Journal #3

This segment is my opinion of Brutus and Cassius. My opinions are displayed through the words of "Lucas Byer".

[The segment below is from the fictional television show, Livin' Shakespeare!]

Lucas Byer is seated behind a small desk. Grinning at the audience.

Byer

Good evening, everyone, and welcome to Livin' Shakespeare!

The audience claps enthusiastically.

Byer

For the past week we've been talking about one of Shakespeare's tragedies, Julius Caesar. And tonight we have two special guests with us. First, ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce to you the murderous and dashingly handsome Caius Cassius!

The audience applauds. Caius Cassius comes on stage. Waves at the crowd. Sits down in a chair in front of Byer.

Byer

It's great to see you, Mr. Cassius.

Cassius smiles.

Caius

Please. Call me Caius.

Byer

Of course. So, Caius, tell me about your relationship with Caesar.

Caius

Sure. Caesar and I were sort of close. I mean, I did save his life a few years back. I thought we would've been even closer buds after that, but I guess I was wrong.

Byer

But I've heard from a few of my sources that you don't like him too much.

Caius fidgets.

Caius

Well, not really, I guess.

Byer

And why not?

Caius

He was weak. (scoffs) A man who can't swim? Even when he was ill, he begged for water from me like a sick girl.

Byer

As I recall, your original quote was "It doth amaze me a man of such a feeble temper should so get the start of the majestic world and bear the palm alone." Did you think you could be a better ruler?

Caius

It wasn't just that. Caesar wasn't even from a political background. And his name, shouted in the streets! Why is his name better than any of ours?

Caius leaps to his feet angrily. Byer shakes his head.

Byer

I'd have to say that I don't agree with you. Just because he is weak and was not born a ruler doesn't mean that you should assassinate him.

Caius

What are you talking about? How dare you accuse me!

Caius tries to attack Byer. Byer stands up.

Byer

Security!

Two security guards run on to the stage. Drag Caius away. Byer takes a breath. Straightens his tie. Sits back down.

Byer

I'm sorry for that interruption, ladies and gentlemen. But for now, please welcome the man of the hour, Caesar's best friend, Marcus Brutus!

The audience applauds. Marcus Brutus enters stage right. Waves to the audience.

Random Audience Member #1

I love you, Brutus!

Brutus grins widely. Points at the crowd as he continues toward his seat.

Brutus

And I love you, random citizen!

Brutus sits down. Byers smiles. Shakes Brutus' hand.

Byer

Well. it seems that we've got a favorite tonight!

Brutus

Thank you, Lucas.

Byer

So, Brutus... I can call you 'Brutus', right?

Brutus

Of course.

Byer

What is your opinion of Julius Caesar?

Brutus sighs. Shrugs.

Brutus

He was okay, I guess. We were the best of friends forever. But then Caius approached me with his plan.

Byer looks interested.

Byer

And what plan was that?

Brutus

He wanted me to help him kill Caesar.

The audience gasps.

Byer

Wow.

Brutus

Yeah. But I told Caius that I loved Caesar like a brother, although I didn't approve of him being king. But I wasn't jealous of Caesar, I did tell Caius that.

Byer lets out a breath.

Byer

Well, I'd have to say that I agree with you more than I agree with Caius. Jealousy is definitely not a reason to kill such a ruler.

Brutus

Of course you are right.

Byer

Well. That's all the time we have for tonight.

Byer turns to the audience.

Byer

I'm Lucas Byer...

Brutus

And I'm Marcus Brutus.

Byer

And this is Livin' Shakespeare, wishing you a good night!

The audience applauds. Byer and Brutus shake hands. The camera pans out. Credits roll. Brutus whispers in Byer's ear.

Byer

I don't believe it!

Byer gestures to the camera.

Byer

Keep rolling! Keep rolling!

The credits stop. Camera zooms in. Byer turns to the audience.

Byer

I don't believe this, everyone, but Brutus has just confessed to being another murderer of the king!

Brutus grins proudly.

Brutus

It's true, all right.

Two security guards rush on stage. Brutus pulls out a sword.

Brutus

Ha!

The security guards pull out a pair of tasers. Brutus drops the sword.

Brutus

Oh, merda.

The security guards tase Brutus. Brutus falls limply to the ground. The security guards pick him up and carry him off stage. Byer grins at the audience.

Byer

Again, that is all for tonight! Thank you, everybody!

Byer turns away. The credits roll. Byer murmurs to himself.

Byer

Man, I cannot keep doing this!

End scene.

Journal #2

"...and be here at least one hour early so we can practice before the game," Coach Davis snarled, shoving his Yankees cap back on his head. He turned to Alex. "You too, hot shot." "Yes, sir," Alex mumbled. Peyton watched as the coach retreated to his car then turned to Alex. "How can you keep playing for this guy? It's ridiculous. He treats you like dirt." Alex stood up. "So?" "So?" Kevin laughed, standing. "You're the best batter on the team. Remember the three runs you batted in last game?" He shoved his bat carelessly into his bag. "Hey, if you don't care about being beaten down by Davis for the rest of your life, that's fine by me." Kevin took a swig of his water. "Any of you guys need a ride? My dad's got this new pickup truck, and---" Five of the boys leapt to their feet and immediately started blabbering on and on about how they needed a ride. Kevin motioned towards his dad's truck. "Go on, get in the back." He turned to Peyton. "You comin', Peyton?" "Nah," Peyton shrugged. "You go on." Kevin grinned. "A'right." Then he turned and followed the boys to the truck. Peyton glanced at Alex. "Hey, you want to hang out later? I think there's---" "No," Alex interrupted, his face stony. "What's the matter, Alex?" Peyton questioned. "Nothing," he snarled. "Just leave me alone!"

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Three hours later Peyton was at the fence behind Alex's house. He creaked open the gate and slipped into his yard. Suddenly the screen door slammed open and he dove into the bushes. He peeked through the branches and his breath caught in his throat. Alex was sitting on the back porch of his house with Jeremy Cahal. Jeremy was the school drug dealer and bully; you ran into him, you didn't leave without a black eye or a broken nose. They were sitting on the porch steps, and there was black backpack clenched tightly in Jeremy's hands. Alex shifted uncomfortably and the floorboards squeaked. Jeremy glared at him, his dark black hair dangling in front of his blue eyes. Alex looked as though he was going to puke from nervousness. "You... you got it?" He managed to squeak. Jeremy snorted then spat on the ground. "Course I got it. You got the money." Alex nodded, his red hair swaying. "Fifty bucks, right?" Jeremy grunted. Unzipping the backpack, he brought out a bag that contained a thin needle. "One injection, alright? That's what you're paying me for." "Right," Alex answered quickly. He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket and handed it to him. After shoving the money into his backpack, Jeremy removed the needle from the bag and grabbed Alex's arm. He briskly pushed the needle into his arm and pressed the plunger down to inject the liquid into Alex's body. Then he jerked the needle from his arm, causing Alex to squeal in pain. "Shut up," Jeremy snarled, dropping the needle into his backpack. Peyton watched in shock as he realized that Alex was taking steroids. He backed slowly from the bushes and towards the fence, keeping an eye on Alex and Jeremy. Then in one brisk motion he turned around and hurdled over the fence. Once his feet hit the ground he took off at a sprint. He didn't stop running until he reached his house.

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"You've got to believe me, coach! I saw it with my own eyes! Jeremy injected Alex with steroids!" Peyton was standing inside the coach's office, trying to explain the events of last night. Coach Davis was leaning against the desk, his Yankees cap pulled low over his head. "You sure 'bout this, Peyton?" He growled. Peyton nodded slowly. "I know I might lose him as a friend for doing this, and we'll also lose him as a teammate. But this is what I know is right. And I have to do something about it." Davis removed his cap and tucked it under his arm. Then he began clapping, shaking his head. "Delightful speech, Peyton. Rousing!" He chuckled then rubbed a hand over his short brown hair that glistened with sweat. Shoving the Yankees cap back on his head, he patted Peyton on the back. "Don't worry 'bout this, Peyton. I'll get the boy checked out." With that, he left his office and took off toward the locker room. Peyton sighed then turned and jogged out of the building and up onto the field.

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"Hey." Peyton dropped his bat and turned toward the dugout. Alex stood there, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. His eyes were tired and angry; his jaw set in a permanent scowl. Peyton swallowed hesitantly as Alex walked toward him. "How could you do this to me?" Alex murmured, his brown eyes cold. "Listen, Alex, I'm sorry," Peyton began, but Alex merely shook his head. "You're not sorry. At least not yet you're not." Alex grabbed Peyton by the collar and pulled back his fist. Peyton was able to get out a yell just before Alex's fist connected with his face. Peyton fell to the ground, cheek throbbing and nose bleeding. He propped himself up on his elbows and blinked. Alex grabbed him by the hair and cocked his fist. "Alex!" Both boys turned around. Alex immediately dropped Peyton, his face full of fear and fury. Peyton turned toward his rescuer. It was Coach Davis. Davis pulled Peyton to his feet. Alex turned to run but the coach merely grabbed him by the ear. "You all right?" He asked Peyton. The boy nodded. "Good," the coach nodded, then pulled Alex's ear. Alex squealed in pain as the coach jerked him towards his office. "You, my boy, and I are going to have a long talk," Davis grinned. Moments later they disappeared into the building, leaving Peyton to stand on the field and wonder if he had done the right thing.

Journal #1

Early this year, I was in an honors geometry class that was taught by Mr. Wieland. I loved that class because Mr. Wieland made every second a lot of fun. Jokes flew around the classroom, doughnuts and cider were snacked on, and Notre Dame football news was brought up often. But no matter how fun the class was, I still struggled with what we were going over in class. It was strange, really. Homework and classwork were a breeze; math tests known as OAA's, or Opportunity for Academic Achievement, were a different story. According to Mr. Wieland, I wasn't detail oriented enough with the proofs we worked on. Although I was a little upset about leaving the class when it came up that I was failing the course, it ended up working out well. I am now in a regular geometry class taught by Ms. O'Connell. So far it has been a simple class, studying geometry from a different angle than what was taught in the honors geometry class. I know a couple of the people in my class including Sam, an 8th grader who dropped down to regular geometry as well. But those were not the only good points of my new classroom. On the way to English I stop by Mr. Wieland's room sometimes and peek in to wave if he's there. But the best part is that although I left his class, I still get to hear some of his stories during my biology class with Mrs. Petaccia. All in all, my dropping out of that class was not as difficult as I expected; in fact, my transition has been smooth, easy, and perfect.