The story was called Bullet in the Brain By Tobias Wolff, its about how the main characters flaws led to his death.
And I had to write about how certain flaws of mine would cause the death written in the story.
I first put my summary of the story and then the short story for your entertainment purposes.
Please let me know what you think...
Electric Shock
The Summary Electric Shock was my rendition of Bullet in the Brain by Tobias Wolff. It was hard for me to come up with an idea of a way for me to die; but I thought of the time when I was waiting for the train and a man in a wheel chair warned me about the dangers of standing too close. I decided to take that moment in my life and exaggerate it while still keeping it believable. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to write at least three pages about such a short moment.
Death is a touchy subject and I almost didn’t write this story, but the night before it was due I managed to get started at midnight. By the time I was done writing I ended up with 6 pages of material. I hated having to cut out parts of my story for the revision because I was proud of the work I had done in such a short time.
During the revision process for this story I emailed it to many of my close …show more content…
friends and asked for their opinions. In doing this I learned that no two people are going to view my story the same; to some it was touching, or funny, or sad, or a true reflection of me but to others it was just uninteresting.
I think Professor Friedman assigned this to make us be able to think objectively and be able to write about death. Writing about your own death can be overwhelming but I was able to get past the feeling; when I came up with the funny ending to a very serious and emotional story.
Electric Shock
On a dreadfully hot Miami morning after having woken up late, he had to rush so he could catch the bus on time. He knew he couldn’t be late for Professor Friedman’s class so he hurried to the bathroom, got dressed and ran out the door. He managed to get to the bus stop right as the bus was pulling away, and with that he decided to run to the metro-rail station instead.
Walking into the station, checking the train schedule on his phone, he saw that the next train wouldn’t arrive for the next 15 minutes; however, he would make it to his English class on time. The escalators and elevators in the station were broken meaning he would then have to take the stairs and with this realization he let out in a hushed whisper “damn it.”
Finally making it up to the platform, out of breath, he sat down on one of the platform benches. He ended up sitting in the only available space on the entire platform, as he rested on the bench reveling in the refreshing breeze and the warm gaze of the sun he felt at peace for a moment. Suddenly there was a huge puff of cigarette smoke heading in his direction, he had no choice but to get up and walk to the other side of the platform.
Amazingly enough, there was another open spot on one of the other benches and he rushed to get to it before someone else did; on his jog to the seat he slipped on a small puddle of grape juice and dropped his phone into the train tracks. He climbed down into the train tracks to retrieve his T-Mobile G1. He climbed back up to the platform with his Android phone safely in hand. Standing on the edge of the platform holding his phone with the utmost care; Wilson heard an elderly man in a wheelchair call for his attention.
“You really should back away from there young man” Said the gentleman. “The yellow pads mean caution; you should try backing up just a few inches. There was a story on the news about a boy around your age who was standing where you are. The boy died because the third rail gave off some electrical discharge.”
“I thought you were gonna give me some real advice. Look man I always stand up here while waiting for the train. As a matter of fact I was just down on the rails getting my phone, if anything was gonna shock me it would’ve happened while I was down there. So thanks for the warning but I think I’ll be fine.” “Alright it’s your funeral” said the elderly gentleman as he rolled away.
Turned around looking down at the bus terminal, feeling the sunshine on the back of his head; he went to spit onto the train tracks. It was something he did regularly, and it didn’t really cross his mind to heed to the old man’s warning, it also didn’t cross his mind that a big portion of his body was covered in grape juice. So as he spit it, subsequently landed on the third rail and much to his surprise he was shocked with 750 megawatts of electricity.
As the electricity surged through his body, he let out his last excruciating yell. There were many things that he didn’t remember in his final moments. He didn’t remember his mother or his aunts who raised him since he was just a lad. He didn’t remember his closest cousins with whom he lived with as a child but had abandoned him and moved to New York. He didn’t remember the tale of his father dying one night in the Dominican Republic while on vacation just 5 months before he was born.
He didn’t remember his best friends who were like his brothers and sisters.
He did not remember his first kiss on that chilly January evening that left him feeling a little bit euphoric because she used just the right amount of tongue. He didn’t remember his love, the woman who saw him for what he truly was, the woman who always knew how to make him feel better even if she was the cause of his despair, the woman who he had been in love with for the past 11 months. He didn’t remember the items that brought him much joy and burned holes in his wallet, not his $400 Google smart phone, his $700 Playstation 3, or his $300
iPod.
He didn’t remember the best year of his life. He didn’t remember graduating from high school and joining City Year, devoting a year of his life to help mold the children in the city of Miami into our future leaders by tutoring, mentoring, and running an after-school program at Dunbar Elementary in Overtown.
He didn’t remember his hopes of graduating from Miami-Dade College and going to Boston to dedicate a second year of service. He didn’t remember his dreams of starting his own non-profit community center in his neighborhood of Allapatah. He didn’t remember his aspirations to someday be able have helped more people than he could count, to have people look up and admire him for how much he cares and not how much was willing to spend.
He didn’t remember fearing he’d never amount to anything, fearing that he would leave his loved ones with nothing to be proud of, fearing that he would leave this earth with nothing to show. He didn’t remember thinking that he is capable of so much more and will be greatly disappointed if he died before getting to make a greater impact in the lives of others.
No there wasn’t much remembered in his final moments on this earth, as the electricity shocked his body into paralysis and his organs started to fail, he had fallen down onto the platform floor. And in his last moment of life he thought to himself “I hope I don’t crap my pants”.