your favorite daughter. Please don't be mad. Please don't be mad with yourself either. You gave me everything that you could; I just needed a little more motherly love to feel more special to you. I really will miss you, but I am not so sure how much you will miss me. Love, Sandra P.S. I know that your work is more important to you…

Mary clutched the note very tightly in her hand. She looked up at Sam with wide eyes filled brimming with tears. His brown eyes sparkled as a tear trickled down his pink cheek. " They say Sandra had been suffering from severe depression. They said that it is possible that either you did not see the signs because you were over-working yourself, or that you just did not want to believe it…. " " But what about Violet??" Mary asked in a shaky voice " Sandra killed her. She was jealous of Violet. On the day of her death, the detective tells me that Violet was in a caf' crying over a blinding headache. Sandra had switched Violet's normal aspirins with a different, stronger pill. There was evidence of that in the pill bottle that was in the garbage at the caf'. Violet took three of what she thought was her normal pills, and the pills are so strong that they can cause a drug overdose to someone of her stature. While she was walking home she had dropped dead, and she either fell into the bushes or someone dragged her body there later. Sandra couldn't believe what she had done, so she had gone home, cried and then poisoned herself. She probably died in the early hours of the morning as the poison spread through her body.

Mary had been crying throughout the whole explanation. She could not believe what she was hearing. She broke down on the floor and Sam stood by her, trying to comfort her. She pushed him away and ran up to her room. She slowly pulled out a revolver from one of her light pink dressers…. the one that she had for protection. A shaky hand lifted the gun to her head and a shot rang out through the town as red blood stained the beautiful pink walls. Mary could have saved her daughters…. She could have saved them…. They could be living…. A mother only sees what she wants to see…. She might as well have killed them herself…. It was all too much for a mother to take…. So she took her own life…. The life of a killer….

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