[ Love + Laces ]

Old Works

...My mind just undressed/
My common sense senses itself being laid to rest/
This naked intellect, wandered by imagination/
A dark sensationJust made its entrance..
--------------------------------------------
» J a d e D.

So jaded is how she left me.
Those words, locked up in my head,
serving their sentence behind the bars I created.
It felt like I died before I lived,
got in a casket before a bed,
got hurt before I was loved...
My soul, empty. My heart constricted.
I want to forget those incorrect words,
but my mind won't let me.
When she let those words roll off her lips,
I let my tears roll down my cheeks.
There was a silence between us - my eyes dilated.
I felt like the sky had fallen on top of me.
Gravity crushed my body too early.
My breath could not escape my lips.
Jaded, was how I was left.
-----------------------------------------------------

Wandering Soul

I'm just a wandering soul
drowning in my own blue stream
looking for a place
rather than the one in my dreams...

I'm just a wandering soul
silence makes me smile
darkness covers my shadow
as I walk the long mile.

I'm just a wandering soul
with no place to go
and an ache in my chest
'cause my heart's on the floor.

Old Works

Just thinkin'
- 'Bout my own mind, and how it's like a film strip
Just flippen through each still picture, then stoppin at one in paticular,
Perpindicular, are the lines of an X, similar, to X on ma chest

Just thinkin'
- 'Bout the people that I know, and how they have nothing to show,
But somethin to hide, and why, I deal with them? I don't know,
Just the flow of the whole world makes me wonder, why do I
do the things I do, just to be cool and show that I am no fool?

Just thinkin'
- Bout the things that I see, and how the homeless on the street,
Have nothin' to eat, the crackheads walkin clumsily, and the children
gettin abused, used, and bein confused, bout what to do, choices to make
will either build or break you down underground, to your grave...

Just thinkin'
- Bout beauty, and how it has many definitions, people reminiscin, sayin size zeros
are the best, but you know, beauty doesn't show, unless you know, who you are, look in the mirror, know that you a star

Just thinkin'
- Bout love and what it really means, and how I'm lookin' to love someone and for someone
to love me, for who I am and who I is, sticks and stones break your bones...and words will always
stick with you, in your mind, and once they're in, you'll completely forget about time..

Just thinkin'
- Bout the black folk these days, and how the ways of our kind, has turned back time, a whole lot, just the thought of the word "nigga" kills me inside, because I'm tryna rise to the top and these flip flop blacks tryna act, tough, droppin outta school, breaken all the rules...then it's complaints about racism and critism..but it doesn't makes sense because your intuitions of your decisions are your own fault or success..

Just thinkin'
- Bout the gurls these days, tryna dress older than their age, without a page in their mind of what to do and how to do it...it's unprotected sex and parents gettin' vex over baby mamas bein 13, 14, and even 15...Gurls havin abortions, havin gurl fights, Looken for a boy to say "Damn" in da middle of the night...We gettin abducted, killed, raped, and murdered, and all you can say is "It'll never happen to me." Gurl please.

Just thinken
- Bout how to end this poem, it's been a long one, been a long day, and by the way...i enjoyed ya precense cuz time is of the essence...but promise me one thing...Visit my site again, and tell ya friends, cuz signen the Guest book aint nothin but a G thang

Old Works

Beautiful Dancer

Lyrics move her lyrically

Leaping lovely across the stage with ease

Turns and twirls,

Enchanting the eyes of her world.

She moves her body,

Sinuously,

Like poems of cursive writing,

A dream of beauty.

She spread her soul in the sky

Passionate flying

Her eyes as the stars

Dancing,

Like there's no life tommorow.

A beautiful dancer,

A song in disguise,

A woman with soul,

A real fantasy.

---------------------------------------------

There once was a girl from Peru

who was walking around with the flu

She coughed and she sneezed

all her boogers on me

and my friend said "Jean, why so blue?"
----------------------------------------------

My Smile

I carry my smile wherever I go

Inside my pocket, where it won't show

I wear it when I see my friends

Straighten it out when I see my foes

Flip it upside down when I'm drowning

in my tears, my smile is no more.

When I see that special someone, I stretch the ends, 4 by 7

So that he'll notice me and answer me like a question

I wear it in class when I'm doing my work

But hide it if the teacher starts to lurk

My smile and I, we are close for sure

We share good food, jokes, and words

I take good care of my smile and it takes care of me

Give it whatever it needs

I don't want to end up

with chapped lips and bad teeth

It helps me laugh and feel happy

even in pictures, I wear it and say CHEESE!

My smile's like my best friend

Funny and lovely,

A star that lights up in the sky above me =]

Old Works

iM A FiEND..

iT`s DELiCi0US,
iT'`s ADDiCTiVE T0 SAY THA LEAST
iT C0VERS MY DREAMS,
SATiSFiES ME..
CANDY KiSSES KiSSiN MY T0NGUE,
MELTiN iN MY M0UTH,
CARAMEL-FiLLED CENTRE,
i WAS W0N.
DARK, BR0WN, && WHiTE,
SWEET && BiTTER FLAV0URS,
i SAV0UR EVERY M0MENT
ALWAYS.
CHEWiN iS A ¢¾HEART BREAKER,
JELLY IS A MYSTERY
HiDiN LiKE SECRETS,
BUT i LiKE iT BETTER F0R THA EYES N0T T0 SEE iT..
iT`s A FETiSH i RELiSH F0R,
TH0SE C0NFECTiONS..
TRUFFLES AND PEANUTS,
STRAWBERRiES DiPPED in HEAVEN
PARADiSE,
i L0NG F0R,
AND iM N0T PREPARED TO WAiT,
iM CH0C0LATE'S BiGGEST L0VER,
i`LL DiSC0VER, UNC0VER ALL..
iT`s LAYERS AND TASTES.

A Rainy Night

Click Pic for My Magnum Opus

MARS

Mars is the best. Shit, it’s cooler than Earth.

I’ve always wanted to go to Mars – live on it, breathe on it. It’s been a dream of mine since I was a young dreamer. I used to just sit. I would sit and dream about it – while holding a novel in my hands. My eyes would just focus on the dirty school ceiling without a tear or a blink. Wonder was my playmate. Kids would interrupt me with their snot-ridden fingers in my face, but it was ok. I knew where I left off. Besides, it’s on my “2 million and a half things to do before I turn 30 or maybe 40 or even before I die” list.
I don’t know why I’ve always wanted to go. Maybe it was the mystery atmosphere surrounding it, or maybe I was just…weird. Maybe it was the TV or the radio. Maybe it was the way I would look up in the sky at night and search for it. It could’ve been the alien dude that was banging on my head with his brainless soaring saucer. I don’t know. I wish I did though.

Mars is just…cool.

Mars chronicles to be continued…

Society’s loveable words of wisdom… (Journal)

ter•ror•ist (tĕr'ər-ĭst)
n.
A Muslim man who hates America with an ardor ablaze. He’s willing to trade its death and destruction for his life; a martyr. He has scornful eyes and a haunting grin – a devil in disguise. His name angers the fearless. His shabby beard attracts the fearful. No one knows when he’ll strike. People run away when he enters public places. He’s always clasping a black bag. “He’s got a bomb!” They bellow in their minds.Insurgents wander in the masses namelessly. They await his signal. They await their calling. They await their fate.
adj.
Of or relating to Muslims


gang•ster (găng'stər)

n.
A young black male who roams the streets at night. He wears baggy blue jeans with a t-shirt the size of the world. His fitted cap masks his lonely eyes. His favorite color is black. His deadbeat dad disappears like time. His mother is always yelling. He doesn’t go to school – it’s for suckers. He doesn’t go home – it’s for nobody. Only his boys understand him. The rest of the world – fuck the rest of the world.
A member of a gang; anybody but a white man or a female.


bitch (bĭch)
n.

A person who is afraid to do something.Don’t be a bitch about it – just smoke the damn blunt
“Offensive”
A woman; bodacious, smart, intellectual, blonde, Asian, skinny…Any kind of woman.
A girl; 5 years old, 8 years old, 5th graderApplies to any kind of girl
A female; woman, girl, lady, daughter, mother


hood1 (hʊd)
n.

That place where black people live

hood2 (hʊd)
n.

That thing on the back of your sweater.


nig·ger (nĭg'ər) (or nigga)
n. “Offensive”

1.
a. A black person, mostly referring to a black male
What up, my nigga?!
b. Anybody of any race from any place in the world
“Anybody can be a nigga – white people, black people, Asian people.
We all niggas in a good way” – (Ignorant motherfucker)
c. The opposite of its original meaning


rock·er (rŏk'ər)
n.

1. A white person who listens to rock music. They wear rocker chains with black nail polish. Their faces are splashed with heavy black make-up. Their hair looks like sharp metal. Dark colors make them happy.


white (hwīt, wīt)
n.

1. A colorless square
2. A person with skin resembling a peach crayon who pronounces every single letter in any and every word. Superiority is them, so they fear change. They fear “other” people rising like gas prices. They do activities that no one else would do (ex. Kayaking, jumping off of a cliff, etc.). When there are crazy killers talked about on the tell lie vision, it’s usually them. They’re favored, more loved, and the norm of the world
3. A black intellect that doesn’t fit the stereotype of a black person.

love (lŭv)
n.

1. Hugging, kissing, touching, hurting, slapping, smacking, throwing, killing…
2. Buying a diamond for your wife; buying your kids Nintendo DSs
3. A nice feeling

dirt·y (dûr'tē)
adj., -i·er, -i·est.

Wearing the same skinny jeans on two consecutive days

A, B, C... (Journal)

An amorphous alien appeared at an amazing affair.

Brimful beer bottles burke billions.

Creep, crawl, crunch, cringe, cripple, cease…

Disasters distort dignity deep down dripping drains.

Eerily exasperating eclectic electric eccentric emotions exploring Earth

Fall flames flickered for flowers flowing freely

Grisly gangs grabbed grand guns, gracefully gunning guiltless girls.

Hardy Harry hammered holes, hitting home hallways.

Imagine imagination inertia in ice igloos; incognito idea in intellect

Jagged jewelry jaws just jabber jaded jocks

Keen killers know keys, keeping kip kits

Ladies lost love letters like ludicrous liars lose light

Melodious music makes me mitigate my mindless mind

New nostalgia never nears naked night noise

Obscene or orthodox; ordinary or odd

Pierced promises pollute psychic painted pictures

Quaint quasars question quiet queens

Raging rebels revolutionize ridiculously ravaged radio

Shameless souls stray shanty streets so shady

Trail the tick tocks time throws thematically throughout the term

Unwind under unusually umber umbrellas

Virtuous vessels vacate venomous vipers voraciously vibrating

Windy weather whistles wars without words, wars with wrath

Xenophobic Xanthippe x-rays xylophones

Your yucky Youtube yearnings yesterday yoke you yourself yearly

Zero zealous zookeepers zest zigzag zebras

[B]lack Hole

Plunge into an abyss

No escape

Stretched by oblivion
I feel my body leaving me
Time slowing down swiftly

Tick…
Tock…

The torturous twinge tears me in two

Every inch inches away,
every chip chips away

Life’s lives on outside of me

(This is one of those "don't ask me what it means" poems)

Narrative to Script

A Living Death
Based on the novel
"Jane Eyre" by Charlotte Bronte

By: Laydee_J

Dramatis Personae

• Jane Eyre – She is the main character of the script. A young, plain-featured governess who has overcome the most ill-fated advertises by maintaining her morals and her shrewd state of mind. Her fiery character and intellect generate thought-provocation in the minds of others.
  
• Mr. Rochester – He is Jane’s master at a manor called Thornfield. As an affluent man hiding a sinister secret, Mr. Rochester gives the impression of an impetuous tomfool who has not a care in the world. But when he is with Jane, he is the complete opposite.
  
• Bertha Mason – Bertha was a beautiful and prosperous Creole woman. Now she’s an insane and violent fiend with no psyche to call her own. She’s a secret in a secret room guarded by her keeper – and her husband.
  
• Sophie – She is a French nurse at Thornfield for a little child who stays there as well.
  
• Grace Poole – Grace is Bertha Mason’s keeper. Her drunken antics and negligence choke the safety of the residents of Thornfield.

Act I Scene II

The wind whistles and the fall leaves flow with the rhythm in the eyes of the lustrous moon. Dusk has fallen on Thornfield gracefully. Jane Eyre restlessly awaits the return of her love, Mr. Rochester, who has left for the evening. Tomorrow, he will no longer be her love – he will be her husband. She waits in her chamber, a small modern style room with papered walls and a carpeted floor. She is feeling an array of emotions. It is almost like a fantasy to her. She was only the plain, soft spoken governess just a few months ago. That was all anyone thought of her to be. And now, she has found someone who loves her for her – Mr. Rochester; hard on the outside and soft on the inside. The bed is beside the slightly opened window opposite the creaky closet. The oak dresser is on the other side of the bed against the wall, where her white wedding dress lays. It’s facing the door. The blue chintz window curtains are blowing softly with the wind. The lamp near her door is breathing light into the room. Jane is sitting anxiously on her petit bed in her nightgown with Sophie, the French nurse. She has a small box in her hand. They are having a small talk about the wedding.

SLOW FADE IN FROM A LOW ANGLE:
There is a voice over of both Jane Eyre’s and Sophie’s voices. It is muffled. The camera slowly moves up until the entire room is visible. The camera zooms in on them sitting on the bed cross-legged. It stops when both their bodies and the bed fill the screen. Now, we can clearly hear their voices. The gust of wind and rustling leaves from outside can be heard.

JANE
(Strong voice)
(In French) The box that you are holding (points to it) – what is inside of it?

SOPHIE
(Medium Shot; Soft spoken, slow, French accent)
(Short Pause) Oh! La boîte! La boite! Eh…uh…here, opan eet! Opan eet!
(Hands the box to Jane with a smile)

JANE
(Close up of her opening the box)
(Surprised look on her face)
Oh-la-la, c’est tres beau!
(Looks at Sophie)
(Short Pause; In French) From the depths of my soul, (She puts her left hand on her chest) I thank you. A gift is what I have never received in my life nor did I ever expect it. Merci vraiment, Sophie.

(Gust of howling wind)

JANE
(Tries on the veil, looks into the mirror)
(Medium shot of her reflection in the mirror)(Strong voice with a hint of awkwardness)
(In French, Aside to the audience) I saw a veiled figure, so unlike my usual self that it seemed almost the image of a stranger.


SOPHIE
(Close up)
(Soft spoken, slow, French accent)Eh…uh…es-tu…uh…ready?...pour…la …eh…cérémonie de mariage? Meez…eh……uh…Rochestare?

JANE
(Close up)(Looks down shortly, then looks at Sophie)

SOPHIE
(Close up of her looking at Jane)

JANE
(Close up of Jane)
(In French) Jane Rochester…is a person whom as yet I know not. (Long Pause) Mrs. Rochester! She does not exist: she will not be born till to-morrow, some time after eight o'clock a.m.; and I will wait to be assured she comes into the world alive before I assign to her all this property. (Long Pause) How late it grows! I shall go to sleep as Jane Eyre once more. I wait for the new day feverishly (Smiles). Bonne nuit, Sophie.
(Lies down on one side of her bed with the veil on)

(Leaves rustling outside with a gust of wind)

SOPHIE
(Close up of Sophie)
(Gets up off of the bed, medium angle shot of her standing over Jane)
Bonne nuit, Jane Eyre (smiles)
(Close up of her kissing Jane’s cheek and tucking her in)
(Long shot of the room, Sophie exiting it)
(Door closed behind her)

JANE
(Close up)
(Jane’s eyes are closed, she is sleeping)

(Wind howling)
(Long shot of Jane’s room)
(Pause – muffled cackling laugh)

JANE
(Close up of her opening her eyes)
(Close up of her eyes looking left and then right)

(Wind howling)

(She goes back to sleep)
(Screen quickly turns black)

(Black screen - Cackling laugh, even louder than the first time; scratching sound)
(Song instrumental – Put you on the game by Lupe Fiasco)

JANE
(Close up of Jane Eyre’s eyes again)(Long shot)
(She gets up and slowly heads for her door; veil is still on her head)
(Aside to the audience, soft spoken) It was a curious laugh; distinct, formal, mirthless. I stopped: the sound ceased, only for an instant; it began again, louder: for at first, though distinct, it was very low. The laugh was as tragic, as preternatural a laugh as any I ever heard. It passed off in a clamorous peal that seemed to wake an echo in every lonely chamber.

(Medium Shot) Jane opens her chamber door and looks both ways. No one is there but darkness. She slowly walks down the long and matted gallery hallway to her left, following the odd laugh.

JANE
(Medium shot of her walking)
(Soft spoken, Aside to the audience) Very chill and vault- like air pervaded the gallery, suggesting cheerless ideas of space and solitude. The laugh was repeated in its low, syllabic tone, and terminated in an odd murmur. I stopped with the odd murmur. It was in front of a rather tall door. It was not my habit to be disregardful, but I was very curious. I opened the door with caution like a watchman.

(Song stops)

JANE
(Close up of her hands pushing the door open)
(Whisper)
Grace! Grace!

(Medium shot of Grace lying down with a bottle in her hand)



JANE
(Medium shot of her standing at the door)
(Whisper)Grace! Whatever are you doing lying down on the floor…with a bottle in your hand?

(Close up of a dark cage with hands on the bars; Cackling laugh)
(Close up of Bertha’ teeth, smiling)

JANE
(Close up of her entering the room; Close up of her face, shows fear)
(Strong voice)
Who is there? Who is there! Show yourself!

BERTHA
(Monstrous voice; Close up of her face)
Ya ‘appy to see meh, hm? YA ‘APPY TO SEE MEH!
(She punches the bars and yells ferociously)
(Her face is revealed; she has a lit candle to her face)

V.O (Bertha is yelling)

JANE
(Close up of her face, fear)
(Soliloquy) It was a woman - tall and large, with thick and dark hair hanging long down her back. I know not what dress she had on: it was white and straight; but whether gown, sheet, or shroud, I could not tell. I have never seen a face like it! It was a discoloured face—it was a savage face. I wish I could forget the roll of the red eyes and the fearful blackened inflation of the lineaments! The lips were swelled and dark; the brow furrowed: the black eyebrows widely rose over the bloodshot eyes. It reminded me of the foul German specter—the Vampyre.

JANE
(Medium shot of her face, Strong and loud voice)
Who are you? What are you? Why are –

(Interrupted by Bertha)

BERTHA
(Laughs; Deep voice)
Is dat…meh say is dat a vayle ‘pon ya ‘ead?

JANE
(High angle shot of Jane)
(Long Pause, Quivering voice)
Y-y-y-yes, yes it is. Who are you? Tell me…tell me who you are.

BERTHA
(Smiles)
(Deep voice)Move closah to me. Me nuh bite ya
(Laughs). Let me tayke a look closah. Come.

JANE
(Breathing heavily)
(Long pause)
(Superimposition of Jane and Bertha)
Aside to the audience - It was snatching and growling like some strange wild animal, a figure running backwards and forwards.
(Jane slowly moved closer to Bertha)

(Bertha suddenly snatched the veil from Jane’s head; Jane screams)
(Bertha is trying on the veil)
(Instrumental – violins playing)

JANE
(Close up of Bertha)
Aside to the audience (V.O) - She took my veil from its place; she held it up, gazed at it long, and then she threw it over her own head, and turned to the mirror. She removed my veil from its gaunt head, rent it in two parts, and flung both on the floor, trampling on them.

GRACE
(Medium shot of Grace; Slowly gets up, stumbling, intoxicated)
(Inconsistent voice)
He…’ELLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOO! IS ANYBAWDY OUT THEEEEEEEEREE?
(Looks at Jane)
I KNNOWWWW YOUUU! YOU’RE—
(Grace falls to the floor towards Bertha’s cage)

(Medium shot of Jane looking at Grace and then looking back at Bertha)

JANE
(Superimposition of Jane and Bertha)
Aside to the audience - Her fiery eyes glared upon me—she thrust up her candle close to my face, and extinguished it under my eyes. I was aware her lurid visage flamed over mine.
(Yelling)My veil! Oh how my day will be ruined. It’s all --

BERTHA
(Close up of Bertha, breathing heavily)
(Intentionally tries to burn Jane but misses)
(Jane steps back)
Dis vayle righ heah spose ta be mine…SPOSE TO BE MINE! I YAM ‘IS WIFE! ME! I YAM! I’M LOCKED UP IN DIS RANCID CAYGE LIKE A BEEST! I YAM NOT STAYIN’ IN ‘ERE NO MORE! HE SAY HE LOVE YAH, HM? HE SAY HE WAN MARRY YA, HM? WELL HE A LIE! HE A LIE! LOOK WHA HE DID TO ME!
(She starts yelling ferociously)

MR ROCHESTER
(Medium shot of him entering the room)
(Yelling)
V.O – BERTHA yelling
Grace! Grace what is – Jane? Jane, my love, what are you doing in this room? It is not safe! Leave now!

JANE
(Close up of her on her knees in the corner. She looks up with tears in her eyes)
(Close up of the veil on the floor)
(Yelling, sad/angry voice)
Who is she? Who is she!

(The yelling has ceased)

MR. ROCHESTER
(Normal speaking voice)
(Close up of his face)
I will tell you after we are married. Come, let us go now.

While Jane and Mr. Rochester are exchanging words, Bertha has grabbed Grace’s key and is about to let herself out of the cage she has been kept in for a long time.

(Song instrumental Pretender by the Foo Fighters)

JANE
(Yelling, crying)
(Medium shot of her getting up)
I want to know NOW! How can I become Jane Rochester with –

(Interrupted by Mr. Rochester)

MR. ROCHESTER
(Close up of Mr. Rochester)
(Breathes in heavily)(Speaks with anger)
THAT is my WIFE — Bertha Antoinette Mason. I now inform you that she is my wife, whom I married fifteen years ago. You shall see what sort of a being I was cheated into espousing, and judge whether or not I had a right to break the compact, and seek sympathy with something at least human. Bertha Mason is mad; and she came of a mad family; idiots and maniacs through three generations? Her mother, the Creole, was both a madwoman and a drunkard!—as I found out after I had wed the daughter: for they were silent on family secrets before. Bertha, like a dutiful child, copied her parent in both points. Jane, I –

(Bertha attacks Mr. Rochester)

BERTHA
(Close up of her yelling, attacks Mr. Rochester)
‘OW DARE YA SAY I’M MAD!


JANE
(Close up of her screaming, yelling)
STOP! STOP! Please!

V.O – Bertha and Mr. Rochester are wrestling.

(Bertha and Mr. Rochester are wrestling; she looks up at Jane, and jumps towards her)
(Close up of Jane yelling)

(Screen abruptly fades to black)

(Long shot of Jane’s room)
(Pause – muffled cackling laugh)

JANE
(Close up of her opening her eyes; waking up abruptly)
(Close up of her eyes looking left and then right)

(Wind howling)

(She feels her head, the veil is still there)
(She goes back to sleep)
(Screen quickly turns black)


Song – Pretender by the Foo Fighters

Songs & Stories

10 Dollar – M.I.A

TITLE: Lost & Found

BRIEF STORYLINE: An anonymous young girl living a life of poverty in the warfare-stricken country of Mexico flees with her younger sister when her mother and brother are shot dead. As they are running through a heavy wooded forest, they are chased by infidels carrying guns and machetes. They run far enough to lose them, but without proper nourishment, they become very weak. The younger girl’s sister dies. The unknown girl keeps going until she eventually sneaks herself into the U.S.A and starts a new life from death. She befriends 4 prostitutes who teach her the life of the streets – drugs, sex, and money. They teach her what a woman is. They even give her a new identity, a new home and a new name – 17 year old Lala from Los Angeles, California. She lives with them out on the streets and does what they do. She becomes a prostitute. Business is slow because she’s a beginner. But once she starts getting more customers than the whole block, she gets more money. More money for her means more clothes, more happiness, and more freedom. Lala gains a new attitude and swagger. She meets a man who becomes a regular customer, a banker named Mr. Ruse. He falls in love with her but she knows better than to put her feelings first thanks to her “girls”. She digs his pockets and drops him. She moves to a new block and onto another man, Mr. Redrum, a banker from Yorkshire. But when she digs his pockets, he digs her grave.

DESCRIPTIVE OPENING:

It was raining. She was lifeless. It was frigid and freezing. Her body was face down on the sidewalk sewer. Rivers of rain slowly slithered into it. Her midnight curls swallowed her long face. The wind howled a somber song. Blood trickled out of her like a leaky pipe. Thunder roared. Her skirt was lifted above her buttocks, exposing her sodden panties. She was topless. Cars drove by, splashing her almost naked body. Some honked, but never stopped. Mr. Redrum came back to her with a smile. He kicked her head, laughed, and walked into the night. The moon was full. The sky was pitch-black.

OPENING LINES OF DIALOGUE:

Brother: (Shouting from afar) we’re coming!
Mother: (Shouting from afar) get the fire and pot ready!
Younger sister: Can you get --
5 gunshots are fired
Young girl and younger sister scream
Young girl covers younger sister’s mouth
Younger sister: (whisper) what’s happening
Young girl: (whispers) Sssh! Quiet!