Journal #7 - Chapters 20-24

From the perspective of Aunt Alexandra:

My life in Maycomb was basically the same as it ever was...except for the case that is. I had always been treated wonderfully in that little town that I called home. I never really had a permanent home when I was little. We moved around a lot, so Maycomb was a nice little haven that I secretly adored and wanted to live in.

Ever since my grown little brother wanted me to come, and after I ever so happily agreed, I was never treated the same as I used to be. I was treated kindly, of course, as most everyone was in that welcoming little town. However despite the kindness, I felt a difference in how people looked at me. If I didn't know any better I would think they didn't like my intruding on their tightly knit lives. But I did know better. I knew that Maycomb folks always had reasons for emotions, whether it was their family's name, their race, their being a pauper or being rich, it was always something.

Since I knew better, and since I knew Maycomb people were good, I knew it was my name. Since Atticus had taken on this case—which I didn't know what to think of—I was associated with him. Even though the case was almost completely irrelevant to how I was treated, people related my name as a “nigger lovers”. I didn't know what to think of the case because I loved my brother dearly and wanted him to win, however I never agreed with the concept of blacks being equal to whites. I hoped for Atticus to win, but I secretly wished he wouldn't for the sake of Tom Robinson losing. It was a very complicated predicament for me.

Even though I knew it was highly improbable that he would win, I still wanted to please him somehow. So, I decided to do whatever he told me to and whatever my responsibilities were to his family. I took taking care of the children seriously, not for them but for Atticus.

Subsequently, the one thing I had to do was take care of them well. It was also the one thing I didn't do. I lost the kids. It was a horrible feeling letting him down, but all I could do was send Calpurnia looking for them. I anxiously waited on her, and possibly the verdict of the case. I had no idea what was going on. She returned with them safe, but when she told me that Atticus allowed them to go back, I almost fainted. I didn't want them going back; it was no place for white children to be, but Atticus was who he was.

Journal #6 - Chapters 16-19

From the Perspective of Mayella Violet Ewell:

Today was a very interesting day. It was the day that the town gathered for the trial. I would have to go to the witness stand and give “my” story about what happen. It wasn't exactly the real story, but it would be the one I would have to tell unless I wanted my dad dead or in jail. He was making me tell a story that wasn't the truth, and I am a horrible liar. I had to just play the victim and act like I was telling the truth.

When it came to me being called up, I was a nervous wreck. I tried to repeat the same information that my father had said just a few minutes before, but it was hard to remember it all. I never had a good memory.

The real story of what happened was that I felt very lonely. My family wasn't very loving or supportive of me and I always stayed under the radar. Being poor encumbered me greatly in life, even though I tried to be as amiable as possible. I had no friends, nobody to confide in. I resorted in rebellion. I knew my father would not approve of boys or anything of the sort, so that is what I did. I didn't really want a boyfriend, especially a black boyfriend, but I had to be rebellious, it would save me a lot of loneliness.

The one time I did something rebellious my father caught me. Then the court case. I knew I had to protect my fathers side of the story even though I resented and begrudged him at the same time. He abused me, but I knew I could not reveal that to the jury, not in front of him at least. That would only make it worse. I decided to stay true to his side instead of my side only out of fear that he would beat me later. Anything he did however would probably not dispel of my rebelliousness. I wasn't religious, so the swear to tell the truth meant nothing to me.

My story did not hold up well when it was mixed with the nerves. I stuck true to what my father told me to say at least. When I was questioned however, I didn't have a clue what to say. I was nothing but oblivious to all of the people staring at my apparent lies, but I could do nothing to make it seem more true. I did come up with one clever way to deal with my easily seen lies, play the victim. I was good at that because I was a victim, of a different crime however. I tried hard to make people sorry for me, and at least it was better then telling lies that everyone knew were false. After all of this, at least  I made it through the day without being beaten by my father as much as I expected to be.

Journal #5 - Chapters 13-15

From the perspective of Calpurnia:

Aunt Alexandra came for a visit. I never liked her very much, but she was company and I had to treat her well. I know the children don't like her but they—especially Scout—need her as a motherly figure. She is very proper just like the Finch's are known for being. I continued to treat our guest welcomingly, even though she doesn't deserve that much compensation. I know it was a good choice for Atticus to invite her to help out.

Our new guest didn't seem too happy about me being there. Maybe she didn't think colored people should be in white people's homes, or maybe she thought I was the one who made the children disobedient and improper. When Scout brought up that I took them to my church, she didn't like that idea at all, though Atticus didn't seem to mind. The days went by unchanging, and I continued to treat our visitor nicely, even though it was nearly impossible to extract anything bad about her all around town.

After a while, I find out that Dill has given us a surprise visit. I don't mind too much, it's just one more mouth to feed. One night, however, I overheard Alexandra talking to Atticus about something I don't think I was supposed to hear. I heard her say,”We need to get rid of her,” but the rest I wasn't sure of. If she was meaning they had to get rid of me, I would just have to be as nice as possible to her. For some reason Atticus always listened to her. If she antagonized him with the thought for a long enough period of time, I would be fired. I just kept doing my job and acted oblivious about the whole thing, even though it was very apparent she disliked me.

Most of the while she was visiting, I was preoccupied with housework, as usual. Atticus seemed a lot busier than normal, which worried me. He never seems himself when he's stressed that much because of a case. He explained the case and its importance to me before, but with Aunt Alexandra around, and him being gone all the time, it was difficult to find time to talk about it. I also felt bad for him because he wanted the best for the children I knew that. That fact made me try even harder, and I prayed for him to win the case, even though the odds were almost impossible to beat.

Journal #4 - Chapters 9-12

From the perspective of Mrs. Dubose:

My life was going pretty well. Myself and everyone I knew were getting older and older, but nothing very significant was happening in my life. Occasionally I would get really sick, but overall I was doing fine. Just the other week I started to get real sick. I figured it would be best if I went on pain medication, it would be better for everyone around me. So I did.

I didn't have much to do with my time, so I would sit out on the front porch and talk to anyone that came by. If they got too close to my plants I would teach them a lesson. For the most part, people walked on the other side of the street, trying to stay inconspicuous I believe, which bothered me a lot. I didn't see why they couldn't walk on my side, so I'd speak my mind.

One day, these kids that live down the street from me named Jem and Scout walked by; on my side of the street, just how it was supposed to be. Even though they did that right, the girl didn't even look or act like a lady. She acted like a boy her age, and I knew her mama wouldn't be proud of that. So, I taught her correctly. She was very improper and if no one else was going to teach her then I would have to.  People probably thought of me as cantankerous, which didn't bother me because I was just trying to put things the way they should be.

Another thing was wrong. Why weren't they in school? I though children were supposed to be in school all of the time not lallygagging by my house. Once again, I spoke my mind. They talked back to me, saying what day of the week it was, but why did I care that it was a Saturday? Supposedly they were going to town. This is also very improper; I should talk to their father about this. Actually, Atticus was defending negroes, he didn't deserve to be talked to. No matter how much peril the negro might be in, he didn't deserve to be represented. Once again I spoke my mind about that. The kids got an angry look on their face, and I have no idea why. I wouldn't be angry, they needed to be told the truth.

I kept taking my pain medication. Jessie said I was addicted, but I was not. It made me feel better. I couldn't live without it because the pain was so unbearable. No one knew what I was sick with which frightened me. I could die any day at any time. With nothing left to do in my life, I hoped something interesting would happen.

Indeed something interesting did happen. Jessie came in a little while after the confrontation with the children. He said something about all of my flowers cut down at the stems. I didn't believe him but I couldn't go out and check. I didn't really care who did it as long as they would repay me somehow. A little while after, one of the children named Jem came to me. I had a feeling it was him all along. I scolded him. Then he asked me how he could repay me. I thought for a moment. I wasn't really in need of anything because of my crucial health state. It wouldn't be bad to have someone read to me again. It would remind me of my mother. That would be nice; a simple reminder of my mother. I made him come over everyday for about a month. I'd surely be dead by then.

And so it was. He came everyday with his snot nose sister. She still didn't listen to me about being a proper lady. Maybe she'd realize no one will treat her like a lady if she didn't act like one. He read and I didn't listen. Just the simple pleasure of remembering my mother was good enough. Also the pain medication helped sooth me. These readings were the only significant events going on in my life, even though to my old ears the boys voice was inaudible.

About 3 weeks into the readings, Jessie mentioned making a will. I didn't know anyone or particularly care for anyone in specific. I didn't have any contemporaries especially close to me. My husband had died many years ago, and I didn't care about my will. 

One thing I wanted before I died was to give the children a simple little present. They stuck true to their promise of reading to me, which needed to be repaid. I decided to forgive the boy for chopping down my flowers. I wasn't going to live much longer so the plants didn't mean anything to me. I let it go, and hope he got the significance of the present I gave him. I felt myself at peace at my last moments, nothing left to do or say. I had lived my life long and well, and hopefully tought children things along the way.

Journal #3 - Chapters 8-9

From the perspective of Jem:

After Dill left and school was back in session, we still found things to do around the neighborhood. I figured it would get boring, but we kept busy. For the first few days we kept busy with the snow. I had heard about snow before. I always wanted to see it in person, experience it, but it was really rare, especially for Alabama. I had also heard about snowmen, so I decided to make one with Scout. You would think it took a short while to make, but it fortunately took up some of our time. It turned out looking like Mr. Avery which made me chuckle. I didn't think it was a bad thing to make it look like Mr. Avery, but Atticus thought it was. I guess were not allowed to impersonate anyone in the neighborhood in any way. At least it was fun.

The night we made the snowman, everyone was soundly sleeping. All of a sudden, I hear Atticus telling me to wake up. Groggily, I hear him say,”Jem you have to wake up, there is a fire nearby!” I was lying in bed, still half asleep, thinking how can there be a fire when the weather is below freezing? Well, Atticus—who I thought of as more of an acquaintance more than a father—had never lied to me before, so I just kept my mouth shut and went along with what he said. He told me not to tell Scout but to let her figure it out herself. I agreed, knowing that she might panic or think that our house was on fire.

When we made it outside in the frozen air, I found out that Atticus was indeed telling the truth. Miss Maudie's entire house was blazing. Atticus made us stand over by the Radley's house and watch from afar. I felt like I was old and brave enough to help put the fire out, but I knew I had to stay with Scout. She was so cold, and looked almost sick, it was a sad sight. I did the best I could to comfort her, but soon the fire would be out.

I knew Miss Maudie would not be happy about her house burning down. More important, she wouldn't be happy her garden burnt down. She would recover it and be in a good mood in no time, I knew. That's just the way Miss Maudie is.

When the flames were most of the way out and other houses were out of danger, Atticus, Scout and I went back inside. I looked at Scout to see if she was okay, and I noticed a strange, unfamiliar blanket on her shoulders. Atticus asked where she got it and she looked surprise to see it there. Then she looked at me even though I was just as surprised as she was. Hmm, it couldn't have been Scout or Atticus, and I knew it wasn't me...the only person it could be was Arthur Boo Radley. At first I thought there was no way it was him, but after thinking about it, it could have been. After all, he did give us several other things.

It was weird knowing that he was alive, and then knowing that he was a very nice person. It almost made me feel bad for being so afraid of him. I was still very afraid, but I don't think I would tease him and his house so much anymore. Knowing he was nice was just more of an incentive to get him to come out. I would have to find a way.

The next day was a normal school day again. After school, I overheard Scout talking to Atticus about some sort of a trial. This interested me because normally me and scout would stay out of his business. I debated between jumping into the conversation or not, and finally decided not to. Atticus would tell me when he was ready if I didn't hear someone talk about it otherwise.

Christmas came around the corner and I wasn't really excited. We went to Finch's Landing once again to no surprise. I liked the place, it was just getting repetitive after going there for so long Christmas after Christmas. This time was slightly more different. It seemed as though there was a lot more tension in our family than usual. Something else that was different was Scout's language, and how Atticus let her use it. Typically, Atticus was fanatical about fowl language. I'm sure there was some specific reason as to why he let her, even though I was perplexed about the whole situation. She'd probably get over it, and things might return to normal afterwards. In the meantime, I spent my Christmas most like other Christmas'. Nothing really exciting went on. I did see Scout isolated in the corner later that first day, however I thought nothing much of it. She was probably scolded for cursing. Other than that, the days went by without anything special happening.

Journal #2 - Chapters 4-7

From the perspective of Dill:

School was finally out. I was really excited to go see my girlfriend in Maycomb. Her brother was pretty cool, too, I guess. Anything is better than spending another lonely summer in Mississippi. Since I had no father, I didn't really have a lot to do. There aren't very many kids my age there. I was so excited to spend the whole summer in Alabama, excited enough to propose to my love, Scout.

When I arrived I proposed immediately. It didn't matter what her response was so I figure we are engaged now. I also made up a few lies to go along with my excitement. Whenever I'm nervous or excited I come up with lies. If you ask Jem and Scout, they will say unanimously that my lies are believable. They probably don't even know they're lies. Another reason why I tell them I because they impress people, including Scout, I can tell. Even though were engaged I would still like her to be impressed by me.

After the long trip to Alabama, I saw Jem and Scout. We were a little bit bored in the beginning until Jem had a brilliant idea to play a game called Boo Radley. It was very fun, even though Scout didn't really like it that much. We played for days; there were so many things about the Radley's that were interesting. Even if they were lies, they were convincing, just like mine. Eventually Atticus got suspicious as to what we were playing, so Scout started getting paranoid that we shouldn't be playing.

Me and Jem decided to evade Scout because she was such a girl sometimes and me and Jem wanted to do some of the funner, braver stuff without her. We came up with dangerous plans and gave our biggest plan the most thought. We decided to write a letter to Boo Radley. He was very mysterious. We also came up with the plan because we wanted some excitement; the Boo Radley game was getting boring. Our plan became like a chameleon. It had to be perfect so that if anything went wrong it could still work out some way.

I convinced Jem to tell Scout about the plan because she looked lonely sitting outside with Miss Maudie all day. We told her about it and made her go through with it. We would slip the note into the shutters asking if Boo would come out and talk to us. We were so bored any little excitement would give us a thrill. As Jem started putting the note into the shutters on the window, his hand teetered back and forth in the air. I could tell he was nervous. I was only slightly nervous because I would be leaving by the end of summer...if I made it out alive. There goes my braveness, but I still had to act like I wasn't scared. At the same time I didn't want to die, but the plan was perfect and there was no going back.

Jem's hand never made it close enough to stick the note on. After a couple of minutes of trying, however, Mr. Finch came and got Jem and Scout in trouble. I acted like I wasn't part of it. Then he found out about the game and I knew my mom would find out, too. I still thought the game was fun, and we would find something else to do for the rest of the summer if we couldn't play it anymore.

Sure enough we found other things to do. We eventually came up with another plan involving the Radley house. Even though the idea of that spooky house tormented me, I had to act brave for Scout. Also, I was very curious is Boo was even still alive. We decided to go peek in the house. Once again Scout was scared. I didn't really care anymore, my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to go look inside the house. We peeked in. I could see a dark figure and a tiny light, but other than that I couldn't see much. My mom said I had to be home right after we were done playing, so I decided I would stay alive, and I let my curiosity die down. I wouldn't come back for an entire year. I could always check out the house next year...see if Boo was still alive...alive enough to kill me. I had to stop thinking about it. I had to be brave. When I said goodbye to Scout, who I was still engaged to, I was brave enough to kiss her. I was excited for next year, but most of all I was happy with what I accomplished that summer. Between the Radley's place and my relationship with Scout, I was indeed very brave, and can't wait for next summer.

Journal #1 - Chapters 1-3

Not completed yet.