John's Parents example essay topic

John Maynard lived in the corner dorm of the Universe building. He used to say it was called the universe building because he was actually the center of the universe. He even had a proof showing himself to indeed be the center of the universe. Most of it was whimsical nonsense, but John pointed it out whenever someone tried to convince him there was more important things in life then his work. To John, life was work. John's parents, Richard and Debra Maynard were both killed when John was only five years old.

John witnessed the entire scene from the balcony up the stairs. Over the years dozens of psychologists and therapists had asked him to describe the event as well as he could. He did his best he could, humoring them mostly. Now at twenty-five even his parent's faces had nearly been forgotten, let alone a masked assailant who had broke in looking for money, food, or whatever it was he had wanted, twenty years ago. What he did remember was the man's words to him before he fled the scene. "Don't dream John", was all he had said.

Because of his parent's deaths, John became reclusive and shy. He was transferred to no less then seven foster homes through his childhood. Some had been good, some had been tolerable, and some had been living nightmares. However, through them all he had his studies. Mathematics and logic was a place where he could disappear to for a few hours each day.

A land where y = y 2 and energy and mass come together to form a perfect union. John's mind excelled at such ideas and at eighteen he fled his last parents for the University of Michigan. Four years and a physics degree later he found himself at MIT working with some of the most brilliant minds of the world. His natural adaptation caused him to focus more on space-time and string theories. The thought intrigued him and more and more of his life fell to calculations and theory. His work and study became a shield from his past and the emotions that came along with it.

Whenever a dream of a masked assailant skirted along his unconsciousness he would wake and spend the rest of the night in reading and proofs. "John why do you insist on arguing with everything I say? There can be no t if t is not at least equivalent to-"Your not listening to be Shane. If we inverse the principles of the mass then we will see that-"Inverse the principles of the mass? Again with that notion!" Dr. Shane Haziloth was the professor of astrophysics in the research department.

A skinny man he stood only five foot seven with a large pair of quite think glasses dominating his face. The man had a fire for theory however and they were having one of their quite frequent arguments over another of John's theories. "If you would only look at what I've done with the co-efficient, then I think you'd see that my calculations-"Oh, I've seen all your calculations before John and they were rubbish the last time I looked at them! I'm going to get some food.

I'll be back when you get your mind turned around". With that, Shane gobbled up his oversized notebook and stormed out of the research room. An audible sigh issued out of John as he sat down rejected again. The room was brightly lit with three large windows that poured in light.

Two huge white boards dominated the North and West walls and where still filled with calculations and formulas most of which had been crossed out in a moment of anger my Dr. Haziloth. Swiveling over towards the window john saw their pet macaw in its cage staring over at him. "Now what do you want Hawking?" The bird continued to stare at him with an almost knowing look at him. "I know, I know. You understand this all and are just waiting until I figure out the answer before telling the others that I'm right. We " ll I wish you'd say something now, it's hard to be the only one on my side".

The bird gave a shutter and flapped his wings twice in reply. John smiled and went back to the board, determined to fix his latest problem. That night the dreams came again. He was five years old and dressed in his checkered pajamas. There had been a crash so he wandered over to the stairway and looked down over the entranceway. His mother was half way down the steps and had not noticed him behind her.

From downstairs came harsh muttering. The words are rough and too quiet to here, but one of the voices is that of his father. Something breaks with a loud crash and his mother runs down the stairs. She reaches the bottom just as an explosion of noise erupts from the room followed by a loud thud. His mother runs out into the next room and cries out just before another loud BOOM! Another thud and then silence.

Confused and terrified John slowly climbs down the steps and into the next room. A man in black with his face covered kneels over the body of his mother. Sirens. Sirens in the distance jolt the man up and he looks up at John. Two blank uncaring eyes stare back at him. With a terrible scream, the man leaps up and runs at him.

John sat up with a muffled scream in his bed. His heart was racing and his breath was coming in gasps as he looked around and slowly became aware of where he was. Trying to calm himself, he got up and paced over to his workbench. The math would calm him. It always did.

Sometime later John looked out and saw the sun just peeking up over the horizon. He looked out at the new day and gave a loud yawn as his stomach growled. Detaching himself from his huge mass of papers, he exited his room and headed downstairs in search for food. On the stairwell, he passed Professor Haziloth. "Good morning, Shane". John said over a yawn.

"Morning? Are you ok, John? You missed your class today as well as our meeting."What? It can't be that late, what time is it?"It's past seven, John". Shane said with a concerned tone. "Well then what do you mean I've...

". John trailed off as he noticed how clear-eyed and awake those around him seemed. It didn't seem possible, but apparently an entire day had passed while he worked on his formulas. "I'm sorry, Shane". He said a bit shakily. "I was working on something and must have forgotten".

Shane looked at him subspecialty. "Are you sure your ok, John? You look rather unnerved."To tell you the truth, I'm a bit tired. I think I'll go get some sleep."I think that's a good idea John. See you tomorrow though, right?" Shane said with an inquisitive raised brow. "Of course Shane.

Good, good night."Good night, John". With that, he climbed the stairs back up to his room and sat back at his desk in disbelief. How was it possible he had missed an entire day in study? The space-time theorem he had been working on for the past six months was beginning to not only take up all his time, it was beginning to erode his sense of consciousness. John sat in his chair staring at his formulas for another hour or so lost in thought.

When he looked up again, the sun had set and night was quickly settling over the campus. Glancing at his watch, it read only 11: 30 a.m. "Well that can't be right". He muttered under his breath as he tapped it a few times. "Maybe the battery died". However, the hands were still moving in what seemed like perfect timing.

"Must have stopped while I was working". He thought. "I'll get a new battery in the morning". With that, he flipped off the light switch and crawled into bed. The night was not kind however.

Despite being up all day, he just wasn't tired. Or perhaps it was the fear of the dreams that kept him awake. Either way, it wasn't doing him any good to just lie there if he wasn't going to sleep. So he pulled himself out of bed again and went over to his desk to redefine his calculations. John loved his work, but that love was bittersweet, as he could not figure out what was wrong with his formula. Everything seemed to be right, yet it didn't add up properly.

Something was missing. He had to find what that was. Sometime later, there was a loud bang at his door. He jumped a bit and put down his papers.

Slowly he got up and shuffled to the door. With a yawn, he opened the door and saw Shane standing there. Fighting another yawn, he smiled weekly. "Morning Shane, what can I do for you?" Shane rushed past him into his office and looked around. "Where have you been, John? If your going to cancel our meetings and not show up for any of your classes you really must tell someone."What are you talking about Shane?

I haven't been anywhere". John said a bit annoyed. "You haven't? Then why has no one seen you in three days? I even came by twice to see if you were feeling well, but there was no one here". John looked over at Shane with a puzzled look.

"Is this your idea of a joke?" Shane moved over to John and grabbed him by the shoulders. "John, what's wrong with you? What have you been doing? Are you in some kind of trouble?"Shane, what are you talking about? I've only been in here for a few hours. Why do you insist on playing this-"A thought hit John as hard as any blow from one of his foster father's ever did.

He stood staring straight ahead, his mouth wide in awe. "That's it! That's it Shane!" John rushed around him and over to his desk rummaging through his papers at a frantic pace. "What's it, John? What are you talking about?" John through papers right and left as he searched. Finally finding whatever he was looking for he held it up and stared at it with the awe of someone who has just seen God.

"I've figured it out Shane. It makes such perfect sense now!" He gave a loud yip of glee as he ran by Shane out of the door and down the stairs. "What's it. John! What are you talking about?" Shane yelled as he chased after him.

Shane finally caught up with him in their lab. John was erasing equations off the board and copying new ones on to it from his paper. Out of breath, Shane collapsed into one of the chairs and watched in silence as he completed his work and stared at it with wonder. "Now can you tell me what it is your talking about?" Shane said through gasps of breath. John turned with pure elation on his face.

"This is it Shane! I can't believe I didn't see it earlier". Shane looked at the formula John had written on the board. It was a complex relationship between mass, time, and energy. "What, John. What!" Shane practically yelled at him.

"What is this formula missing Shane? Why is it that we can't calculate this and see if matter can actually be displaced through time?"Why, John? Well because in order to displace even a single atom, we would have to generate more energy then we " ve ever seen. That's why."Your thinking too four dimensionally, Shane! Think again. What is the most powerful force we know of?" Shane sat thinking for a second then answered matter of factually, "Gravity John.

It keeps entire galaxies in place."Gravity?" John said with disdain. "More powerful. I'm thinking of something so powerful that it can create galaxies, not just keep them in place. Something that creates religion, science, and art all at the same time.

Something that shows us things we couldn't possibly imagine and knows things we can't yet possibly understand". Shane through up his hands in defeat. "What, John? I give up."Thought, Shane. Thought. It is the power that makes all of this possible.

Makes our world be and our understanding real. Thought is more powerful then a thousand neutron stars". Shane looked at John in confusion. "Ok, so what are you saying?"I'm saying my dear college and friend that I believe I have become the first human to travel through time. Though I myself did not even know it."How?" Shane said with rampant speculation. "Words, words, words.

We both know words will never convince you my friend. I suggest an experiment. How long can you stay awake if I asked you to?" Shane shook his head in confusion. "I don't know, five or six hours probably."Great. Give me your watch". Shane looked down and with a sigh gave his watch over to John.

"Ok, I'm setting these watches so that they are exactly synchronized". John handed Shane's watch back to him. "See, they are the same". John said showing him both watches. "Ok John...

."Give me three hours Shane. Just three hours of quiet and then come over to me. However, you must not leave the room. This experiment must be completely controlled."John I don't know what this is going to prove". Shane said. "Trust me my friend.

You will see. Three hours, ok?" Shane sighed and nodded his head before going over to the corner with a magazine. John pushed a table over to the wall and started concentrating on his formula. Three hours later Shane looked up from his magazine.

John hadn't moved in almost two hours and he was a bit worried about him. Getting up he went over and put a hand on his shoulder. "John, you ok?" Looking up, John shook his head. "Such an odd feeling. Feels like I've only been there for a little while. Looking at his watch, he gave a small smile before handing it over to Shane.

Shane looked at it and shook his head. "This can't be right, you set it back."You " ve been here the entire time! You would have seen or heard me Shane!"This is too much, John. How is this possible? "I don't know, Shane.

All I know is that it is possible. Together maybe we can find out if it's useful!" John put his arm around Shane's shoulder and led a completely stunned and disbelieving friend outside. Eight months later the two men sat in a dusty basement. Copper tubing and various miscellaneous pieces of metal lie scattered around the room. In the corner was an odd contraption. It was nothing more then a school chair and desk surrounded with a metal casing.

Inside an electronic headset was hooked up to a small personal computer. "I think that about does it, Shane. What do you think?" a very heavily bearded John said. "I think that this has been one of the longest years of my life. In addition, that you are completely insane. But, our tests caned be wrong.

So, I'm willing to give it a try."Excellent my friend!" John said as he padded him on the shoulder. So, tomorrow morning we will see if we " ve made anything worthwhile. "I still have my doubts about its effectiveness. So far all we " ve proven is that we can get someone to miss time. The rest of our theories on actually moving any mass what so ever through time is completely theoretical."Gravity is a theory Shane!

Everything is only theoretical until it is proven. We are going to make history tomorrow Shane. Now let's get some sleep so we " re ready in the morning."John. Do you actually pretend to think we can wait until morning? Let's give it a shot now, and see what happens!"We have nothing but time Shane. Let's do it in the morning when were rested, ok?" John said as he headed for the stairs.

Shane gave a sigh and looked at the clock. "I guess it is kind of late, I'm going to clean up a little down here and then go to bed". Shane said has he picked up a broom. "Ok. See you in the morning". With that, John left and headed up for his bed.

When John left, Shane put down his broom and made his way over to their devise. He opened the side door and climbed into the first seat. The door closed as he booted up the computer and slipped the headpiece over his head. Their theory was that by bombarding the brain with a certain date and John's formula, and then the mind would take over and do the rest. He set the computer ahead seven days and activated the sequence. In his left eye the date flashed, in his right the formula.

At first very slowly, then it began to increase in pace. Soon the images where screaming through his mind. Then too fast to even see, relying completely on the subconscious, the combination of numbers issued faster and faster. He felt his heart beating quicker and quicker.

His head began to throb and his heart skipped several beats. Soon a rapid seizure gripped him, his heart froze and a searing pain caused his body to spasm. He tried to remove the headset, but his arms were frozen to his sides. He gasped for breath once, twice, and then fell from the chair. The process knocking the headset off his face and smashing into the computer. One shot.

His mother's scream. Another shot. His parent's bodies lying with blood spilling out of them on his living room floor. The man leaped out of their window and headed off into the night. Laughing triumphantly the whole way. The next morning John went to Shane's room to wake him.

When he discovered he was not there, he went down stairs and found the horrid scene. Shane lay in a small pile half way out of their machine. Blood spilled freely from his nose and formed a small pool in which his head lay. Several hours later, the police had removed the body and a doctor had informed him that Shane had gone into epileptic shock. His brain could not apparently handle the influx of images and had simply shut down. The police left with instructions that he was not to leave town, as they would have more questions for him.

Naturally they had wondered what they were doing down there. John had covered it the best he could. Being vague about research and throwing out mathematic formulas until they stopped asking him questions. After they left, John made the decision. If he could not stop the dreams, perhaps he could stop the catalyst to the dreams. Perhaps if he could stop his parent's death then his life would not have been one painful experience after another.

Perhaps things would have turned out differently. The fear of what happened to Shane crept up in his mind. But, he reminded himself that the coroner had said Shane was especially vulnerable to such things and that is why he had died. If their machine worked, then perhaps later he could go back and stop Shane's death. But, first he had to try it for his parents. Without thinking about the consequences again, John climbed into his machine.

He set his date, April 22, 1985. The headset flashed the date and then his formula. Again and again. Faster and faster. Soon the dates were a blur and his eyes stopped even looking for any rational figures.

He felt his body become light, almost like he was in zero gravity. The machine rocked violently back and forth and the computer screen went blank. John began to wonder if he would die here himself, when suddenly the shaking stopped. The computer screen flickered back on and the door on his side opened. He was still in the same house.

The basement had the look of heavy usage though. A disorganized cot sat in the corner and a small television rested on a stand showing The Cosby Show. A young man of perhaps seventeen years of age slept on the ground in a grungy T-shirt and jeans. Carefully John crept over to the television and flipped the channel.

He turned through a few shows, Family Ties, Murder, She Wrote, but no news station. On the ground he found a newspaper. John picked it up gently and read the date. April 21st, 1985. The Sunday paper from what was now yesterday. He smiled in triumph at his success.

The clock on the nightstand read 8: 35 p.m. He still had time to make the three-hour trip to his parent's house. Carefully John removed the keys form the young man's table and crept up stairs. He opened the door and started to head out into the kitchen that would lead him outside. Form the next room there was a woman's call. "Bill, is that you?" Terrified John did the only thing he thought he could.

Increasing the pitch in his voice, he answered back in a mumble. "Yea, Ma. Running to the store". There was a moment of silence and John almost broke for the door.

"Get me some cigarettes while your out". A rush of air exhaled form his mouth as he breathed again. "Ok". He called back and headed out the door. Outside he climbed into an over sized Dodge Ram and drove at a maddening pace towards his parents house to the North. Five hours and six speeding tickets later, John arrived at his childhood home.

He through on a ski mask in case his parents saw him. No reason for them to realize in twenty years they had seen their son somewhere before. Carefully he crept to the window that was always kept open and went inside to wait for his parent's murderer. An hour later, there was still no sign of him.

Just as John was beginning to wonder if this really was the right date when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Carefully John got up and moved over to the wall. He saw the gun first; the man was coming around the corner with his pistol drawn. With a great lunge John through himself at the man. They crashed into the wall with terrifying force. The two wrestled the gun around in each other's hands as they banged into a table and a vase fell crashing to the ground.

The crash startled his assailant and he loosened his hold on the gun. He squeezed the trigger and a shot rang out. The man gasped once and fell to the floor. The lights were thrown on and a scream startled him.

So much so, that on reflex he pulled the trigger. Another shot and another body fell to the ground. Horrified John looked and saw his parent's bodies lying at his feet. Blood rushed out of the wounds and their eyes stared up at him as they gasped again and again for one more breath. The gun fell out of his trembling hands as he collapsed to his knees sobbing over his mother's body. He stayed that way until a siren in the distance brought him back to the future.

John looked up and saw a young, five year old boy staring at him with an expression of pain and sorrow. "Don't dream John". He whispered. Then, with a great yell of pain, he leaped up and crashed through a window, yelling and sobbing off into the night. The causes of John Maynard parent's deaths are many. They include wonder, thought, speculation, and dreams..