How To Apply Story Theory To Analyze Breaking Bad?

Amelia Black is known as the "rebellious girl" , she was the kinda girl your parents told you not to hang out with. Also known as "Black Rose" the undefeated street fighter. Amelia's life revolves around pain and tragedy but she refuses to let it break her, instead it makes her stronger. It's time for a fresh start in a new town with new people. With her past catching up to her can Amelia keep her past all a secret or, will a certain Mafia boss unleash every secret Amelia has hidden? Vincenzo De Luca is the Don of the Italian mafia, his name is feared by many due to him being heartless, cruel, ruthless and not sparing a soul from his wrath. He has the looks, the money and has every girl panting and dropping for him but what happens when a certain Amelia black piques his interest?

I was nineteen the first time Cole Whitfield broke me. Not with cruelty. With a single word. Why. Not did you — why. Like the answer was already settled and he just wanted the story to make sense. I told him the truth anyway. He said nothing that mattered. So I picked up my bag, walked out of his apartment, and decided that a man who trusted a rumor over two years of me wasn’t worth a correction. I spent the next two years becoming someone I actually liked. New city. Graduate program. A published paper with my name on it. I was done with Cole Whitfield in every way a person can be done. Then I walked into Seminar Room 114 and he was sitting right there, gray eyes already on the door, like some part of him knew. I sat down. I opened my notebook. I did not look up. Here’s the thing about studying how people form beliefs: you understand exactly why he believed it. That doesn’t mean you forgive it. That doesn’t mean two years of silence disappear because he’s learned how to look at you like he’s sorry. He wants a conversation. I want my degree. But the campus is small, the seminar table is round, and the boy who broke my heart at nineteen is doing everything right at twenty-one — and I’m starting to understand that composed isn’t the same thing as healed. I hate that I still know the exact sound of his voice.

Peter Cooper lives in the town of Capistrano. After being dumped by girlfriend Amelia his friend James arranges a job at Trans-Port, bossed by the famous Professor William Carver. Carver’s assistant is an American woman called Claire. Peter is pressurised into being a guinea pig for the company’s teleportation experiments and gets sent to another reality ‘The Projection’. On returning he's told Trans-Port have mentally imprisoned him in Capistrano slnce ten. The programme is a wormhole to another reality and Peter is forced to go back there and bring home its creator, his brilliant scientist father John, so Trans-Port's teleportation system can work successfully. The Projection is only programmed for John and Peter’s DNA. Peter finds the alternate reality called ‘Guildford’ similar to Capistrano but landscape and identities have changed. He meets another ‘Claire’, now English. She helps him find his ‘parents’ who informed his doppelganger (Other Peter) is a successful scientist, married to Amelia and working for Kilgore Industries in ‘Cambridge’. They are also building a teleportation device. Realising 'his' John might have gone there, Peter follows. At Kilgore he finds another ‘James’, now ‘Other Peter’s’ Project Manager. He pretends to be his doppleganger's non-existent brother to find out about an 'accident' on the site. That night a dream shows ‘Other Peter’ involved in a metaphysical reaction to the accident. John asks Peter to help him find out more about it. They force Amelia to take them to ‘Other Peter’ at Kilgore. They find him trapped between two states of reality just like Peter’s dream. Peter forces John to return to Capistrano but Carver appears telling him neither realty actually exists. The accident killed Peter and he is now purely cyber intelligence. But is this true? Can Peter’s REAL life still be saved?

What happens when your life is just a lie? What happens when you finally find out that none of what you believe to be real is real? What if you met someone who made you question everything? And what happens when your life is nothing but a fiction carved by Mr. Fiction himself? "The truth is rarely pure and never simple." — Oscar Wilde. Disclaimer: this story touches on depression, losing someone, and facing reality instead of taking the easy way out. ( ( ( part of TBNB Series, this is the story of Clarabelle Summers's writers ))

I quit and dipped. City threw a parade. Only Jenna Blake—my oh-so-gifted junior who claimed she could "see through killers' eyes"—lost it. At her celebration banquet, she went full drama queen: "I owe everything to Kate Mercer. Please, bring her back!" I laughed. Cold. Not happening. Last time around, I was the hotshot detective. But every clue I found? She dropped it first like she read my mind. People started saying I was washed. So I went all in—three months, no sleep, cracked a massive trafficking ring. Led the raid myself. She beat me there. Again. Place was cleaned out. Boom. She's the city's golden girl. I'm the clown with no game. Pressure got ugly. My head snapped. I died chasing the last scumbag. Then—bam. I woke up. Same day. Raid morning. Round two.

I'm a half-baked forensic examiner whose only redeeming quality is the ability to understand animals. The crime scene is inside a lavish villa. The lady of the house lies dead on the floor with a blunt-force injury to the back of her head so deep that her bone is visible. The safe has been pried open, and a million dollars in cash has vanished without a trace. Clear shoe prints mark the backyard wall, evidence that someone has climbed over it. "This one's clear as day. This is a textbook robbery-homicide. The suspect is likely a young male, around six feet tall, has a prior theft record, and knows how to cover his tracks. Check the surveillance footage in the area and look into places where he might've moved the stolen cash." The director of the forensic science center, Egbert Woodward, has been in the profession for three decades and is a widely respected authority. The officers at the scene nod in unison and begin taking notes. I'm the only one who stares at the 30 flies circling the ceiling for a full 3 minutes before taking a step forward and piping up, "Dr. Woodward, this isn't a robbery-homicide. It's a crime of passion. The murderer is the victim's husband!"