All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
My Elvis Essay
Ring! Ring! Ring! The sound of my annoying alarm clock waking me up at eight o’clock to a bright and sunny Friday morning. Wishing for quiet, I failed to receive it when I heard the news rambling about Elvis sightings. I poked my head around the corner to get a better listen, “Since six o’clock this morning, we have been receiving calls from the people of Shelton that Elvis has been spotted numerous times through out the town.” Turning off the T.V., I got dressed, gathered up all my dirty clothes, shoved them in a gym bag, and began my walk to the Shelton Laundry Mat. Fifteen minutes and seventeen blocks later, I reached my destination. As I entered the worn down, laundry detergent scented building, I scanned the room for a spot to wash my clothes. It was a busy day today. Every spot had been snatched so I decided to take a seat on a bench near the entrance. About five minutes later of waiting, a hefty looking woman cleared out, allowing me to take her place. As I opened the door to the washing machine, I discovered a folded up piece of paper lying inside. Curious, I picked the folded mystery and began to unfold. Once opened, I gazed upon the written words printed on the now unfolded paper. “John, if you are reading this then you have picked this note up out of the washer. What I need you to do is important. You are to tell no one. I need you to drive to Seattle Monday morning. Alone. You are to tell no one about where you are going or doing. You will hear more from me after your journey.” With a puzzled look painted on my face, I began stuffing my clothes into the washer. I then sat down to enjoy the rest of my time playing the waiting game.
One hour later, I left the laundry mat and began my walk home. As I was strolling through the town I passed a trash infested ally. “Pssst” a strange sound traveled through the air from behind. Turning back to investigate, I was man handled to the ground by two hundred marshmallow peeps. “Forget what you’ve read!” they demanded as they scampered off into a near by sewer drain. I stood up, brushed myself off, and continued the walk home.
When I arrived home, my eyes widened, my mouth dropped, and my heart skipped. The definition of the saying ‘Home Sweet Home’ was redefined. The windows busted out, holes in the roof, hobo passed out in the front lawn, front door knocked down. My house was a giant dump that had surfaced up to earth from the pits of Hell below.
I entered through the front entrance nervous to see the rest of the house. Once I entered, my eyes were astonished to see that the inside was completely untouched. I began to feel a sign of relief when I noticed a note pinned up on the front of the refrigerator door. It read, “Forget what you’ve read!” This was getting annoying quite quickly. I grabbed my keys and stormed out of the house. I got into my car and made my way to the downtown police station.
“So let me get this straight.” the police officer began. “You were walking home from the laundry mat when you were jumped by two hundred marshmallow peeps? And the whole outside of your house was trashed? All because they want you to forget something you’ve read?”
“That’s correct.” I said nodding.
“Sir would you mind taking a drug test?” the officer asked.
“I’m not doing any drugs!” I exclaimed. “I’m telling you the truth. I’m being threatened by peeps!”
“Listen.” The officer whispered as he leaned in. “I can understand the feeling of wanting to get away from reality and everyone on this planet. It’s magical, fun, crazy cool. But John, you don’t have to do drugs to be cool and popular. You don’t have to spend your time hiding your talents. Your better then what you think you are. You can sing.”
“Huh?” I asked confused.
“You don’t have to listen to him anymore.” The officer’s eyes began to bulge out of their sockets and tear up. “You’re thirty-seven and still live with that man you call, Dad. And sure, mom’s never coming back. And you’ll eventually get over all the nights you’ve been haunted by that childhood memory many years ago. You were thirteen and interested in girls. You didn’t know Trisha was actually a Steve.” When the officer had finished, sweat poured from ever pore on his face. His shirt was drenched with the fallen tears he had shed.
“…I’m gonna go.” I said quickly fleeing the building.
I stood in front of the police station lost. If the police wouldn’t help me, who would? It was only 9:53 in the morning and I was more stressed and puzzled then I had ever been in my life. I got in my car and headed home. Once I arrived, I started cleaning up the outside of my house. When I finished, the time was 10:00 at night. Sitting at the end of my bed, I kicked off my shoes, and retreated for a nice, long, relaxing, slumber.
Waking up with a big yawn, I looked at my alarm clock. 7:00 A.M. Monday it displayed. “Crap!” I yelled, remembering the note I had found at the laundry mat. I slipped on my shoes and ran out the of the house, forgetting to change into some clean clothes. I hopped in my car and sped out of the driveway. As I was driving, my thoughts were racing. “Will there actually be someone waiting for me in Seattle? Could they have the solution for my ‘peep’ problem?” Taking a left, I made my way onto the freeway. “Why would I get a note before the peep attack? Is it possible they could have known of the attack before it had even happened?” I picked up my speed. Now driving 10mph over the speed limit. About forty-five minutes later, I stopped pondering over my thoughts when a loud noise became a disturbance. Clash! My front tire went flat. As I pulled off to the right, a cop car pulled up right behind me. As the officer stepped out, I wiped my eyes to make sure what I was seeing was actually true. Stepping out of the cop car was the same officer from the police station. I cleared my throat, wondering if the guy had been following me. When he made his way to the side of the car, he kneeled down and took his shades off. With an enlightened smile on his face, he said, “Well what do you know, it’s a small world after all.”
“Hello officer. I’ve got a flat.” I replied.
“I can see that. Well you’re in luck. There’s a rest stop just a few miles up ahead. I’d be happy to give you a lift.” The officer said.
“Well thank you.” I said, getting out of my car and following him back to his.
Within a couple minutes, we reached the rest stop.
“Thank you.” I told the officer
“Not a problem.” He answered before driving off.
I began to walk towards a pay phone when something stopped me dead in my tracks. About 12ft in front of me, resting next to the pay phone sat an Etch-a-Sketch. On it read, “John, around the corner is a car. Get in it.”
Staying the same distance away from the pay phone, I walked around the building the pay phone was mounted on. On the opposite side of the building, a black Escalade with tinted windows sat in the parking lot with the engine running. As I asked myself if going towards the car was a smart move, I suddenly found myself walking towards the car. I walked to the passenger side, opened the door, and got in. In the driver’s seat, was a man dressed in a black suit with black shades and a white wire running from the back of his neck to his ear.
“So where are we go-“
“No questions!” The man snapped. We made our way to the freeway and began heading in the direction to town. “Here.” The man said, handing me a dirty, black book. “The boss wants you to have this.”
“Thanks. I guess.” I said taking the black book. When I opened it up, I noticed the name Thomas Edison was written in gold ink on the back of the cover. Skimming through the pages, I began to realize that this book was a diary. Thomas Edison’s diary. I turned to the first page and began to read.
“I can’t stay here much longer. I can’t continue to work for him. Creating these mad machines and inventions of death. He frightens me so. Actually, come to think of it. I’m not even sure he’s a him. All I know is if he isn’t stopped, everyone will be in grave danger.”
The more I read, the more it seemed to trail off from the first log. “Today I took a bath, went to work, heard a joke or two, and almost got the courage to ask out Debra from the office. There’s always next year.”
I looked up to notice that we were in sitting in the McDonalds drive-through. I looked over to the driver. “Get out.” He calmly said. I got out, and started to walk home. Luckily, my house was only six minutes away from McDonalds. When I got home and entered the house, I could hear a noise from upstairs. “Five more!” a voice yelled from my room. When I got upstairs, I stood in front of my doorway to find an old, grey haired, man sweating fiercely from his head down. An old man who’s appearance resembled the famous singer, Elvis. In my room was a man, thought to be dead, working out on mu ab-cruncher machine.
“Hey how’s it going?” He asked ever so calmly as if he owned the place. “About time you got here.”
“Yeah. Why are you here?” I asked. “And how?”
“Me?” He responded. “Well I came back from the dead to help you. To be honest, I’m surprised you’re still alive. I had expected the peeps to kill you by now.”
“You know about the peeps? Wait- kill?” I nervously asked.
“Yes kill. They’re in the mafia after all.” He said filling me in.
“Mafia?” I asked.
“Yes. Mafia. And you’re going to stop them by taking out their leader, Big Cheez.” He said getting up off the ab-cruncher.
“And how am I supposed to do something like that?”
“Here.” He said handing me a piece of paper what looked like a map. “Follow these directions to find his lair.”
I looked down at the map. “So all I have to is-“he was gone. I looked back at the map. It was just a piece of notebook paper with a few squares with a few lines. I walked downstairs and left the house. I began walking according to the map. I took a left from the front door of my house and walked straight for about six minutes. Then I turned to take a right and walked straight for about seven minutes. And then I took a left and walked straight for about ten minutes till. I ended up standing in front of what would be a big square on the map. I turned to face the building and journeyed into the only store in the town with great prices, Walmart.
“Hello.” A woman said greeting me as I walked in. “Hello there.” A man said with a smile as I passed the check out stand. “Hey buddy. Have a great day.” Another man said as I walked by him. “Wow.” I thought to myself. “The people here are so friendly and nice. $2.05 for two 12-Packs of Mtn. Dew! This place is heaven!” I yelled out of pure joy. Everything was cheap, the place smelled of beautiful daffodils, and my body was all tingly and warm. I never wanted to leave. Walmart was now the “spot”.
As I walked through the aisles, I could here the sound of children laughing and playing, the sound of church quires singing. Walmart was a land of happiness and prices come true. Walking by the cheese section, a whiff of smoke hit my nostrils. As I looked around to discover the where abouts of the smell, I noticed an oddly shaped block of cheddar cheese. It was standing up rather than laying flat like all the other blocks of cheese. Barely touching it with the tip of my finger, the block of cheese began to sink like an elevator going down. When it was out of sight, a loud sound made its way from the hole that the block of cheese had filled. Crash! I peered into the dark hole and noticed that it went down a long ways. Without second thinking, I reached into the hole and felt a handle. I began to tug on it. Click. I had turned the handle to the left. I glanced down at my feet and saw a square shaped trap door open up beneath where I was standing, sending me on a long fall. I dropped about fifty feet before falling into an ocean of liquid cheese. I struggled to swim in the thick gunk but managed to grab a patch of land off to the side. Pulling myself out, I examined the area I was standing in. It was dark; there were dirt piles everywhere, an ocean of bright glowing cheese. I appeared to be standing in a cave.
“Finally, we meet at last.” A voice said from behind. I turned around to come face to face with absolutely nothing.
“Down here.” The voice said. I looked down to see that I was standing in front of a can of Cheez-Wiz.
“Sorry.” I said, “I didn’t see you.”
“Hmph.” The can of Cheez-Wiz pouted. “As you already know I’m a bad can.” The can of cheese began snickering.
“That was lame.” I told the can.
“I’m head leader of the mafia. There’s nothing lame about that. Now if you’d excuse me, I wish to get back to my evil plot in raising the prices of all items in Walmart.”
“No!” I yelled, kicking the can of Cheez-Wiz. The can went flying into the ocean of cheese. “Nooo!” The Cheez-Wiz cried. “I can’t swim!” Those were the can’s last words before sinking to the bottom of the ocean of cheese.
Ring! Ring! Ring! My alarm clock waking me up to a bright, sunny Friday morning. I rubbed my eyes and looked around the room. “Whew. It was just a dream.” I happily said to myself. Then all of a sudden, a grey haired wrinkled faced, old man, whose appearances matched Elvis’, poked his head around the corner. “Walmart’s prices are insanely cheap! Oh. Do you like bacon with your eggs?” He asked.
My head began to spin. I felt queasy. I let out a loud cry. “Nooooo!”