Safe Haven ( 1St Draft )

Safe Haven ( 1st Draft )
Safe Haven (1st Draft) The infuriatingly endless forest blurred together in shades of murky greens
and muddy browns, my foot pressing steadily on the gas as I blew past my first official welcome to
my mother 's hometown. "Now Entering, Safe Haven," I scoffed, blowing my burgundy bangs from
my eyes. I grabbed the cryptic map that lead me back here after all these years, balled it up, and
threw it blindly over my shoulder. "Says who?" I asked the (silent/static) radio. I rolled my eyes at
the irony of it all. "What kind of Safe Haven would let a twelve year old face the world alone? Make
it so hard to find that she convinced herself she was as crazy as all former foster families said she
was? And decide that as soon as gave ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Surrounded by family, I sat in the middle of each portrait, my wild red hair coils unleashed, my red
cap perched precariously on top, my smile carefree and my brother Adrian 's arm slung playfully
over my shoulder. I envied myself in those photos. She was allowed in on the inside jokes. She
actually knew these redheaded caramel strangers that surrounded her. This was her family. I wasn 't.
I was a stranger. These were strangers. Even my own brother had to be pointed out to me. I used
these pictures to mark the passage of time watching as the family grew and changed around me. A
memento from our time together sat inside the fat envelope of letters that everyone wrote me. This
was my favorite part of my whole trip, reading everyone 's letters, it was like reliving everything
from the summer, the fact that I didn 't remember exciting and equally saddening, but nothing as bad
as my last visit. My last visit to Safe Haven the most memorable, I awoke in the car with a my usual
splitting headache, watery eyes, and a roaring in my ears. Blinking in confusion, the world as dim as
usual, but a weird silence filled the car. My eyes finally peeled open and I 'm all alone in the
smashed car, deserted in the middle of nowhere, the driver door wide open. I clicked on the light,
calling out for my mother as quietly as I could, thinking she went to pee or for help. I disregarded
my suspicions as I reached over to close the
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Caroline West: A Fictional Narrative
"5408 South Mozart. It's just over in the Gage Park area."
Caroline West had been abandoned three days after her birth, by some woman she didn't know, but
that would all change today. After months of investigating and digging through hospital documents
she had found the woman who was her mother: It had taken forever to sift through all the papers.
But that hadn't deterred her –– after all how many pregnant women could leave a hospital without a
child and not have it written down somewhere? Three to be precise, well at least on that Halloween
night there had only been three. One woman had given birth to a boy, so that excluded her
immediately. The second woman had been forced to give birth to her stillborn daughter and she was
alive so that ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
another followed soon after, although this time it connected with her left temple. "My fvcking
house...goddamn kids...." The words flew out of his mouth in no particular order, he wasn't even
talking in complete sentences as he pushed her down to ground. "I'll show you how to treat a man in
his house." Caroline tried to shake her head, hoping to clear some of the fog away and failing at it.
With her head pounding she made to sit up, but quickly found herself being picked up anyways.
Gasping for air she thrashed at him: he had his right hand tightly around her throat and the other one
balled up in a fist at his side.
Two more blows...or was it four? followed her brief strangulation. Two were to the head, one to the
chest and the final one hit her arm. She had noticed his control slipping on blow number two, he
wasn't even looking as his fist connected with her skin the last two times, instead he seemed to be
searching the room for something. Caroline groaned out in pain as she hit the bed, her head
connecting with the headboard didn't help the situation "Stay there." The red head gritted her teeth,
watching his form cross the room she quickly reached for something –– anything that she could

Susy's Hair In The Red Convertible By Louise Erdrich
A symbol used in the story, The Red Convertible by Louise Erdrich, is Susy's hair. In the beginning
of the story, the main characters and brothers, Lyman and Henry Junior, buy a red convertible and
go on a summer road trip (Erdrich 2). While on their trip, they pick up girl name Susy, and drive her
back to her home in Alaska. The brothers stay with Susy and her family for a while in a tent. The
night before the brothers left to head home, Susy entered their tent to reveal that she had very long
hair which she usually kept in buns around her ears, hiding its length. Then according to the narrator
Lyman, "Henry did something funny" (Erdrich 3). Henry said, "Jump on my shoulders" (Erdrich 3)
and proceeded to twirl around with Susy on his back. He then said, "I always wanted to have long
pretty hair" (Erdrich 3). Susy's hair is a symbol carelessness and freedom. The idiom "let your hair
down" means ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Henry is drafted to fight in the Vietnam war and returns a very different person. Lyman says, "When
he came home, though, Henry was very different, and I'll say this: the change was no good" (Erdrich
4). Henry becomes transfixed on the television set. At one point, Henry bites his lip so hard that
blood pours from his wound down his chin and he does nothing but continue to watch the television
(Erdrich 4). Lyman states that he wants to destroy the television set and walks over to it to maybe
turn it off or remove it from the house but he is intercepted by Henry, who shoves him into a wall
(Erdrich 4). The symbol of the television represents how outside influences have weakened the bond
the brothers shared. The dynamics between the brother has changes dramatically. The war, an
outside influence, has noticeably changed Henry. The television, another outside influence, is the
representation of how other factors, outside of his family, are changing his behavior and how his
family sees

The Is Burning Fury, Skin Prickling And Fur On His Tail...
Taemin is burning fury, skin prickling and fur on his tail bristling.
Titron was a planet where as a whole, hybrid trafficking was thriving despite being illegal
throughout the majority of the star systems, especially this one in particular. He finally becomes
painfully aware of this fact as he continues to weave his way through the masses.
Taemin becomes blatantly aware.
Hybrids–– people–– on leashes with collars and bare torsos, male and female alike. Reptilian,
mammalian, he could see them all. Taemin's stomach roils, knots twisting over and over against in
his belly.
Did Chanyeol know? More importantly did the Confederation know this was happening? Surely if
they did they wouldn't let such illegal activities go on so... openly. ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
The chandeliers offer sufficient amounts of soft, glowing light.
There are plenty of patrons on the expansive floor, emanating a low hum of pleasant conversation as
they nurse drinks. A cursory sweep of his gaze around the room reveals a bar along the far east wall
that boast shelves upon shelves of alcoholic drinks. Towards the northern wall lies a large, raised
platform with a closed, heavy green velvet curtain and even from the entrance, Taemin can feel the
heat of the lights that shine down on the empty, cherry wood stage.
Someone bumps shoulders with him rather roughly and a scowl adorns his lips as the jostle. He
catches sight of long emerald locks and kohl rimmed eyes before the person is swallowed into the
crowd of people. The weight of that gaze sets a stone in Taemin's stomach and he can't quite fathom
why, but he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind the best he can, but fails to catch the way the
barrier clinging to his skin ripples before settling.
A rather tall man slips out from behind the heavy curtain and at his appearance, nearly every person
in the room turns to watch him expectantly. He's dressed in plain black slacks and a crisp button up
shirt, his bright red hair is swept up in an elegant coiff.
His face, however was obscured by a white mask the hooked around his ears and lower nape. His
black eyes were clearly visible, but where the mouth opening should be is smooth, painted over to
look like a wide, black smile.

Taemin

Piscar Alternate Ending
The moon looked over a large, wooden house. It was one of the nicer houses in Piscar with a
cobblestone path leading to the front gate and a enchanting garden off to the side. A stable was to
the left of the house holding horses and cows. A small lamb nestled into her mother's warm, snow
white coat. The house was two stories and built of wood. A set of wooden rocking chairs sat on the
porch with a few stairs leading up to it from the path. A three foot gate circled the small bit of land.
A few fallen leaves could be heard rolling along the road, dancing in the gentle wind. Through the
small window on the door, a woman prepared to leave. "Ok I think that is everything" the woman
muttered to herself. She had honey colored hair with dull violet ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
I am done sitting in a mess of papers that the government claims to need for stupid crap," Terra said.
"Sadly father will not be back until after the Harvest Festival and the old bat is doubtfully going to
be back until the day before he returns," Shisa groaned. "No matter we took care of it last year I am
sure we can do the same this year," Nisela said, trying to stay positive. Shia laughed, "Yes as long as
that stupid king keeps his ever growing list of pointless laws to a minimum. I swear. Every other
thing that comes out of that capital is a new ridiculous law," "Don't let the officials hear you say
that. They would be pant pissing furious," Terra laughed. "And don't let them hear you speak like
that. They'll you've been turned into a demon follower by me," laughed Shisa. "God you two make
the worst situation seem like a minor mosquito bite," Nisela rolled her eyes. "They are mosquitos.
Small, insignificant, annoying, insect that bite you for no good reason and leave you dealing with a
rather itchy and slightly troublesome bie," Terra laughed at Shisa's comparison. "The sun is rising
we need to leave soon," Terra said. Her sisters nodded and continued to get ready to

Graduation Speech
The Bentley pulled up outside of the school and garnered quite a bit of attention as you and Jennifer
stepped out. Most of the school was watching as two extremely pale kids walked through the school.
You separated from Jennifer as she had found her classroom. You then went and found your own
classroom. The teacher in your homeroom instantly recognized as Miss Kazate, head of science. She
kept you at the front and waited for the rest of the class to arrive.
"OK everyone, today we have a new student joining us today. His name is Kyle. Kyle can you go
and sit behind Kaza." she introduces you then points to the seat behind a boy with crimson red hair.
The class kept their eyes transfixed on you until you sat down and then there attention drifted back
to the teacher. You keep looking around and feel out with your consciousness and check for mutants.
You didn 't have to go very far as you found a vampiric presence heading towards your homeroom.
It wasn't strong enough to be Jennifer 's so you quickly pulled in your consciousness in order to
remain hidden.
A girl walked in. Her hair was a deep black and reached down to her waist. Her eyes were crystal
blue, much like non pureblood vampires eyes when they are younger. Her complexion was almost
as pale as yours and her skin was flawless. Most people would say she 's ill, but you knew the true
reason for her colour. She 's the vampire you felt. She moved with elegance and grace of most
vampires to the empty seat beside you. She sat

A Short Story : A Story Of A Story
"Give it back!" I shout at Ashley Ashton with her perfect skintone and out–of–a–photoshoot–hair I
wish I had bright and gleaming. "It isn't yours!" Her sharkish smile brightened. "What, we can't
have some fun Lizzie?" She tosses the diary she was holding to Ashley Blakise her second in
command. A game of keep away ensued with myself and the 6 Ashleys. Ashley A. calls to her group
girls scatter!" Over her shoulder when they're running Ashley A. turns and says "You can have it
back when we're done, she pauses to turn around look at me. She smiles sarcastically flipping her
hair over her shoulder as she goes. Once I'm sure there's no one near me and mutter under my breath
"This is going to be just great." I start walking home, it's going to be a long weekend before I will be
able to talk to anyone about this and I sure hope nothing happens before then. "Jenna," I say
frantically, "did you get the email?" She slowly clears her throat I can hear the frown in her voice,
"You really wrote that? she says. I feel my cheeks redden. "I didn't think anyone was going to read
it." I say defensively. I can hear her eyes roll in her head. "And what stupid thing caused you to
bring it to school?" "What! You didn't think that I wrote on my way home or at lunch or when you
don't see me in the day, which is like every day because you have no classes with me whatsoever." I
clear my throat. I hear her smiling at the ground, embarrassed, "I guess it didn't seem like anything
was going to happen all, but the damage is done. The whole 7th grade is going to know what you
wrote. I hope Quinn won't stop being friends with us over this. He probably saw the whole thing
already because of the stupid wretched witch Ashley––" I cut Jenna off "Hey! She may be rude and
mean and annoying, but, that doesn't mean you should be rude and mean and annoying back. She is
Quinn's sister after all." "You're right." Jenna says "But still. A thing like that to do..." she says. I
hear the familiar buzzing of my phone, more people are texting me. My door slams open and the
twins rush in Betty pretends to be opening a scroll, Prim clears her throat and says "By Royal
declaration you Lizzie Potter is wanted for dinner." Betty cut her off quite

The Sea Of The Cave
The lush green slopes of the kelp beds had long since faded away, an ash and charcoal sand taking
its place, dotted here and there by dark and gnarled husks of those who had ventured through before,
and the innocent looking gray vines that had ensnared them. Swaying slightly in the current these
vines looked as dead as the rest of the landscape, calm and deceptively innocent. Suddenly, the sea
bed changes, a glassy surface of polished stones slope down towards a deep dark hole dominating
the murky darkness ahead. In the center of this dark hole a shimmering light is barely visible. A
sirens' call to lure you in. It is the sea witches' lair and once you have seen the light you are caught
just as surely as if you got too close to the ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Um, I.. I... was just going over the river and through the wood to grandmas.
I think that's a different story honey. But, you are here for something yes? You can nod your head
how great for you. Well, the cost depends on what you ask for, but know that my prices, well baby,
they're steep. You look confused, do you want to know why are they so steep? Another head nod,
really? Okay, well do you want the truth or the lie that matches the idea you have in your head of me
as a cruel and evil monster? You know what never mind, one truth bomb coming up. Not that you're
going to believe me, but the truth is, the higher the price the more it deters people from making
stupid decisions they will regret. It's my last–ditch effort to make them really consider what they are
asking and what they are willing to give up for it. Now before you let your thoughts of me as a
monster with no compassion run rampant. Before you let what the world has told you of me cloud
the reality that stands before you, let me let you in on a little secret sweetie, your view of the world
and who and what is in it is very limited. You can only think inside the tight little bubble of what
you've been told, and you're going to die never having lived as long as you keep looking at the
world through yourself. Open up kiddo, let the world show you what it is instead of trying to
manhandle it into being what you think it should be. Trust me, that doesn't work out well in the end.
Aaaand

A Short Story : A Story?
"So are we still doing this tomorrow ot sunrise"?Garnet whispered over my shoulder."Yes, now stop
bothering me about it."I said as she roughly shoved Garnet towards the Town square. We are
orphans and thieves and we pick pockets. They call us scum, rubbish, and menaces to society but
this is what we have to do to survive. We make our way through the crowd grabbing watches,
money, and anything we think is worth something. When we get to the fountain in the middle of the
square I scan the crowd for a familiar patch of red hair. Her red locks shine as Jane makes threads
her way through the morning crowd. "Why di–" I start as she grabs my wrist with an iron grip and
yanks me to the alleyway between the supply store and the inn. "Shhh!" she whisper yells as she
spits in my face. She drags me into one of our secret passages and turns to face me. I gaze back the
way we came as a dozen guards trotted past and Garnet slips into the alleyway opposite of us.
"You're welcome!"Jane hisses at me. I grunt back at her as I scratch the scar on my wrist. The scar
was given to me by an officer. It was supposed to remind me never to steal but it only ever reminds
me never to get caught. "How much did you get today?" jane questioned looking at my pockets.
"Not much".I say but she's known me too long and she knows i'm lying. I sigh and roll my
eyes."Enough! Okay, I got enough.Geez." I say as she looks me up and down. "Good" she says as
she turns to head down the tunnel. I follow her down to the

Short Story : My Grandma Matley
My Grandma Matley is a big part of my life. She has been there through all of it with me. This was
the biggest thing she has ever done for me. When my parents got a divorce, I shut myself in a shell
that I would not leave. I would not smile, I could not sleep well, and I would cry all the time.
Through all of it my grandma was just there giving me hugs and kisses and taking care of me after
school. She would make me hot chocolate to try to get me to smile and let me sit in her bed in her
arms and let me watch as much t.v as long as I wanted and she would just stay there as long as I
needed. One day after school at my grandma's pale blue and pretty neat house. My grandma has
always been very good at telling when people are upset and I knew that she knew. Once I was done
with my homework my grandma came up to me and she asked me,'' Sweetheart do you want to
talk?'' I slowly turned my head to her and gulped very quietly,''yes.'' In my head I knew what was
about to happen. I knew she was going to take me to her bedroom and want to talk to me. ''Okay,
Then let's go talk on my bed,'' grandma insisted, waving her hand in a come here motion, ''just
us.''she said walking toward the room. I just followed her into the room and saw her waiting for me
and patting the blanket and saying,''Come here sweetie, it will be just us talking.''she calmly
smoothed the blanket on the bed. I just stood there staring at her and in my head I was thinking

Short Story : Chapter 1
said, 'The grass supplies the cows and the cows supply the man.'" "Was that the onliest one?" Clay
asked.
"No, there was lots of 'em." James answered.
"Tell 'bout another one." Ben begged.
"Some Indian boys threw rocks starting a stampede. A couple of gauchos took care of 'em." James
said.
"Did they kill 'em?" Clay asked.
"Don't know, didn't ask, they didn't say." James stated as a matter of fact. "We didn't have stampedes
on every ride. One blurs into the other." He replied.
Clay groaned. "I wanted to hear more."
"Not tonight. I'll tell you 'bout the fires next time." James headed to the thickets to relieve himself
with all three sons trailing behind him like ducklings at a pond.
Chapter
After recording the ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Hinton, an amiable tobacco planter in Virginia, inspected the mill infrequently and trusted him to
make an honest trade. There was no way to forecast when loggers would arrive, depending on the
weather and the wind and water currents so Matthew remained available year–round. He was tall,
burley with bushy, red hair, and freckles that almost connected into a solidly tan face. People never
forgot him because his freckles were such an assortment of colors, red, brown, tan, beige, pink,
auburn, rust, black, and orange. He entertained visitors with stories of animals and men fighting
themselves and each other along with spine–tingling stories about ghosts and Indians that
intimidated the settlers. If they were true, it did not matter.
He encountered trappers, settlers, missionaries, pioneers, mountain men, lumberjacks and timber
growers, farmers and their families who passed on any news since their last visit to the mill. He
could judge what kind of men they were. The sneaks and cheats who ran away from their
responsibilities, going to reinvent themselves in new places, maybe with new names. The mountain
men who did not cotton to living in society, preferring the silence of the wilderness. The family men
were willing to work for their future and risk hostile territory to make it happen. He repaired a spoke
or mended a harness, to earn extra accepting whatever they could pay. He had collected several tools
over the years. Families left their possessions with him for

Descriptive Essay
Calliope sat straight up in a cold sweat her shoulder length hair cling to her head, she panted eyes
wide in panic. Her hands clasped over her mouth stifling a scream. Calming down from her
momentary hysteria and with a deep breath she examine her surrounding pristine blue above her,
deep green grass a long with some wild flowers swayed around her. Standing up on wobbly legs she
tried to remember where she was but, her mind drawing a blank on anything beyond her name.
Walking down a small slope she saw clear body of water. "That me!" She shouted at her refection;
in the water was a slender girl looking somewhere between thirteen and fourteen dressed in an
embarrassingly frilly white gown stared back. Calliope prodded herself careful the ... Show more
content on Helpwriting.net ...
"I'm Katsi." She gave a small smile holding out her hand. "Calliope." She took Katsi's hand,
fallowing her instinct her memory still beyond her reach. "Aww such cute name, your definitely
M.C.M." Katsi looked at her with a sisterly shake. "Umm M.C.M." Calliope asked worried. "Main
character material." Katsi laughed, pulling Calliope along to a polished stone path. "So I'm guessing
you're here by luck." She asked talking as if Calliope was her best friend. "Luck?" Calliope asked
confused, but was to nervous explain that in here mind she just started existing. "Yup your luck."
The red head giggled as she was pulled Calliope through golden gates that had something engraved
in it that she couldn't read. "What do you mean?" Katsi stop hearing Calliope's panicked voice. The
grip on Calliope's hand changed she look up, Katsi's gaze changed to something more protective.
The taller girl pulled her along "The three Ls that separate the schools more than the schools
themselves." Her voice was a whisper snapping her fingers to get Calliope's attention "Legacy." She
pointed to a small group of giggling girls in pastel grown, Calliope stared at the group thinking how
artificial they look in contrast Katsi "Labor, which is what I am." She turn to Calliope and patted the
shoulder "And luck." Calliope smiled up at her new found friend, her eyes growing wide at the end
of the straight path. It building dwarfing trees and as white as an egg towered

Analysis Of ' John Darling I Love You
"John darling I love you, when are you going to marry me?"
"You know I 'm already married."
"Oh hush." She pouted her faded ruby lips on the rim of a martini glass. They lounged on barstools,
leaning against the polished wood and nursing their drinks in relative silence. Billie Holiday 's "Don
't Explain" drifted through the hazy smoke of the speakeasy, dipping around to caress each sorrowed
soul. "You 'll break a girl 's heart that way."
"Marion–"
"Don 't. Let 's just be here." She shifted her crossed legs, smoothing down the red skirt self–
consciously. Finishing the dirty martini, Marion smiled brightly to the bartender for another. Then
she turned that smile on John. "Darling. What 's the band 's name again?"
He looked at his watch and then pulled his sleeve back down with a tug. "Something clever I 'm
sure. They should be starting soon." He spun the short glass of bourbon between his fingers. Patrons
swayed to soft languid piano music, everyone nestled with someone. Couples were leaving the bar
to have their dance on the floor, he thought of asking Marion. She hated to dance but would be over
the moon at the invitation, and would dance just to spite him. He smiled at the thought.
"I don 't hate her." Marion put her polished fingers over his hand.
"What?" his smile faded and he adjusted his glass needlessly.
"She 's a wonderful girl." Leaning forward and lowering coal lashes, her lips played with a smile.
"But that 's just what she is."
"I love her, Marion."

Persuasive Essay
I look at my pale short legs thinking 'I need to shave.' I sigh realizing that summer isn't close to
being over and I have nothing to look forward to. I grab my phone and head towards the kitchen
searching for something to eat. I see my mom preparing dinner "Hi mom"
"Hi sweetie, what are you doing?"
"I don't know, I need something to do this summer." I sigh.
"Why don't you go volunteering, all your friends are." My mom suggested.
"Where would I volunteer at?" I questioned. "I'm allergic to cats so I can't go to the humane society,
I don't like gardening or cleaning, and I don't like children." I exclaimed.
"Why don't you help out at Sweet Waters Nursing home?" My older sister chimed in.
"Yeah, all the older people down there get so ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I got the key from my pocket and unlocked my bright purple bike. I felt the Summer breeze flow
through my long brown curls. As I put my bike back in the shed and walked in the house I could
smell tater tot casserole cooking.
"Hi honey, how did it go? Did you get any times for volunteering? When do you start?" My mom
bombarded me with questions.
"I start tomorrow from 9–11 every morning." I responded while digging for my fork and sitting in
my specific seat at the dinner table. We all silently ate our food. When we finished I put my plate in
the sink and headed upstairs for bed. I groan as I sit up from my soft cloud–like bed and turn off the
alarm. 8:30 the time shows while I rub my eyes, I get up and stretch dragging my feet to the closet.
While lazily picking out clothes for the day and getting ready. I trip down the stairs and put my
shoes on. I see my dad at the table scrolling through his computer.
"Bye dad I'm off to the Nursing home."
"Have fun Kirstin." He says. I grab my bike and hope on. I feel the morning dew on my skin, I wave
to the friendly mailman in his uniform that looks so uncomfortable. As I get close I can see the
green and yellow sign that says 'Sweetwater Nursing Home' I smiled at the sight. I lock my bike to
the tree and slide the key in my light wash jean pockets while heading inside. I see the same lady
with the sparkling blue eyes a red hair, her name tag says Nicole.
"Hello, are you here for the

Red Hair-Personal Narrative
"The same as Zack, dark brown," Ben replied, looking in the direction of the file in Bobby's hands.
"Let me get back to the station quick," Bobby half said to himself and half to them.
"What are you going to do?" Stacy asked, rising to her feet with a questioning look on her face.
"I'm going to get a warrant to exhume Ryan's body. The body in this picture has red hair. Bright red
hair. Unless he dyed it the night before, this is not Ryan Dawson," Bobby said. Without a goodbye,
he turned and hurried out the door.
Stacy and Zoe stood frozen looking at the double doors as Bobby closed them. Zoe was the first to
recover. She turned to Patrick and asked, "Are you telling me that Ryan was not in that fire?"
"That is exactly what I'm saying, Mrs. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
When his desk phone rang, he jumped a few inches off his chair and looked at the caller ID. Zack's
cell.
"Have you gotten into the city limits?" Ben asked without a greeting.
"Yeah, just passed the sign and heading to the station," Zack said over the road noise.
"I'm on my way," Ben advised as he saved the document he was working on and locked his
computer. Ben gathered his keys and made his way to the garage to take Zack's car. The trek was
made with apprehension. The dread crept up into his thoughts like a mist. He brought his hand up to
his throat and loosened his tie when it suddenly felt like he was choking on it.
When he finally pulled into the parking lot and parked, he just caught sight of Zack and Tina
disappearing into the front door. He reluctantly got out and walked into the station. He was directed
to Det. Wyatt's office where Zack and Tina were already sitting.
"Close the door, please," Bobby requested and Ben complied. Josh took a chair from in front of his
desk for Ben to sit. "Ben, you still haven't talked to

As the morning quickly approached, basking the lands within the gentle caress of warmth from the
kiss of light that painted the sky various shades – the female couldn't help but resent the sun for the
first time in her life. The awkward angle had drawn forth a slight crick at the base of her neck,
making any form of movement sluggish and slightly painful. If the angle alone did not cause her
resentment, it was the lack of a decent nights sleep. It was rare that she even stayed up past the
sunset, the cool air often forcing her to retire early an attempt to pass the time by. For the first time
in her life, she had pushed past her exhaustion and pain, choosing to stay up with someone who...
Snapping from her thoughts, the female had found herself drifting off to sleep, dark eyelashes
brushing against her cheeks as her eyes began to close – shutting the outside world away. Would it
hurt if she fell back asleep...? The innocent thought had quickly passed and before she could doze
back off, the child beside her seemed to stir, a whimper escaping her sleeping lips. It was almost like
a whisper, so quiet that even the redhead had issues hearing it. But it was there, startling her for just
a moment into a suddenly awakened haze. Had Kohana, this innocent child, been suffering from a
night terror? Or was it the fleeting attempt to get back what was stolen from the light? None the less,
the female had turned towards the child, watching as her eyes began to sparkle, her tone no

Shakespeare's Macbeth: A Narrative Fiction
The sky became a lilac purple as the sun dimmed and fell behind the horizon. It looked like magic,
the purple sky was such a rare thing; it probably was magic. At least that was what Elizabeth
thought, science never appealed to her, she loved fiction and she loved the thought of another world
where magic existed. She knew there was a scientific reason for its pastel purple hue but she really
didn't care about that explanation.
Elizabeth's long white–dyed hair fell over her face as she looked down to the green field beneath her
as if there was a void of nothing under her feet as she walked. "Snowy? What's with the mask?
Robbing a bank?" Another female from behind said and a laugh trailed after her words. Elizabeth
took off her red mask to look at the female, it was Ally, ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I do no such thing," He laughed benevolently, whilst laughing he then he leaned forward and
whispered to Elizabeth, "How'd you know?"
She chuckled slightly, "So your just a flirt?"
"Not just a flirt, I am more than that, I can be kind but most of the time, but with my friends I'm
super sarcastic and I make the best jokes using puns." He grinned widely.
They sat there for a few minutes talking about themselves and laughing at Matthew's 'puny' jokes,
until the sound of police sirens brought their laughter to a halt. Matthew shot up as it stopped near
the house. "Come on Ellie, you don't deserve to get in trouble for stupid Zoey's actions..." He
grabbed Ellie's hand to help her up from the cold grass. He bent over near the fence to give her a
hand so she could climb over.
"Don't look up my dress," Elizabeth hissed then quickly put one foot on his hand, then climbed over.
Seconds later Matthew was over the fence, they were in someone else's backyard.
"I told Zoey not to let her old friends come, they're underage drinkers, I did not want her getting in
trouble, but she

Life Of A Woman 's Body
"Seventeen years I 've lived in this house. Now I 'm finally escaping." The girl who whispered this
wistful thought into the dark night was no more than seventeen years old, maybe by a month or two,
but no more than a child in a woman 's body. On her lanky frame was a backpack, weighted with
belongings, and if it weren't for the hidden muscles keeping her upright, she would have been pulled
to the ground by its weight. By her feet was yet another bag, a duffle, and it, in addition to the
backpack, held the rest of her belongings. If anyone passed her on the street they might have
thought she was going on a trip, or had just arrived from one, for no one in the town knew the
business of her family. They would be wrong with either assumption. She was running away.
She had a bus ticket in her hand, and her destination was far away. She would not be missed, of that
she was certain. With four other children in the house she was often overlooked. The other children
were younger and the product of her mother 's marriage. Her father was some John. She was the
illegitimate freak. Second born, and out of wedlock, her mother and her husband never even tried to
pass her off as their own. In a family of blondes, she was the only red head. She was not ginger; her
hair was red, with a capital red. She had never dyed it, in fact she loved her hair color, but it set her
apart. She must have received it from her dad 's side. She would not miss home. She could barely
consider it home

Vivian felt herself jump as the man's voice boomed behind her calling out her name. She didn't dare
to turn him, even going as far to pretend she had not heard him right away but she could hear him
feet pressing against the steps as he hurried up the stairs to confront her for her boredom. This was
unexpected to say the least, she thought she might get away with slipping away but all she managed
was a few more steps before his hand caught her shoulder forcing her to at last face her new lord.
The woman was brazen with her gaze she turned to face him, there was an stern look on her face as
she peered back at the man. He most certainly towered over her and she had to tilt her head to peer
directly at him. She could not falter now, she would have to make it clear how she expected to be
treated but of course the man had his own idea about how he should be treated. The young woman
stood straight, his stern tone did not make her flinch with fear as he began his lecture. Nothing he
asked for was unreasonable, he just required the same respect she had given his grandfather but that
was the problem, he wasn't his grandfather. He was Marcus the sea Captain who had never came to
visit, who his grandfather spoke of with pride leaving her envious that she could not have the same
heritage. He could see the frown tugging at the corner of her lips, her stern look becoming one of
annoyance as he suggested she had Bewitched her master, this was no the case for she had been a
perfect pet

Hadlei Smith Biography
Red Hair Innocence
Hadlei Smith was a gorgeous teenage girl, with bright red hair. She was five foot, six inches tall, and
had a frail stature. Hadlei lived with her parents, and was an only child. She was more of the art
type, rather than math or science. As she would always act kindly, she was known for her thoughtful
personality. Unlike some red–haired people, Hadlei loved her red hair, and wouldn't change it for
anything. She lived in Houston, Texas, her whole life, which in her opinion, was the best place to
live in the entire world. She went to school at Stratford High School, and was halfway done with her
ninth grade year. For all the things there are a teenager could love, Hadlei loved History. In fact, she
was so passionate about history, that ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Before Hadlei went to the basketball game, her parents reminded her they would be gone at the
movies that night. They also asked her if she would go to Wal–Mart to get some a few groceries
before heading to work concessions. While driving, she noticed a car had been following her for
over five minutes. She decided it was probably nothing, and didn't pay much mind to the car behind
her for the rest of the time it took her to get to Wal–Mart. When she arrive, she quickly ran through
Wal–Mart to get all of the groceries her parents needed her to get. While making conversation with a
kind check out lady, Hadlei noticed a rather peculiar looking man, standing by the exit, about 30 feet
from where she was standing. As she continued to consult with the cashier, she couldn't help to
notice how the strange man would not stop staring at her. While she bagged her groceries, she
looked to her right, and notice the man still continued to stare at her. By the time she had all the
groceries bagged, and started to head out to her car, she saw that the man was no longer standing by
the exit. She looked all around the store, yet could not see him

The Life Of Robert Scott Walks Into His English Class
Dripping water, from the rain outside, Robert Scott walks into his English class. Scott stood at a
staggering 6'3, easily much taller than some of his classmates. His skin is comparable to caramel, he
has beard which was scruffy, similar to the rest of the facial hair on his face. He stands there,
proudly wearing a stained, white American Eagle hat, with a pin on the left brim, which read
"Pleasant Lake Villa...one year". He's wearing a predominantly teal shirt with a tribal like design
going across the middle, and on the right side of the shirt it was a pocket, which looks like it was
there for design, since the silk like texture of the shirt wouldn't let the pocket hold anything heavy.
His khaki pants fell just short off his waist, but ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Thanks" the girl says before quickly returning to the conversations she was having with some
students that sit besides her. Scott plugs in his headphones, opened up his Spotify and clicks on his
playlist, "Professor is running late", and begins listening to the piano version of the song "L'un
part...L'uatreReste" by Fredric Botton. Before closing his phone, Scott decides to check every social
media app he has on his phone one more time. "15" Scott hears slightly under his music. He ignores
it and continued to focus on the twitter app he just opened up. His song ends, for a brief period of
time he hears how there is barely any conversation in the classroom he looked around the classroom
and realize that there a lot of students missing today, then looked up to the front of the room and
realized Professor Greene was still not here, a new song began to play. As "Merry Christmas Mr.
Lawrence" by Ryuichi Sakamoto begins to play in his headphones, he unplugs them to hear some of
the chatter from his classmates. "Omg its 2:31, 14 more minutes until we can go home!" the girl
who asked him about the rain, said with a lot of enthusiasm. "If he doesn't show up I'm not
complaining" one of the guys that sat beside her said with a slight chuckle in his voice. Scott
decided to take another look around the room, he realizes that half of the classroom is absent, and
the other half looks like they didn't want to be here. Scott raises his left eyebrow as he saw Professor
Greene walking

The Snow Queen Vasia Alternate Ending
"Tasha, Are we there yet?" Vasilia whinned for the thousandth time this past hour. "Het," "How
long?" She pestered on. "A few hours." We've been on the plane for an hour on our way back to
Novosibirsk, Russia where our mother is in a hospital with tuberculosis. Our Father sent us alone
and he's having our old caretaker escort us to our old house. I looked around the plane for the
millionth time and saw only three people. An elderly looking man, a young adult woman, and a girl
around my age, 15. She had long red hair and green eyes that stared out the window for the past two
and a half hours. A flight attendant pushed a small cart along the aisle with snacks and drinks.
"Tasha, can I have pretzels?" Vasilia ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
"Да спасибо(Yes, thank you)," I didn't dare tell her I was freezing cold. We were about one
kilometer away from the cottage and we weren't stopping, until Vasilia spotted another tall building
farther on. "'Tasha! There's a town over there!" She shouted happily prancing around like a deer in a
newfound stream. I smiled and my eyes scanned the horizon, dark, eerie clouds forming as we
continued on. A soft pitter across the snow caused us to whip around and face, golden eyes, hungry
for flesh. "Черт возьми!" Anaïs and I cursed at the same time, turning back around, grabbing
Vasilia, and running. I stumbled many times and fought off the urge to fall into the fluffy white
powder. Anaïs pulled Vasilia onto her back and she continued to run gracefully. Gracelessly, I fell to
the ground and lay there, unable to get up. From their position, Vasilia and Anaïs threw snowballs
and little pebbles. I saw the two staring down as my vision

The Worst Thing About The Cold Weather
There was this one kid back in the seventh grade who'd been one of the obnoxious and class
distorting students who liked to act foolish while the teacher had been teaching. He had sort of a
buzzed, red haired, haircut with a lot of freckles that always sort of labeled himself as a
troublemaker as it is. Not only that, but he always exclaimed how once he was in highschool, as a
freshman, he would be getting a tattoo across his right arm down to his hand. I don't really
remember what kind of tattoo it had been that he wanted, but I at least remember that it wasn't that
appealing and seemed to set off a badass aroma. It had been a chilly morning, around 20–30 degrees
fahrenheit, and we had been ordered in our athletics class to run over to the high school 's football
stadium to get ready to do the bleachers. The worst thing about the cold weather, is that they
provided sweats to everyone, but it was limited; to only the ones that make it out there fastest to
grab them first. So pretty much if you didn't get out there soon enough, you'd freeze, literally, since
everyone had a sleeveless shirt on that had been ripped on the sides that stretched down to the waste
from under the armpits and shorts that were above the knees and up to your upper thighs when you
sat down.
The bleachers were the WORST thing to be told to do, by the way. We had to sprint up the steps,
which was literally 50 steps up and down, having to sprint up 3 sections after going down three once
we'd made it to

Essay On Dragon's Throttle-Personal Narrative
"Won–Won is such a babe. I mean, did you see him eating breakfast this morning? Who knew cereal
could look that good?" "Aha." I could see that Parvati was getting tired of listening to my talk about
Ron, her chocolate–brown eyes rolling for the fifth time that morning. Normally I would berate her
for doing so, but I knew the reason she didn't want to listen to tales of mine and Ron's relationship. I
mean, I wasn't completely clueless–the girl was clearly jealous. I couldn't very well yell at her for it;
what kind of friend would I be if I did? It was no secret that she fancied Ron; all of the girls did,
really. Even Miss Know–it–all Granger did, running off and crying every time she saw us snogging.
Most nights since Ron had declared his love ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
What a prat he was, pulling faces whilst the rest of us were trying to learn. The boy ought to learn
how to show a teacher proper respect, especially my Head of House. I nodded as he mumbled an
apology of sorts, shifting my attention to the front once more so I could hear the rest of
McGonagall's instructions. A few rows ahead, Little Miss Teacher's Pet was doing the same. "Well,
then, I'll ask you to break up into pairs and go through the warm up exercises we've been doing
recently; only one of you had managed to correctly change your eyebrows, and I'm hoping to see
more this lesson," McGonagall continued. I scowled as she smiled at Hermione. Yep, definitely a
teacher's pet. "Then, and only then, you may begin the task. Off you go." Jumping out of my seat, I
ran over to where Ron and Harry sat before anyone else–particularly a know–it–all brunette–could
get to him. I knew that Parvati wouldn't mind; she could easily partner up with Fay or one of the
Puffs. Some of them, at least, weren't so bad. "Won–Won! Let's partner." "Good luck, mate," Harry
said, patting Ron's shoulder and going up the front to partner with

The City Of The Desert Kingdom
Once upon a time there was a little girl. Puella, they called her. Girl. She didn 't have a real name,
never did. Her name were only bitch, whore, and Demon Child and her number.
"Next up is Number 732. She is an eleven year old girl with no family from Niliues, Ebistlyes in the
Desert Kingdom." The people in the room gasped. It was hard to get a girl from Niliues, the 3rd
capital in the Desert Kingdom after Alexdrandrite and Lepard. It was established that the city was
agriculturally great and everyone from there was remarked as the most working peoples in all of the
"Inferior Lands," the lands that were considered lesser than the Snow Kingdom, which was here,
and the Born Lands, which –according to my late mother– was across the Latic ... Show more
It was too bright in the white and gold room of the Betting Manor. I couldn 't see his eyes from the
stage I was on. He wore a black and blue costume with barely any adornments and only a gossamer
cloak as an accessory.
Another man further back in the sitting crowd, held up a green flag with black edges. "370 Douces!"
he yelled.
It continued and stretched for what felt like hours, but I 've always been bad at judging time. They
're prices were stinging my heart and brain, as if they were acid. I tried to distance myself away
from the words, tried to act like they were betting on a magnificent painting or maybe a stuffed,
giant white tiger with stitched on antlers from the Black Deer that roamed the forests here. But I was
neither of those things. I was a girl, who was in a place, a world, that she didn 't know, being betted
on by men she wouldn 't like to know. I was a girl, just a girl, who got sold by her manic mom –who
was going with the new conformity– to this horrid host. I was a girl who was supposed to be
dreaming about the cute brothers that lived across the street. I was supposed to be going to my first
year of middle school. But no. I was here. Waiting for the willingest better to buy me. What a sad
world.
"1020!" the final man yelled with his white and gold flag up. No one countered. The man had
gloomy black hair and dark eyes,

A Note On The 's Return May
Thirty–Four
Boudreaux's return may have put an end to my binging– my gluttony – my self–indulgent Myles–
buffet I had feasted on for several days, but I still had not had my fill of him– he was an enigma; a
mystery that I had yet to unravel... The question was, did I really want to know the truth about him...
he too, had feasted. On one occasion, his teeth pierced my neck and for several minutes, I thought
he might drink every ounce of my blood before he stopped. When Boudreaux saw my neck, he
paled.
"What have you done!" he exclaimed in a low whisper.
"What do you mean, what have I done? You are not my husband and you do not own me. What I do
is none of your business. If I want to run through the streets naked, I will do so!"
I did not mean ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Moreover, his touch– I thought back to all the times I had encountered Myles... always at night–
always under the cover of darkness, except during the storm... was that even him? Was he real– of
course, he is real; what am I thinking– I have held his naked body against mine too many times to
question whether he is real or not. Besides, he was at the restaurant the night I was there with Louis
and Boudreaux. "It must have come upon me in my sleep," I blurted. "I had a delicious dream where
Myles Laveau ravished my body– I awoke during the night experiencing an orgasm."
"How many times did he drink from you?" asked Boudreaux, grabbing my wrist and bringing me
toward him as he stared into my eyes.
"Only the one time that I am aware of," I responded. My thoughts and eyes questioned him as to the
why of his question.
"Maybe you are safe for the time being" he responded, adding "A vampire must drink from you
three times before he turns you. After the third bite, there is no way to save you. You will become
like him– dead but not actually dead... you'll live in the shadows and only come out at night – If he–
Don't give me that look Désirée – you know I would never lie to you!"
What he was saying was incredulous... vampires– dead but undead people that lived off the blood of
others. Myles did not live off blood; he ate, he was

Creative Writing: Dr. Liveseys-Personal Narrative
As I bounced along in the saddle, holding onto Dogger as if my life depended on it, he pristinely sat
perched upon the saddle with ease as if we weren't galloping at lightning speed across the field. The
wind blew across my face as I pondered how to tell Dr. Liveseys all that had happened that night.
About midnight, while the moon was straight up above us, I could see the shadow of the other men
who had accompanied Dogger in his rescuing of me and my mother. I looked to my right and
recognized the shopkeeper Mr. Tressler; I gave him a friendly wave and he nodded in return. I
looked over to my left and was surprised to see a chestnut colored horse carrying the newest
inhabitant of our town, a man who had identified himself as Barry. I looked ... Show more content
on Helpwriting.net ...
I asked him what was wrong and he said that his horse had stepped on a thorn and he had to get it
out before we could go further. Barry jumped down off the horse and before I could say 'plum
pudding' he grabbed my hands and twisted them behind my back pulling me to the ground from the
horse. He grabbed his handkerchief and tied my hands with it. I looked into his piercing green eyes
that flashed with violence as he demanded the map. I told him that I would never give it to him. He
pulled out his knife and informed me about how he had really gotten his scar. ''The captain who
stayed at your inn is my father. He gave me this scar when I was eight years old because I didn't do
as I was told! So now anytime anyone else doesn't do as I tell them, they receive this scar!'' He
angrily pushed me to the ground. '' And you're not doing as I told you, are you?" he asked. He then
promptly demanded me to hand over the map, but I still refused, even though my heart felt like it
would beat out of my chest. He gave me the most hateful look I have ever seen on a human face as
he leaned close to me and whispered, ''If you wake up from what I'm about to do to you, make sure
you show them what happens when Mr. B gets angered.'' He smacked my head with his fist and as I
slowly slipped out of consciousness, I felt the cool blade of his knife pierce the top of my forehead
and as warm blood began to trickle down my face, I prayed for someone to save

Ranger Rick: A Narrative Fiction
It was 9:02 am and Ranger Rick was just waking up, he was supposed to be at work more than 3
hours ago. As the the sleepiness from the night wore off, he finally came to his senses and realized
that he was late for work. Ranger Rick was working hard to get promoted as the town's new sheriff.
Now that he was late to work for the 3rd time this month his chance of his dream job since his was a
youngster were surely left in the dust.
Alarmed, he jumped out of his old bed into hopped into his new cowboy boots, threw on his hat,
buttoned up his vest, and pinned on his shiny badge. After a few minutes of fumbling around to get
ready he stumbled out the door. His legs shock like an earthquake as Rick jumped up onto his horse
buckey ready to start ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
HIs head snapped and fell to the desk as he fell into a deep sleep. His dream was about sugar coated
cotton candy and fluffy circus peanuts, he was at the circus. There were elephants, and all types of
animals. Dancers hung from rings that were attached to the celing swaying the the music. Rick
couldnt place his finger on it, but he knew something important was missing.
Ricks eyes jerked open and his head shot up, jolting from the sudden movement. He can't believe he
fell asleep after such an eventful day! Rick needed to get to the bottom of this mystery, and fast. But
where to start....Well he had though he had heard voices in the mine so that could be a good starting
place. So off Ranger Rick went. The mines were far away, and only the miners every dared to step
foot near the entry. Throughout the last few months the miner population went down and Rick
questioned why that was. Rick started to head down the road to get his horse Buckey, when the wind
started to pick up profusely but as quickly as it had started it was gone. Rick soon discovered his
horse was no longer tied to the tree, and the only thing left was the rope. Now there were truly no
forms of life and the reality of that, for the first time today hit him. He was truly alone. More
determined than ever Rick continued on in order to save his "ghost

Oral Communication Reflection
Back on Tuesday, September 19, I (along with the rest of the class,) gave my first speech in Oral
Communication Class. It was our first speech assigned/presented in class, and its topic, Self
Introduction. Some people may find it challenging, but I see it as a very simple subject to talk about.
Who knows more about you than yourself? No one! So why do people find it so hard to talk about?
I had a funny feeling that the day the order of our speeches were assigned that I'd be the first person
to give their speech. Sure enough, I was the first person to give their speech. I'm genuinely glad that
I was first because I was able to "get it out of the way" and not have to stress on it. Giving a speech
in front of my peers is nowhere near as nerve racking or terrifying as I thought it would be, but upon
giving my speech, I would like to reflect on how I felt the day of my speech (in terms of confidence
levels,) some verbal and delivery skills which I used well/not as well, some improvements that
could of been put in place for my speech, and who in the class I believe gave the best speech among
us all. First off, how I felt on the day of our first speech. I'm not going to say that I was 100%
confident in myself and not nervous at all, because that's simply not true, but all in all I felt pretty
good and I wasn't really that nervous. Since I'm used to speaking in front of people, I wasn't nervous
about talking in front of my peers but forgetting what I'm talking about in my speech since I'm used
to memorizing and not just speaking out in front of people. The only thing I could think of which I
could do to make me less nervous than what I was on the day of my speech would be to go practice
more in front of people who aren't my friends. Otherwise, I believe I used my skill of performing in
theatre and transposed it into my speech so I wouldn't be nervous upon giving my speech. In
speaking of skills, the next topic I'd like to address is some skills which I used well/not so well.
Some verbal skills I believe I used well (in the content) would be connecting to the audience with
funny little examples of a side topic I was talking about. An example of this would be when I said as
red head, I could either be Peter Pan at

An Excerpt From 'Whoa': A Narrative Fiction
Minutes after the ambulance left, a hush crept through the saloon like a slow sewage leak. A rat ran
from the cantina's cramped bathroom and darted past the bar, its claws scratching across the heavily
scarred plank floor. The place had turned quiet as a graveyard on a windless night.
Medical personnel reported the injured man suffered from an ocular hemorrhage. His eye vessels
popped from acute hypertension caused by sudden fright. They couldn't detect signs of cuts from a
discharged shard. The blood on his palm had actually oozed from a gash on his hand. The rim of
steel along the barstool had a sharp edge.
Their explanation was that the man was drunk and panicked when he thought he saw his eye
bloodied in the mirror, the horrid legend inflicted ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Everyone in the cantina had returned to revelry and carousing. The bar hummed with hard–edged
and catchy tunes blasting out from the jukebox, blues numbers about hard drinking times and love
gained and lost.
Eve remained stunned. She tried to sort through the shock of who she was seated next to, a man
both cunning and genuine. He was edginess and bravado, sincerity and warmth. He scared her, an
oasis concealing a venomous Rio Grande rattlesnake.
The rest of the men bragged. They boasted about being lawyers, offices about two blocks to the
west, specialty criminal law. Suddenly, their look was not so much men on the prowl as professional
scavengers. They bragged about their legal conquests.
A big case had been spread across the front page of the local newspaper, the Aztlan Crier. No one in
town was unaware of the terrible doings of the defendant. The accused was loathed.
He had been indicted for verbally abusing then bludgeoning his wife to a bloody pulp of broken
bones and smeared gray matter. For the politico of significant means, the evidence was hard and
plentiful. He faced life in the infamous mid–twentieth century prison, Aztlan del Norte State
Maximum Security Penitentiary. The penitentiary had been built near the natural sandstone edifice
dubbed The Devil's Throne. It was a realm of insolent and psychically contorted beings, known for
extreme violence including beatings, rape, and

I Have Lost What Was Mine
I have lost what was mine. I am a prisoner here where once I was a prince. I am but a whisper in this
crowd of confusion. Terror has replaced joy. Hate has replaced love. I am only a thin container
holding in an unfamiliar darkness.
I pray to the one ray of light in my lonely place hidden amidst the vastness of the world. I plead with
it. "Save me!"
It never answers.
I plead with it. "Give me strength."
I know it can hear me. I know because it always abandons me. I can feel my container cracking as
the light leaves even now.
They are here. I hear their feet invading and I am helpless to defend the darkness. Their shadows
beat me to the ground. Their flickering lights whip my eyes. Their cruel voices burn my ears. I dig
my fingernails into ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
He stared back at her with hollow eyes, like an animal, unaware of danger.
"My father went to you when he was weak with fever. This," she gestured to him, "is how you
returned him to me."
"The fever is a terrible thing, your highness. It does things to men. We were lucky to maintain your
father's life."
"You call that life?" The princess pointed at her hollow eyed father again. Grabbing a knife from the
table she waved it at the men. "If I find that your so–called cure has done anything to my brother, I'll
have all of you burned alive!"
Spinning, her red hair flowing out behind her like a cape, the princess marched away. She had
decided it was time for her to visit the Room of Stones to seek guidance.
~
"The son?" The smoke hissed as it slithered along the floor.
"Worse than his father, my lord," a tall man answered. His black hair was oily and combed straight
down to his shoulders. His dark eyes peered into a frosty mirror.
"The daughter?" The voice came from within the mirror, as did the smoke. Ice spread across the
floor, grabbing the tall man by the ankles. He tried to step away but the ice brought him down. A
bone cracked. The cruel sound echoed and the voice laughed.
The ice crawled over the man. It sucked him down until he lay flat on the stone floor. It formed a
coffin over him. His breathing became shallow. The sweat on his forehead froze there, forming a
false crown. The smoke slithered unto the ice coffin. The ice moved away from the man's face

Theme Of Adolescents In Catcher In The Rye
Each adolescent faces their own struggles before reaching the stage of adulthood. In, The Catcher In
The Rye, a meaningful novel written by J.D Salinger, Salinger exploits the use of a protagonist,
Holden Caulfield, who is extremely difficult to understand, to relay an important message involving
adolescents. Salinger uses vague writing to portray Holden as someone who does not fit into
society's expectations. Furthermore, after the death of Holden's brother, Allie, Holden goes into a
downward spiral of depression and tries to venture into adulthood faster than he should have. The
first time the reader interacts with Holden is when he is at, Pencey, a private school in which he is
failing all of his classes, except English. As a result, Holden got kicked out of Pencey. To beat the
letter, that the school sent home, Holden left Pencey early and headed into New York City. From
there Holden spends his days in New York City reminiscing and interacting with some interesting
characters. Based on the novel one can say that Salinger's main message in The Catcher In The Rye
is to illustrate the struggle of identity crisis, which is a moment of time when a person's
individuality is lost, in adolescents. Salinger does this using Holden's sexual confusion and the use
of turning an everyday item into a piece of symbolic literature.
One of the issues Holden faces in the novel is sexual confusion. He first exhibits sexual confusion
when he was talking to his roommate, Stradlater, about

Pathophysiology Of Red Hair
On a daily basis I receive questions and comments like, "Is that natural?", "Where did you get that
beautiful red hair?", "You are lucky, you can't find that color in any bottle or box.", and "Please don't
ever die your hair!". Within my family of four I am the only one with (naturaly) red hair. I am not a
stereotype. I am covered in an abundance of freckles, however my skin is not pale. I am an almost
auburn– gold kind of red, not the typical fiery red. I have brown eyes, not green. I am a genetic
paradox. If you didn't know, and most people don't, it is quite hard to conceive a red headed child.
The red head gene, melanocortin–1 receptor (MC1R), which is found on chromosome 16, must be
found on both sides of the family. This is why we are

Personal Narrative: Red Hair
She had red hair. And she was young, and I think she was slender, probably fair skinned, but I am
not sure. All I remember is her red hair. It was not actually red, not like a fire extinguisher, but
softer, orangey with blonde tones. She had soft hands and a warm, quiet voice. She used to hold my
hand and brush the matted hair off of my forehead. She was gentle. I cannot remember her name. To
me, she has no name, she is simply the nurse with the red hair; the nurse who made an impact; the
nurse who I will strive to be. For the longest time, I thought that I was going to be a musician or an
artist. I had my whole life planned out and college was simply a backup plan. I was going to move
to a big city and live out my dream. I loved art, I

Control In Society In Aldous Huxley's The Brave New World
"Most human beings have an almost infinite capacity for taking things for granted," Aldous Huxley
wrote this in his novel, "The Brave New World." Huxley's novel shows and represents how society
is controlled in numerous ways causing change and impact to people. Several changes include the
alteration of the way some act and live on a day–to–day basis. Today in our society, people take
multiple things for granted just as Huxley stated in his novel. Those who are fortunate don't always
appreciate the assets they have such as, a family, money, and a home. Some tend to wish for more
rather than expressing gratitude for what they do have. On the other hand, many are unfortunately
living in poverty and famine. Much of the population is homeless and are surviving with extremely
little, but are still grateful for what they have available to them.
It was the last day of our summer vacation in Dallas, Texas. After a week of scorching heat and
sunburns, we were ready to head home. It was early in the morning and the sun was beginning to
stretch its arms getting ready for the day. Our suitcases were packed and we began to get ready for
the long trip back home to Michigan. We loaded the car filling every empty space in the trunk with
luggage. As we finished, we got into the car and drove to the lobby of the hotel to return the keys
from our rooms. All of us waited in the car besides my step father who went to check us out of the
hotel. The rest of us stayed in the car waiting and eating the continental breakfast from the hotel.
Once my family and I were all situated in the car as my dad began speaking. "I want to take you all
somewhere before we leave," he announced, looking into the rear–view mirror back at us. My
brother and I weren't acknowledging what he said and we continued the movie we were watching in
the car assuming that he was taking us to visit another relative or a restaurant.
After a few hours of driving, I began to get carsick and annoyed with being in the car with my
family for an extended period of time. Finally, the car began to slow down hinting that we were
close. I looked out my window and saw that the streets, we were passing, were lined with tents and
people. We slowed to a stop where a large

Red Brown Hair Styles Research
Highlights and color blocks are a sure way to refresh your hair color and transform your overall
look. Evidently, playing with different hues is all it takes to create some bold styles. Here are some
creative red brown hair styles that have taken 2017 by storm.
1.The Mahogany Hair
Where do I start with this hairstyle? The awesome combination of that red–brown color with the
long waves creates just the perfect contrast. This is the kind of style to go for if you want to always
feel like you've just stepped out of a salon. It's breathtaking to say the least.
2.Shiny Chocolate
Here's another dazzling style that's guaranteed to give your hair a bit of a fluffy look but with a
wonderful chocolatey color. There are no limits as to how you can get this done. You can for
instance have the long side sweeps curled or feathered outwards. Whichever way you ... Show more
With its sleeked back hair and neat layout, this look is incredibly functional yet it seems to have an
intimidating charm. While it gives you an opportunity to channel out your inner elegance, this style
gives you the looks of a sophisticated lady no matter how clumsy your day feels like.
11.The Easy–Going Barbie
This is yet another look that we can vouch for. Its curly nature gives off a relaxed vibe while the red
brown color gives you a confident and respectable look. Introducing some well thought–out curls at
the end infuses a sense of maturity to the otherwise cutesy look. Want to look like an easy–going
Barbie? Go ahead and try this simple style out. It's cute and classy at the same time.
12.The Wavy Girl
From parties to date nights, this red brown hair style is a win–win for all kinds of events. Add a bit
of color to your waves and create a dynamic look. Then let it cascade down your shoulder–back for
an exotic look that can take your sense of fashion to a whole new level.
13.The Vibrant Coral Highlights

Of Mice And Men: A Short Story
It was a dark and dreary day near the Small's ranch in California and Lennie knew that it was only a
matter of time before the tears from the sky coated the land. The ominous cluster of clouds moved
dauntingly slow across gloomy sky and the faint sunlight hidden by the clouds helped to cast an
eerie shadow across the land. The only sound to be heard throughout the ranch was the bell on
Chester, their dog, whenever he decided to move to a different place on the porch. It seemed almost
as if they sounds of every animal was silenced whenever they rumble of thunder rolled throughout
the hills or they flashes of lightening blanketed the skies. Lennie smiled to himself as he placed the
last piece of folded clothing away in a small trunk near ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
There was no time to brace for it and there was no chance for Lennie to see it coming. Maggie
watched as her friend flew off of the horse head first and onto the muddy grass. It felt a if for a split
second they world seemed to actually stop. She struggled to halt the movements of her horse and
once she did, she scrambled to climb off of it. She raced across the grass, stumbling along they way,
until she reached Lennie's unmoving body. She fell on knees, examining the damage and when she
took notice of the blood coming from his head she knew she would have to get help quick. When
Maggie informed Aunt Clara of the incident, she called an ambulance and rushed to her nephew's
aid. "Oh Lennie," she cried, hearing the sirens of the ambulance in the distance. She didn't dare
make a move to touch him, for she feared that she would just add on to the damage. A small crowd
formed around the paramedics as they secured Lennie's body onto the gurney and whisked him
away with Aunt Clara riding in the back along with them. George fought to push his way to the front
to see what all the commotion was about. "What happened?" he asked, turning to face Maggie who
was sniffling from the cold and recent crying. "Like you would care," she retorted, turning her head
when she heard her name being shouted by her

Colleen: A Narrative Fiction
"Why does everyone keep asking me that question?" Colleen asked as Nana walked across the
library and gave her a tight hug. She was really sick of her friends disappearing when there were
ghosts and critters about. Honestly, she was going to have gray hairs soon. "What is your blood
type?" Rachel asked when she noticed that Sam was getting impatient. "I don't know my blood type.
Does anyone know their blood type? Why does everyone keep asking me about my god damn blood
type?" Colleen looked around the group. "What did I miss now?" "Why don't you tell us what
happened up in the hallway?" Dean countered. Colleen rolled her eyes and tugged at her ponytail.
Explaining the altercation in the hallway was not going to go over well. Still, she really shouldn't be
keeping secrets from them. That was a good way for ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
"First, there is a ghost. Annoying, but a run of the mill ghost. Then we can't find the body because
there was another monster here fifteen years before. Only to find out, surprise, he is still kicking
around. And now, we possible have a warded house with a possible witch?" "Now that we have a
full recap, what do we do?" Nana asked. "Last time anyone saw Mr. Clarkson, which is a lot easier
to say than what he is, he was disappearing. If he is the invisible man now, how are we going to find
him?" "He's still looking for dinner, so to speak. We have to figure out who has B+ blood and make
sure he doesn't make off with them," Sam sighed as he tugged on his hair. "How hard can that be?"
The sarcasm was thick in the room. Nana drifted over to the laptop and looked at the police report.
Something caught her eye, and she clicked onto the next page. Rachel walked over too as Sam and
Dean started to bounce ideas off each other about how to identify people with the correct blood
type. Colleen sat in the chair, looking at the fire, trying to find something in the images that would
help

For Jeongguk, the crash came before even exchanging words. The lithe frame and raging hair as red
as poppies leaving his buzzed senses clipped. Burned to the very bottom of the wick while dazedly
staring. Bubbly giggles and too much cotton candy leaving the tongue sugary sweet and pillowy
plush catches his attention. "Hey." Jeongguk whispers when nudging Jimin, who's too busy talking
up Yoongi. They all stand idly in line and wait for their seats on the rollercoaster. A good six feet as
been achieved within thirty minutes, "D'you know that guy?" Then, Jeongguk gestures loosely
towards the boy's direction, who's leaning over a shivering cold metal railing to coo at confused
camels and goats. "Which one?" Jimin mutters back and draws a frustrated sigh out of Jeongguk.
Because who else? Jeongguk had faith Jimin would know his type for people who appear a little out
of the ordinary, but clearly, his best friend's too distracted by the other male next to them in knotted
mint armor. "Fire boy." Jeongguk glances to Jimin for only a second. A few snowflakes stuck on his
eyelashes before snapping back to the tan male from afar. A beacon amongst the purples and blues
of the late winter afternoon. Something special out of a cinematic film. "Ahh, Taehyung. I knew
you'd find him smoking." Jimin snickers and turns to Yoongi just then, "You hear that, Yoongs?
Jeongguk thinks Taehyung is smoking." Yoongi huffs a deep chuckle from the throat and sends a
wink towards the

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