The Story Of Genji

The Story Of Genji
Genji lit the candles as he set them up around the room. He discovered earlier that the power to the
building shut off once the tours were finished. He walked out onto the balcony as the moon hung
high up in the sky. The faint honking and shouting of the city filled the air as the wind whirled into
his bedroom. Slowly, he sat down on the ground as he crossed his legs. His left hand remained
expended as his right closed into his palm. His eyes fell closed as he took a deep breath, the whirl of
his vents filled his ears. He was used to it by now, it was his rhythm it allowed him to relax. Genji
called out to his dragon hoping to receive an answer this time. When he tried earlier he was
answered with complete silence. "Relax, Genji." The ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
He grabbed the device and jumped onto the bed. Clicking the call button he waited as the tower was
filled with the eerie silence. He remembered him and his brother running through the halls
screaming and laughing. "Hello?" Zenyatta said. Genji snapped himself out of his thoughts as he
looked at the omnic on the screen. "Hey, master." "You alright, Genji?" Genji fell silent as he
glanced around the room. "No, I'm not. I believe this was a mistake master." Genji stated as he
rubbed his hands together. The small sparks rushing through his arms and he reached up unclipping
the face plate. Setting it beside his leg, he leaned more into the headboard. "Explain it to me."
Zenyatta stated. Genji couldn't think of the words, and grabbed the device. Walking out into the
hallway, he pointed the camera to the sword allowing the monk to see it. "That is the blade my
brother used." Genji whispered. "You told me that he probably regretted the action, but that says
otherwise doesn't it." There was silence from the monk. "You told me that Hanzo never had a choice
once he became the head of the clan." "He didn't." "You believe it was him who put it up?" Zenyatta
questioned. Genji fell quiet as he moved back into the bedroom. "I can tell you are uneasy in the
temple. Is there something else going on?" "It's hard to be here." Genji admitted as his device
buzzed. He picked it up flicking away from the visual of his master. He
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Lemon Battery
1 2 1. "Sight Unseen" Written by Brandon Barnes (ASCAP), Joseph Principe (ASCAP),
Timothy McIlrath (ASCAP), Zach Blair (ASCAP). Published by Sony/ATV Tunes LLC / Do It To
Win Music (ASCAP). Produced by Bill Stevenson. Performed by Rise Against. Courtesy of Geffen
Records under license from Universal Music Enterprises. 2008 Geffen Records 2.
"THISKIDSNOTALRIGHT" Written by Aaron R. Bruno. Published by AWOLNATION Music
(BMI)/Red Bull Media House GmbH (AKM/AUME). Produced by Aaron R. Bruno. Performed by
AWOLNATION. Courtesy of Red Bull Records. 2013 Red Bull Records, Inc. 3. "Evil Friends"
Written by Portugal. The Man and Danger Mouse. Published by WB Music Corp. (ASCAP) and
Approaching Airballoons (ASCAP). All rights OBO itself and ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
Published by Neon Knights Inc. (BMI/SOCAN). Produced by Jesse Keeler and Al Puodziukas.
Performed by MSTRKRFT. Courtesy of Neon Knights Inc. 9. "Fallen" Written and Produced by
Jacob Plant. Published by Copyright Control. Performed by Jacob Plant. Courtesy of Three Six Zero
Group 10. "Villain" Written by Michael Render. Published by Aniyah's Music ASCAP/Royalty
Network. Produced by Zone Beats. Performed by Killer Mike. Courtesy of Grindtime Official
Records. 2013 Grindtime Official Records 11. "Refusal To Die" Written by Neil Quin, Carlin
Nicholson, Michael O'Brien, Robert Drake. Published by GalleryAC Music (SOCAN). Produced by
Zeus. Performed by Zeus. Courtesy of Arts & Crafts Productions. 2013 Arts & Crafts Productions
Inc. 12. "Another Soulmate" Written by Perry Farrell, Dave Navarro, Chris Chaney, Stephen
Perkins. Published by Universal/Rondor. Produced by Jane's Addiction and Michael Tuller.
Performed by Jane's Addiction. Courtesy of Hypersonic. 2013 Hypersonic 3 4 Album Produced
by RISHI SHAH Executive Album Producers: JASON LINN and KEVIN KERTES Album
Business Affairs: JAImIE ROBERTS, mIcHAEL HAFITz and DIRK HEBERT Album Clearances:
NEIL SHULmAN Art Direction: SANDEEP SRIRAm Mastered by: LOUIE TERAN at Marcussen
Mastering THANKS TO: Adrian Amodeo, Russell Arons, Pete Axelrad, Maria Belli, Ed Boon, Paul
Broucek, Rich Carle, Rocco Carrozza, Irene Chan, Céleigh Chapman, Andrew Cook, Rigo Cortes,
Jamal Dauda, Craig Degraff, Brett Fischer, Dan

A Short Story-The Story Of The Bull Run
Feet splash on the muddy ground through the worn fields of Bull Run.
Endless land covered in the blood of the Union and Confederate soldiers. The faint
smell of gunpowder still lingers in the air, and smoke covers the fields as if death
himself is horrified of the battle he had watched. As the clouds start to part the whole
scene becomes clear. A small clearing surrounded by trees and a hill littered with
burnt carriages, blankets, dresses, and baskets. Cannons and broken down artillery
are spread along with dismantled body's covering the ground. Barely leaving any
grass to poke through. A faint voice is heard echoing through the pity full land.
"CHARLIE... CHARLIE!" Every second the voice seems to be getting closer.
"Charlie... I found you." "Hey Pete... long time no see surprised you're not in
Washington by now." A sigh of relief comes from Peter "you idiot... you were
supposed to fall back" Pete begins to realize how bad Charlie's situation is "Good
God Charlie your leg it's... it's not there... what happened." Gasping for breath
Charlie seems to be losing his adrenaline and feeling the pain from his missing leg.
"Me and that greyback each got a good shot at each other" Pete starts to better
bandage Charlie's leg "Charlie your leg isn't bleeding... but how?" "After we took fire
some people I knew found me, they made a fire and sealed the arteries in my leg." "I
didn't really have a choice... the only reason I got through the pain was because of

this."

A Short Story : A Story?
My fists curled into a ball.The blood pooling in my hands as I squeezed my fingernails into my palm
made me whimper. I could feel the blood rushing to my face as it turned bright red. "Leave me
alone!" I screamed, my voice cracking as tears welled in my eyes. I spun around and grabbed the
door handle, jerking it open. "Rachel!" I heard her scream before I stormed out. That was the biggest
fight I had ever had with my mom. I stayed outside until 9 o'clock that night. I only slipped into the
house when I knew she would be fast asleep. I lept into bed, exhausted, and slept the whole night
through knowing I'd wake up to an empty house....
Rachel woke up that day, deciding to treat it like any other. The hot 90 degree Florida weather had
made the outside a little less appealing, but she didn't care. She grasped the strands of her long dark
hair, combing it with her fingers as she wrapped a light magenta ponytail holder around it. As she
stepped out the door the heat hit her like a kick in the gut. The sun beamed down on the hot earth,
melting away her energy. Despite the heat she walked down the long walkway, and into the
driveway, to open the garage door.
Dodging spiderwebs and dust, Rachel looked around the room for her bike. After she found it she
picked it up by the electric blue frame, and carried it out of the garage. Putting her hands on the
handlebars she felt the squishy, transparent, grip. She swung her leg around the bike, sitting on the
smooth, black, leather seat.

Motown Creative Writing
I pulled into the driveway and saw a soft glow of lights in the garage. I smelled the enticing aroma
of a wood fire in the stove and welcomed the warmth it offered. I was shocked and almost taken
aback when I opened the door. There was my husband standing tall and proud with a scotch in hand
for me to sip away my day, but just to the right of him hung what might have been the most
beautiful male I had ever seen. How beautiful he was, he was strong with a muscular structure I had
never laid eyes on before. His blonde hair seemed to glisten in the firelight and his eyes the color
miners would have cherished. He hung from the rafters by his ankles and his long body laid
stretched out as his head laid on the floor. I stood and admired his beautify and grace for what
seemed like hours until my husband handed me the knife and said, "we've got a long night ahead of
us, it's time to start." I quickly snatched plastic sheets and cardboard boxes and placed them under
his body. I changed out of my uniform into something that I could work in and easily launder blood
from. I picked up the knife and walked over to his body inspecting every beautiful line and curve of
it. As I sharped my blade ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I can clearly remember thinking how warm his flesh felt and how the moist heat revitalized my
arthritic hands. The tedious work was over and I asked my husband for the ax. It was now time to
remove that dapper face of his. I grabbed ahold of his head and twisted it until the tendons and
bones broke and with one fast and precise swing I removed his head. The of the rest of the body
would be dismembered, quartered, divided and stored away for later consumption and would sustain
my family for months. The head, a trophy it would be placed into a container and given back to the
man I had never

Ebon: The Myth Of The Stone
Ebon awoke, with a start, to the sound of someone crying. He had had a weird dream. He dreamt
that Master Eldon, Eric, and himself were all together in his old cabin. Suddenly, Eldon drew a
beautiful sword from his scabbard. Eric saw the sword and drew his flute from his pocket. Ebon
found himself drawing an odd crystal from his pocket. The crystal was shaped like a diamond. It had
four parts coming to a square pyramid at the top. The bottom was a mirror image of the top, making
the crystal perfectly symmetrical. He recognized the crystal that he had drawn. It was a Salinum
Crystal Eldon had told him that there were only three in existence. One was owned by the King, one
was owned by the dark lord Mendrex, and nobody knew where the third ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
"It's unimportant. Now you are here."
Ebon smiled gratefully. "It is a lovely night."
Ilene chuckled. "Indeed. A perfect night." She gestured to the stream. "Just look at the crystal water."
She pointed up. "And the beautiful, full moon." She spread her arms out. "And all of the trees,
bristling in the breeze."
The way Ilene talked, Ebon could notice everything that she pointed out. The water sped down the
little incline, clear as glass in the moonlight. The full moon did well in illuminating their faces. The
trees seemed to be having conversations with each other. Each one swayed as if laughing. If he
strained his ear, he could hear the faint chirping of nocturnal birds. Ebon could not help but grin
broadly. "Yes," he said, "It is all beautiful." His gaze, once again, fell onto Ilene. He was surprised to
see her eyeing him, as well. She seemed on the verge of saying something.
They suddenly both blushed and looked away. Ebon cleared his throat, and stood up. "Anyway, that
was some trick that Eric did yesterday."
Ilene almost seemed disappointed to change the subject. "Yeah, I wondered how he did it. It would
be handy for other times. My broth... Lucius, was much more powerful than last time when you

Parenthood: Not For the Faint of Heart Essay
Whatever the circumstance that initiates parenthood, there is one constant variable – there is a new
person in this world needing care. The most qualified people for the job are the parents. True, there
are no manuals, but each of us has the basic tools needed to become effective parents.
These tools are programmed into our DNA for survival of the species. The only difference between
us and the rest of the animal kingdom, who seem to have no problem raising their young to be self
reliant members of their social order, is our self indulgent free will. Effective parenting requires
love, patience, strength, resilience, and sense of purpose. Effective parenting also requires a social
support system that reinforces and supports the efforts ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I did not want to pull her from the program, but I did not want things to continue as they were. The
situation came to a turning point when the director greeted me at the door as I came to pick Jessica
up after bowling one day. I was informed Jessica and her teammates were being completely
disruptive and ignored the director's requests to bowl properly. I told Jessica to apologize to the
director and promise to behave in the future. Throwing a look to her new friends, Jessica gave me a
sarcastic response. A tactical error of epic proportions! I looked my daughter steely in the eyes and
in front of her friends, the director, and the entire bowling league, said in a very slow and calm
voice, "If you think I am going to stand by and let you turn into these two (motioning my thumb to
her new friends), you're mistaken. If I have to, I will quit my job and make watching your every
move my new profession. We don't need to shop at Limited Too, Goodwill is just fine. I'll just call
the school and explain the situation. They won't mind if I sit behind you in every class. Walk behind
you in the halls. Sit with you in the cafeteria. When you go to the bathroom, I'll be there. Nothing is
as important in my life as you. So whatever it takes to get you back to the person we raised, that's
what I'll do. It's up to you." As a mother it was my defining moment. I knew she knew I meant every
word, and she was not going to call my bluff. Jessica apologized to

Babbitt's Deformed Conscience
Babbitt, by Sinclair Lewis, demonstrates a sound heart kept beneath a deformed conscience. Babbitt,
the main character, decides to follow his sound heart, but soon realizes he cannot overcome the
corrupt principles of his middle class culture. The bourgeois conscience influences Babbitt to value
success and a superior reputation, but Babbitt's sound heart begins to refuse conformity through
rebellion. He temporarily abandons this deformed conscience, but he cannot change his lifestyle
completely. Babbitt's tendency to follow the deformed conscience emphasizes his conformity and
desperation to belong. Babbitt's sound heart is faint underneath his compliance because his identity
lies within this system of corrupt morals. Babbitt cares about his good reputation within the Zenith
community. He had the satisfaction of possessing the reputation of a successful real–estate agent.
Babbitt's position gave him integrity and status which he believed he deserved. His reputation was
significant because it became his identity and a source of belonging. Babbitt's status granted him the
proper recognition from his community. Nathaniel Rich, a Novelist and former editor, writes ...
Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
He decides to stay with his wife because the Zenith community would strip him of his integrity. This
deformed conscience has a major impact in his decisions, because it forces him to maintain the ideal
lifestyle. He stays with his sick wife out of guilt and commendation. Babbitt uses Myra's illness as
an excuse to revert to conformity and staying as a respectable man when he tells her, "Oh honey, I
love you more than anything in the world! I've kind of been worried by business and everything, but
that's all over now, and I'm back again." Babbitt has the same deformed conscience because of his
insincere apology and motives to stay with Myra. Even though Babbitt has characteristics of a sound
heart, it is almost defeated by

Personal Narrative: The Homeless Man
What thoughts have I tonight as I walk emptied handed and no one to be arm in arm with as I
navigate the LA streets. I envy the young man wiping out on his skateboard. Look at the concern on
the young woman's eyes. She looks on with a frown. Still, he makes her laugh with his imitation of
the Zombie's walk. How much happiness is contained in the rivulets of his blood that hardens along
the shin of his wounded kneecap? What thoughts have I tonight, walking the LA streets that are east
of LAX. There is the homeless man with his Macy's shopping bag. He looks at me as if he's worried
that I might steal his bag. He curls his back as he hunches over and turns to look at me over his right
shoulder. How evil I must look to threaten him so much as

Ethan wasn't certain what woke him a few hours later. Perhaps it was the silence of the house, or the
faint creaking from the steps. Sitting up, he grabbed the knife from the stand as he got out of bed.
His heart was racing in his chest as he leaned against the closed door, waiting to hear the werewolf's
harsh breath. No huffing breath filled his ears as he reached up and opened the door. Peering out into
the hallway, he saw the light at the end on.
Pushing the door fully open, he walked down the hallway and looked down the carpeted stairs. He
lowered the hand with the knife, as he carefully walked down the stairs. Gazing at the basement
door he realized it wasn't opened. A faint click caught his attention as he felt tingling sensation
against the back of his neck.
"Put it down." A harsh voice hissed as Ethan set the knife on the ground. His eyes trailed over to the
desk, noticing it wasn't tampered with yet. "I want everything you have." The voice stated as Ethan
gulped.
"We don't have much." Ethan responded as he tried to think of a plan. Something, anything as his
brain frantically searched for different ideas.
"Your ring." The thief said as he offered his hand out, so Ethan could see it. Ethan plucked the band
from his finger and placed it into the man's hand. He could hear something scraping in the basement,
it echoed through the house. "What was that?" The man asked.
"The plumbing... It's an old house." Ethan lied as the man pressed on the back of his head a

Chile: A Short Narrative Fiction
Chile, 2012 At close to eight thousand feet above sea level, the three men inside the white SUV
were feeling cold, and they were tired. The high altitude meant they were breathing harder and
deeper. Breathing was tiring. The worst of it though was the waiting. After being cooped up inside
the vehicle for more than an hour, Jenkins wanted action. Patience was not his strongest point. Not
even close. He struck the butane lighter and stared at the perfect form of the blue spearhead in the
dark of the cab. Ain't nothing like watching a fire burn, pure and simple. Man, I'd kill for a smoke.
He lifted his thumb and glanced across at Carlston in the driver's seat. The man was gazing blankly
through his window at nothing. "What time you got?" Jenkins asked. ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
"Will ya quit playing with the lighter? That's all I can hear." Jenkins dropped the hot metal into his
jacket pocket. "What's the time?" He asked again, his voice a monotone. "Ten to nine," Calston
lifted the headset back on and stared out the window in the direction of the observatory. "He's late."
"Freaking scientists. They just can't leave their desks, can they? Doesn't he have a bitch to go home
to?" "Lives alone. Probably got a boyfriend." Carlston made a lewd gesture with his hand. Jenkins
gave a cold laugh. "Ya know, I remember, back in the day. When I was in Eighty–Second Airborne it
was illegal to be homosexual. Now it's considered optional. Did you know that?" Carlston
sniggered. "Good thing you got out before our beloved president makes it mandatory." "Yeah..."
Jenkins stared out into the blackness in front of them, letting out a long sigh that sounded more like
a whistle. "That's I'm saying." Carlston straightened up in his seat. "Got him. He's on his cell phone–
and coming through the doors!" The side window facing the observatory hissed open behind the two
men sitting in the front. "Stand by," Mackenzie said in his rasping

Room 100 Creative Writing
It was a typical day in the Tatafu household, with my sister and I participating in a match of our
amateur version of basketball, my mother passionately gardening and the rest of the house basically
lounging around. I remember distinctly that the day was the 2nd of February, also known as the
aggravating first day of school. For odd some reason, I had sensed an unsettling feeling that blended
in with our borderline 'couldn't–be–bothered' behavior as we foregathered in for dinner. The silence
that usually accompanied our dinners had transitioned into a newfound awkward hush, and I knew
immediately that something just wasn't right. I had heard the gossip slipping through the occasional
conversations within the disorderly family meetings, however I just assumed they were rumours.
They had to be. "She lost the baby." I introduce to you, ladies and gentlemen, the day my world
disintegrated.
The majority of the world's population would've taken at least one day off to let everything fully
sink in, right? Room 100. Although, in the eyes of my mother, I am not a proportion of that ... Show
more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Though, in contrast to the situation that morning, I was surrounded by my loquacious siblings and
first cousins– or as we call ourselves, BRENIUKEN (a combination of the three firstborns of the
next generation). All I was thinking right then was, "Why am I here?" But the numerous 'shut ups'
and silent cries descending down the hallway, reminded me of why we were all assembled in that
room for that specific night. It was time to say goodbye together. The footsteps of my sister–in–law
and my brother then enter the room, and I was distraught by what I had witnessed. There they
appeared, holding their stillborn child in their hands with puffy red eyes filled with tears. As they
walked towards their seat, everyone in that room started to sing to express our love and respect for
our lost

Creative Story : A Short Story
It was a hot Sunday catholic morning, a usual for Spring, Texas, I had my creative imaginative mind
and the world to keep me entertained. I was in my preppy Sunday clothes in front of the church
waiting for the bells to tell me to come inside. I ran off and played with friends while also feeling an
eerie sense of someone or something watching us. We continued to run around until the eventual
loud and beautiful chimes of the church bells ring. As my friends and I ran for the church's doors,
expecting a usual Sunday, we heard behind us the crackling of a giant beast finally coming down.
This monster was the size of a skyscraper, had horns tall enough to reach clouds, skin with the
texture of rotting fruit, the color of tar dripping down its skin, and the smell of a decaying body.
Cucuy, boogieman in Spanish, was the name of the monster that the other kids and I had given him.
Cucuy had been living in front of the church for longer than most of the kids had been born and for
others a lifetime. He was what gave children nightmares and in short, a tree of death. Cucuy falling
was unheard of to most of us, we all thought of him as some immortal being that can't be stopped.
When looking back on that day Cucuy fell, I think of how terrifying it was as he fell, how paralyzed
in fear I was afterward and remember how that day changed my perspective on life forever. From
the moment that I heard the horrendous tree make those sounds of hissing and crackling, I realized
that

As Jenna stood there drenched in the oniony stench of the cafeteria's chili, all she could think about
was how she was going to get revenge on Taylor Everly. "Whoops," Taylor said sarcastically while
her annoying gang of peppy followers giggled behind her.
As she walked away, Jenna heard her say to her friends "At least she'll smell better now."
Taylor was the cheer captain and the school's star track runner. She had been torturing Jenna for
years. But Jenna never fought back. She had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike back.
...
When Jenna arrived home that night she began forming her plan. I need to rob her of her happiness,
she thought. I need to make her pay.
Jenna was badly neglected all through her childhood. Her parents fought often too. So while her
parents had their usual screaming matches she would think up ways to escape her house. Because
Jenna had a vivid imagination it was easy to figure out how to execute her plan.
...
Instead of going home as soon as the bell rang like she normally did, Jenna decided to stay after
school to watch cheer practice. Taylor was leading the first cheer when Jenna arrived.
"I'm sorry, Jenna, but only cheerleaders are allowed in here and as far as I know we don't accept
hags like you," Taylor said as Jenna walked in. Jenna ignored Taylor and took a front row seat on the
bleachers.
As Taylor began the next cheer, Jenna silently took notes in her head on what Taylor valued. She
knew that she was a track star and that meant that she used her legs. Jenna also noticed that Taylor
did a lot of high kicks. Again using her legs. And then it hit her. She needs her legs. Jenna thought.
I'll take her legs. This was the last thing she needed to complete her plan.
...
Once cheer practice was over, Jenna slipped out the back door and went around to the front of the
school. She waited behind the door for Taylor to walk out.
When Taylor walked out with her friends, Jenna quietly walked behind them. The other girls
squealed their goodbyes and left the school parking lot. When Taylor went to her car, Jenna came
out from behind her and held a knife up to her throat.
"Be still and comply," Jenna said in a low raspy voice.
"Give me the keys to your car," Jenna instructed.

Twin Fans: A Narrative Fiction
"Lil?" Angela called, setting the groceries down on the kitchen counter. The television was on and
playing an old episode of Twin Peaks, Lillian's favorite show. Lillian, however, wasn't in there
watching it.
Angela put the small amount of groceries away before calling out again. "Lillian! I'm home!" Her
voice echoed through the house and empty halls. The only sound was the faint murmur of Agent
Dale Cooper asking for a damn fine cup of coffee.
The bathroom turned up empty. Angela went up to Lillian's writing room and turned on the light,
illuminating the corner desk with Lil's beloved MacBook on it. She looked at her collection of
mermaid antiques and souvenirs. Even the artwork on the walls were classic style painting of the
water nymphs. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
A place she had feared for the last eighteen years.
"Lil?" she said one last time before stepping down into a nightmare.
Everything was like it was the last time she'd been down there. The dryer there where her daddy did
his filthy deed. The window that opened to the ground level beside the house, where she had
assumed the other man had come in from that night.
And there was Lillian. Hanging from the rafters and swinging by her neck like a fucked–up piñata at
a kids party.Her pale blond hair hung limply in her bloated face and over eyes that bulged wildly
from their sockets. The room stank of piss and shit and a thin trail of vomit was splashed down the
front of Lil's pretty blue sweater.
Angela wasn't ready for the sight of her baby sister hanging from the joists like a piece of meat on a
hook. For a moment, all she could do was tremble and feel the hot tears run down her face. When
she screamed, people all down Walsh and Bishop turned on their lights and looked to see what could
have cause that sound. It was the sound of pure hurt and

One Day Narrative Essay
The year is 2021. I haven't been outside my house or made contact wth another person in 13 days
since my older sister Zy'YAH died. My sister was my roommate, only remaining relative, and my
best friend. Both of my parents died in a car crash when I was thirteen and Zy'YAH was sixteen.
One day they were alive and well, and the next they were just gone. After their death, Zy'YAH
assumed the parent role. Everything I had to live for was gone. My house no longer feels like home.
I hadn't gone grocery shopping in almost two weeks and all of my food was starting to spoil. I
decided that I needed to go. I laid in bed for another hour, staring at the pPaicture on the wall of
Zy'YAH and I at my high school graduation, trying to imprint the image of her smile firmly into my
head. I cloaked myself in all black and pulled back my dark hair into a ponytail. I reached the front
door, pausing for a second. I could hear the faint thumping of Zy'YAH's feet coming down the stairs;
my eyes darted behind me and I realized that she wasn't there. When I stepped outside, the harsh
light burned my eyes. Sunlight filtered through the doorway for the first time since Zy'YAH's death.
I look down and begin to walk towards my neighborhood's grocery store. I walk in and cringe at the
sight of smiling couples and happy people with their children. ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
If he looks at me one more time, I'm going to yell at him, I think to myself. He turns around again
and probably sees the angry expression on my face. "I don't mean to bother you, but you seem like a
prime candidate for a new neuro–cognitive clinical trial for depression that is designed to improve
the patient's mental health. The basis is in memory alteration in order to improve a person's
memories to decrease the burdens on a person" he said. I look at him blankly. "If you're interested,
here is my card," he says, then walks

“Lord of the Flies” Character Essay
Humans have a monster inside of them that is subdued by society, and if society is taken away, then
that "monster" will consume them. This is true for most people, but not all humans are like that. One
of the most notable humans to over come the "monster" is Simon, a character from the book "Lord
of the Flies" by William Golding. The story is set on an island in the Pacific Ocean. A plane full of
British schoolboys crash lands on an island and they're stranded there with no adults, no society, and
no rules. Simon is one of the few characters that stay sensible and good throughout the story. He has
a sixth sense about things happening around him, he is kindhearted, and he faints a lot which give
the appearance of him being weak. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Simon gets fruit for the littluns who can't reach it by themselves, another kind act only meant to help
another. "He [Piggy] went crouching and feeling over the rocks but Simon, who got there first,
found them for him" (71). When Jack hits Piggy and he loses his glasses, Simon is the one that picks
them up for him. Simon knows that Piggy gets picked on and is disliked among most of the
members of the tribe, but he helps him out anyways. Simon's angelic nature is topped off with the
fact that he has seizures. Simon faints continuously throughout the story, which gives the impression
that he's weak. "Then one of the boys flopped on his face in the sand and the line broke up" (20).
This is the first time Simon faints. " 'He's [Simon] always throwing a faint,' said Merridew" (20).
Here Jack Merridew admits that Simon has fainted a lot in the past and should be just left alone on
the sand. "Simon was inside the mouth. He fell down and lost consciousness" (144). When he
imagines that the sow's head is talking to him, he has a seizure near the end of the conversation and
blacks out. This is the last time he fainted until his life ended. Simon faints a lot throughout the story
giving others the impression he is weak and sickly, but in truth he is a very strong, caring person.
Simon represented the good on the island. When he dies, something

Logical Fallacies And Pitfalls In The Crucible By Arthur...
Logical Fallacies and Pitfalls in The Crucible In The Crucible, a Modern tragedy, Arthur Miller
incorporates many logical fallacies including the post hoc ergo propter hoc fallacy. When Reverend
John Hale, Giles Corey, and Francis Nurse visit John Proctor and his wife, they all explain how
many wives are being accused of witchcraft. Giles states that Walcott charged his wife, Martha
Corey, on the terms of bewitching his pigs. He says that Walcott bought one pig from his wife, and it
died shortly after. He asked for his money back, but Martha refused, arguing that he will not live to
own many pigs if he doesn't know how to feed them properly. Giles concludes, "Now he goes to
court and claims that from that day to this he cannot keep a pig alive ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
During the first court proceedings, Proctor gives Danforth a document attesting the good opinions of
Rebecca Nurse, Elizabeth Proctor, and Martha Corey. Danforth explains that all ninety–one people
who signed the testament must be summoned for questioning. He remarks that it is an attack on the
court. When Proctor becomes upset about bringing trouble upon those people, Danforth states, "But
you must understand, sir, that a person is either with this court or he must be counted against it,
there be no road between" (Miller 87). The logical device functions in the scene to create a sense of
hopelessness. Since there are only two outcomes in the minds of the court officials, they rush to
conclusions. The girls' influence on the court officials puts the decisions in their favor, leading the
villagers to either confess to witchcraft or be hanged. Danforth's statement is one that guides the rest
of the novel. The idea that one must either be with the court or against it leads to all of the problems
in Salem. The forced choice from two alternatives creates tension, fear, and false accusations in the
community. The corrupt court makes rash decisions using this reasoning. Therefore, the fallacy of
the false alternative adds to the development of the play as a whole by creating a sense of
hopelessness and despair for the truthful villagers in

Hidden Courage of a Boy
The boy lay there next to his father keeping each other warm from the chilling atmosphere where
they set camp. The air was so moist it turned the dirt into damp mud and the boy could feel his
sleeping bag submerge into it. The intimidating glare of an owl examining him sent a tingle up his
spine. The sounds of bugs chiming filled the ambience, killing the silence giving him a sense of
security. He looked up at the twilight sky illuminated by the blinding shimmer of the full moon
gleaming through the forest trees over him. Surrounding it was an array of glimmering stars
prompting the sky alive. As his body grew accustomed to the environment, each natural attribute
gave him comfort and allowed him to slowly fall into a deep sleep.
The tickling sensation of heat bathing his face forced him to slowly open his eyes. The sun's golden
rays stunned him blurring his vision as he quickly turned away. As his eyes adjusted, he was
surprised to find the absence of his father. His heart started to pound and all the confidence and
security that he had built up melted in the space of a few seconds. He jumped up flinging his
sleeping bag on to the ground and looked around taking note of his surroundings. To him, it felt as if
the trees were suddenly sent out to attack him like stealthy assassins gaining on him as they moved
side to side from the winds steady breeze. The faint noise of bugs and animals chattering sounded
like the grunt of a predator before it hunts its prey. A colossal cloud

"No, my dear," she said. "Only you." Only me? That's a little odd, but Billy must not be rude. After
all, she is giving him a comfortable place to stay in a remarkably low price. It would not do Billy
any good to provoke the old woman. Besides, he should not make any assumptions, maybe business
has been slow?
"Mr. Weaver?" A voice called, disrupting his train of thought. Billy looked up, "Yes?"
"Would you like some more tea?"
"No, thank you," Billy replied, barely noticing the faint headache he was receiving.
"Where are you from?" The strange lady asked Billy.
"London," he replied, distracted. What had seemed to be a faint headache had developed into a full
pounding against his skull. He didn't fail to notice how dizzy he had become or how fast his heart
was beating . What was happening to him? He was fine a few moments ago.
"Are you alright, my dear?" Billy nodded, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing that resonated
throughout his skull. "Maybe it is time for you to get some rest," the landlady said in a kind manner.
Billy stood up slowly, the dizziness hitting him like a ton of bricks. He wavered on his feet, but
grabbed the chair behind him.
"We best get you in bed," the old woman said, reaching over to steady Billy. Together, they walked
to Billy's room, where he now lie in bed.
Billy lie in bed, thinking. He had not failed to notice the sinister look on the woman's face, or the
glimmer of malice swimming throughout her eyes. Why had she looked at him like that?

Activism Is Not For The Faint Of Heart
Activism is not for the faint of heart. The Greensboro Sit Ins were meticulously planned and
executed and those participating in the sit ins were faced with harassment, name calling, and
constant threats of violence from those in opposition. The Montgomery Bus Boycott left many
participants walking, hitchhiking, or cycling to work and called for the organization of alternative
forms of travel such as carpools. Those in alliance with the boycott faced both acts of violence and
jail time. Likewise, some participants in the Mississippi Freedom Summer Project were viciously
kidnapped and murdered, while others were beaten, shot at, and arrested. During the civil rights era,
activism could not be done halfheartedly, one had to immense themselves in the movement and face
the backlash that came with it on the forefront. This activism is in stark contrast with today's social
and political movements, because now our crusading can all be done safely online.
Social media's prevalence is undeniable. From raising awareness to calling people to action, outlets
like Facebook and Twitter have also become powerful tools for political and social revolutions. In
the African American community, however, the effectiveness of online activism ranges from little to
none. Issues dealing with black people are, more often than not, popular on social networking sites
for a short amount of time and afterwards they tragically fade into obscurity. Many supporters of
online movements rarely venture into

Freud's Monologue
I swore to myself, "Till my last breath, I will not rest until I find peace and freedom in my life." The
destiny of mine was in the palms of Professor McDougal Freud, only a sacrificial pawn in her
ominous game of chess. I will seek vengeance for all the unfortunate toddlers that arrived at the
demon's den, unable to escape.
"Aaaaahhhhh!..."
The faint sound of a child's desperate cry was heard through the cracks of our door and it was not a
surprise to hear another piercing scream in the break of daylight. This was a sound we heard daily
while wondering who the next victim was. Her status in society towered over other ranked class,
seemingly respected and admired person. As I observed every child shiver in fear of her existence,
my resolve only ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Through all my effort and time, how can you simply take them away?"
"What in the bloody hell is he saying?!" I thought as I was eavesdropping.
"Mentally ill? My apologies, I was not fully informed with the circumstances of the children. We
will consider your situation and give you a second chance to properly teach them."
"Thank you so much! I will make sure that this never happens again. Please let me walk you out."
As the door shut behind them, my stomach fell and I knew I would not be able to see the daylight
tomorrow. We were suppose to leave this place with the inspectors and free ourselves from this
suffering. I stood there as time ticked by, helpless and lost in my own thoughts.
"Time for plan B." Luminous muttered.
"What are you saying Luminous! We are going to die once Professor McDougal Freud comes back!
This is not time to fool around!"
"Mark my words Mathias! You are going to live and escape!"
While we were shouting at each other, a faint sound of footsteps were getting closer and closer to us.
Luminous dragged me towards the back door and gave me the signal to slowly stand

Faint Memories Of My Birth Certificates
Starting this assignment, I do no feel overwhelming emotion to see my birth certificate. Faint
memories of my certificate linger within my head. In the past, I examined my birth certificate for
reasons I forgotten. Through these past examinations, I'm certain that nothing out of the ordinary
pertaining to this document exist. I believe that my parents carry truth in their words and that my
mother brought me into this life. All though, I suppose checking this document serves well to
familiarize myself with this legal document. Asking my parents for this document, they questioned
why I desired to see it after such a long time. I explained to them that it correlates to a writing
assignment for my critical thinking class. My parents overwhelmed with confusion to what kind of
assignment correlates to ones birth certificate, but I insisted that they would be better off not asking
questions. Confused and a bit off, they take me upstairs to a locked filing cabinet where all
important documents that correspond to my family belong. Rummaging through the section of my
documents, they pull out my birth certificate. A minuscule amount of excitement runs through my
body. This small ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
According to the State of Nevada, Department of Human Resources, my name is Abdullah Saif,
born in the city of Las Vegas in Sunrise hospital ( State of Nevada – Department of Human
Resources, 1995). No feelings of surprise took over me. I guess in a sense, I feel slightly fortunate.
Fortunate that the parents I know carry biological relation to me. Fortunately for me, no one
kidnapped me from the hospital and hid me from the truth of my origins until the time came to apply
for scholarships. My brother may find this assignment in a different light though, I still believe in
my mind that my parents adopted him. No way in the universes green earth that my brother and I
share the same

The Crucible Hysteria Quotes
One of the themes that a character portrays very well in The Crucible is hysteria that is shown by
Mary Warren. Mary Warren´s personality is revealed well in through this theme by her not believing
that there is witchcraft and later being accused of doing witchcraft. She is also one of the main
people that shows hysteria very well in important events such as the trial. The Crucible was written
during "The Red Scare," also known as "McCarthyism" which was "when government initiated
propaganda against Communism was at its zenith." Hysteria is "exaggerated or uncontrollable
emotion or excitement, especially among a group of people." This relates to the play, because the
community accused each other of being witchcraft for things that just happen without any real
information. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
The scene in which this happened was when Susanna Walcott came in and says the doctor doesn't
know what the matter is and turns to Parris for him to look for spiritual causes, and he wants to say
there isn't. Some proof that displays that there is hysteria is this quote from Parris during this scene
is "There is a faction that is sworn to drive me from my pulpit. Do you understand that?"(11) This is
hysteria, because Parris believes there is a faction out there to get him and maybe even fire him. He
´s just paranoid because of the witchcraft that is going on and he is afraid he will lose his job and be
made as a corrupt. This is considered hysteria, because thereś an actuals organized when there
probably isn´t. There is at least no evidence so far that this is

Faint Memories Of Visiting My Motherland
Faint memories of visiting my motherland linger in my thoughts and dreams. My visit to
Bangladesh was filled with celebrations, feasts, adventures, and treacherous journeys! Many of
these memories have been forgotten for several years. Faces and locations lost in my head. Yet, it
was on one of these perilous journeys that I had discovered a treasure so grand, that it has been
embedded in my thoughts ever since. A treasure so grand that it couldn't be found anywhere else. A
treasure so valuable that it could never be taken elsewhere to be cherished forever.
My breath was frozen in the air as a dead silence surrounded me. A light fog covered the muddy trail
since I began my hike. The drizzling rain only added to the gloomy and haggard feeling. My boots
were pressed against the ground, slowly sinking into the damp earth. The faint knocking of bamboo
could be heard growing louder. Someone or something was approaching me. Being the curious and
careless child I was, I left the trail to approach the patch of bamboo. The rugged terrain of the trail
pulled at my sore feet, and the wind whistled and whispered in my ears, as it was warning me not to
leave. But, I continued to trudge forward into the unknown. The bamboo was bendy enough for my
weak arms to push as I approached the knocking noise. Slowly I took cautious steps to avoid the
broken and fallen pieces of bamboo scattered across the ground. As I was about to take my next
step, a person's foot came slamming down into the ground! I stumbled backward, crashing onto the
ground! Suddenly, a figure broke through the cluster of bamboo.
As I looked up, out stepped a figure familiar to me. It was my father! His confusion expression
became that of relief as he helped up from the ground. He told me to follow him back to the trail he
was on. My dad and I cut through the stalks of bamboo once again until we reached a trail similar to
previous. We continued to follow the trail was a maze of lush greenery and foliage. The trail twisted
and curved. It was unknown to me, yet so familiar to my dad, I thought as I continued hiking in
amazement. Trees towered over us as the skyscrapers in the city would. The trees were castles of
wood protecting a hidden treasure. Flowers and

Descriptive Essay On The Cask Of Amontillado
The Cask Of Amontillado 2 "Montresor! My dear friend!" The breath clung in my throat as I felt
around the damp walls of the boy's family vault. "Must you come out all already?" Laughter echoed
from the depths of his faraway hiding spot. I heard him call out through the darkness with distant
confidence. "Not until you find me Fort! Hurry up now, my knees are beginning to quiver!" He had
always liked that game, for hiding himself from me was a talent in which he excelled at vigorously.
The old vault in which we secretly spent most of our childhood days was a world Montresor had
memorized like the back of his hand, every niche, every corner and every curling shadow indented
in his mind with exquisite detail. I, of course, was no more than a player in his unwinnable games,
unable to comprehend the glory of the world he loved. Several minutes passed by without a hint of
luck, until Montresor's thin line of patience snapped and urged him to call out once more.
"Fortunato, admit your failure, dear friend. Truly your seeking abilities lack compared to mine...
Call out to me! I'll find my way to you!" My mouth opened and responded with a willingness that
now makes my stomach turn with regretful sickness. Was that my problem? His ability to take
advantage of my actions worked in the most innocent of despotic ways, but still did I follow, still did
I listen. He was the most clever of killers, that Montresor, dressed in those days as a boy no older
than twelve. Yet with all that demonic

Narrative Essay
I stood paralyzed, taking small shallow breaths. The niter was causing me to cough more and more.
Slowly I regained control over my body and started trying to fight my way out of the shackles. The
wine was now starting to wear off. I had trusted Montresor and he has wronged me. Now it was I
who wanted revenge. With one last blow to the shackles against the side of the stone wall, the area
where the shackles were attached to the wall began to crumble away. After finally freeing from the
shackles, I leaned against the wall out of breath. I had to concentrate on taking deep breaths. The
freshly laid brick was not set all the way yet and I was able to push out a few from one of the top
tiers. When I looked through nothing was to be seen but darkness.
"Montresor?!" I called out wearily. There was no answer, only the faint echo of my words. The
loneliness made my skin shiver.
I knew that I had to work quickly before the bricks set anymore. I managed to knock down a small
hole near the top of the wall. I struggled for what seemed to be hours to get myself through the small
opening. When I finally did, I landed straight onto the remains of other human skulls that had been
thrown around. Once again, I had to stop and take a few minutes to catch my breath. If I didn 't get
out soon enough, this cough would in fact be the death of me. I fumbled around in the darkness and
felt the moist damp wall. Using the wall as a guide, I walked against the wall until I found a small
narrow

The Thrust Of The Engine Pushed The Airplane Forward
The thrust of the engine pushed the airplane forward. Small butterflies emerged in my stomach.
Since my first time flying, I had always felt a high level of anxiety upon boarding. This particular
flight was no different. However, my anxieties heightened by the news that Malaysian Airline fight
370 disappeared two days before. I tried my best to distract my anxieties with any irrelevant detail in
my surroundings. I laid my head against the laminar tempered glass of the airline window. The faint
chatter of the passengers surrounding me sounded distant. The pressurization system blew small
whistles of cold air. I peaked in between the narrow crack of the seat opening in front of me. The
passenger was a female. She couldn't have been any older than me. The narrow lining only allowed
me to see a side profile of her face. Her hair flowed down to her shoulders. Unlike me, her curls
looked magnificent. It looked as if she spent hours making sure each curl had the perfect
dimensions. Her hair was dark blonde with light wheat blonde highlights. I could see the swipe of
her mascara pasting onto her eyeglasses every time she blinked. It was as if a woodwork carved
every curve in her face. I quickly drew my attention to a pimple she had attempted to conceal on the
lower portion of her chin. This insignificant imperfection reminded me she was human. I then felt a
substantial relief. If I was meant to die today, I wouldn't die alone.
I had already been in Las Vegas for three days. I woke

Abigail Williams Responsible For The Salem Witch Trials
The Crucible is a book about the Salem witch trials during the puritan times. The author is Arthur
Miller. In the book there are many questionable acts, but one main question is who is responsible for
the witch hysteria. Many people can be suspected, but, Abigail Williams is to blame for the Salem
witch trials and all the lives lost because of it. Abigail Williams is most responsible for the Salem
witch trials. Abigail started all the lies by saying "Now look you. We danced. And Tituba conjured
ruth putnam's dead sister. And that is all" (I.363–366). Abigail is telling all the girls the story that
they have to follow. She is basically threatening them so they won't tell the truth about what really
happened. She is convincing the other girls to lie. This is when Abigail became the ringleader of the
lies. This brings her powers, which she starts to use for revenge. Continuing on, Abigail won't let go
of her feelings for John and resents Elizabeth. She is still convinced John loves her when she says
"it's she put me out, you cannot pretend it were you. I saw your face when she put me out, and you
loved me then and you love me now" (I.425–429). Abigail is convinced that John still loves her and
Elizabeth is coming between them. This makes her grow more angry with Elizabeth and more
desperate for John. She uses this growing power and hate for revenge. Abigail accuses Elizabeth of
witchcraft shortly after this encounter. To add on, Abigail leads all the

Lab Report Essay
Discussion:
For each half of the membrane, only 1 unique band should appear in each sample lane, and the band
should be consistent with other lanes as well. The reason is that a primary antibody can only bind to
a specific protein. If that specific protein is present in the sample, then a band should appear. In this
experiment, goat anti–rabbit HRP was used to localize the site of the primary antibody. This
secondary antibody was used for both halves of the membrane, because both primary antibodies
were made from rabbit.
In theory, a LDH band should be observed in each of the sample 1~4, because all four samples
contain LDH enzyme. A band was observed for each well 1,2 and 4, which suggests that LDH
enzymes are present. Sample 4's band however, is very faint. This suggests that the protein amount
in the loading is very scarce, resulting a weak band expression. Sample 3 is the same crude protein
as sample 4, but it has 10–fold less protein amount for loading than that of sample 4; therefore, well
3 would less than likely to have a band expression. The LDH bands appeared around 35 kDa
according to the molecular marker; however, the literature molecular weight for LDH is 140 kDa.
The reason LDH bands ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
The band expressions suggest that BSA protein is presented in the sample. A band shouldn't have
been observed in well 8, because it is a purified LDH sample, which shouldn't contain any BSA
protein. Since the band is very faint, the band appearance could be due to sample contamination.
The sample from well 7 or 9 could have overflowed to well 8, resulting a faint band in well 8. BSA
protein has a molecular weight of 66.5 kDa, which is quite close to what is observed on the
membrane. Some other bands could also be observed in well 10. Those bands could just be the
stains that weren't washed away, or could have been incomplete separation of BSA protein due to
electrophoresis or transferring

Examples Of Witchery In The Crucible '
Mary's inability to faint on command for the members of the court was because she tries to make a
point that witch accusers are not in fact what they seem. She tells the judge that "HATHORNE: And
yet, when people accused of witchery confronted you in court, you would faint, saying their spirits
came out of their bodies and choked you, (Miller 106)." "MARY: That were pretense, sir." (Miller
106) based off this she tries to persuade the judge that the girls got carried away and just don't want
to get into trouble from the dramatic scene where they were dancing in the woods and doing other
demonic things. The judges get into the mix of this and claim to have seen her faint before,
"PARRIS: Why not? Now there are no spirits attacking you, for

Dan Russell's The Breakers-Personal Narrative
The sun was just above the horizon. A gentle breeze blew and I caught the strong smell of blood,
followed by the faint smell of fresh paint. I felt a wave of nausea. For a second there I wished I
could escape the reality. But I knew I couldn't. I had to help but I didn't know how. Soon, I caught
the scent of Dan Russell. He was right next to me. I could feel an intense gaze. I couldn't look at
him. He morphed into his human form.
'The Breakers. Why?' Dan Russell was snarling.
The voice echoed in my head. The Breakers, Breakers, Breakers. It kept repeating again and again in
my head. I couldn't make it stop. Yes, the Breakers. It was their fault. I had nothing to do with it.
Really, you had nothing to do with it... You couldn't control yourself... You had to complete it... You
killed ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
There were a few days that she would wag and go out but other than that she was behaving better.
Dad came back just before Christmas and the entire family had a lovely holiday. Grandma and
Dallas spent half the day preparing and cooking dinner. Dad enjoyed living in Adelaide,
complimenting it on having that country feel.
Mum still disagrees about Bullet Head and Dallas getting married while Dad and Grandma are
supporting them all the way.
The Breakers have disbanded and everyone is going their own way. The police find out that Luke is
innocent and was forced to join the Breakers. The other guys were all fined and have now started
going to school like a typical kid.
I walked home by myself today. I stopped by the grave of the fox. It seems like yesterday that I
buried it. Then I remembered about Dan Russell. I was wondering where he was at that very
moment. I tried to call for him but no one came. Why was Dan Russell not coming? Did he not
exist? Was he my imagination? I remembered that dream I had so many months ago. It seemed so
realistic. It didn't matter now. What did matter was the history assignment that I've got to get in by
next

Personal Narrative: The Beauty Of West Virginia
Something I have experienced in the last year I was living in West Virginia I was there studying.
West Virginia is known for its beautiful mountains and views. Thousands of people come from all
over the world to experience the beauty of West Virginia. A couple friends and myself decided to go
Hiking near Blackwater Falls State park which is around two hours from where I lived. I was very
excited as I have never been hiking before.there was six of us all together and we decided to go on
July tenth. When we arrived at Blackwater it was early in the morning around six a.m birds were
chirping and morning dew was still on the grass. we brought backpacks with snacks and water and a
first aid kit for safety we stopped at the trading post to buy a few trail maps and to talk to the
naturalist for advice and cautions we should take. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
After about an hour and a half we stopped for a little break for about fifteen minutes and continued
on the trail. Four hours in and we somehow ended up on a different trail and had to figure out how
to get to where we were trying to go to begin with which was a bit of a task we had to climb and
jump from these rather large rocks which had big gaps in between them so we had to jump from one
to another we decided to regroup and stay here for awhile we sat on the large rocks looking at our
maps to find our way we ate some snacks, talked and took

The Death Of A Woman
In the aftermath, Lily often wondered why Voldemort had given her the chance to save herself, not
just once, but three times. The most logical assumption was that he 'd simply been amusing himself
before delivering the killing blow, knowing she 'd never step aside and leave her baby undefended.
But if that had been the case, she wouldn 't have survived at all. Why spare her, someone who
openly despised everything he stood for? What would inspire him to preserve the life of a woman he
could only see as a Mudblood, with nothing to distinguish her from countless others who 'd already
been slaughtered at his behest? Of course, none of these questions crossed Lily 's mind on the night
he came to murder her child. There was only room for hysterical pleas, words she would never recall
after they 'd been spoken, and a scattered internal monologue of, Please no, not Harry... I can 't bear
it... Not my baby! "Stand aside, you silly girl. Stand aside, now." Yes, she 'd remember his words,
along with the detached and altogether irrelevant observation that for a man so full of hatred, the
insult he 'd tossed in her direction was surprisingly mild. And she 'd never forget how absurd it was
that she 'd had such a calm, logical thought in the midst of absolute terror. When Voldemort raised
his wand, some strange emotion flickered behind his eyes. It wasn 't hesitation, exactly. Lily would
be haunted by that look for years before eventually identifying it as speculative. He muttered

Descriptive Essay
Familiar Shores
The waves were tauntingly calm that day, after the hurricane of fast–paced incidents that uprooted
John's life from the very beginning. He didn't think he would have changed it, even if he had a
choice. He pulled his brimmed hat further over his droopy eyes and squirmed into a more
comfortable position on the makeshift hammock, recalling the very first day.
John had found himself conflicted. His hands tugged through his rapidly greying hair, peppered
areas of darkness disappearing more and more each day. He had never been the type of man to turn
down any opportunity to aid his niece, his only remaining family, but diving to the ocean floor? He
hadn't touched his equipment in over two decades. It had been stashed away, ... Show more content
on Helpwriting.net ...
They laughed, and grappled playfully, daring each other to venture close to the weathered man,
gathering the courage to venture close enough so that John could see the dry salt in their scraggly
hair. The elders watched on carefully from the sanctuary of their homes, exuding mild hostility. John
was unaffected. He had a solid goal in mind, pulsing with determination.
John pulled on his diving equipment but with every turn of his back, he heard frantic scuttling and
finding the source, he was met with the sight of a retreating back kicking up sand and a handful of
tropical fruits left on his bag. After a while, the pile grew into a small mountain, strays rolling on the
sand. It was distracting and he was annoyed.
The first dive was a test dive. A warm–up. When he resurfaced, only two children remained seated
next to his bag, helping themselves to the fruits. They watched him trudge back up shore, squealing
as he shook water out of his hair. They crept closer and prodded his diving gear with sticky fingers.
He attempted to look irritated, but their pure and innocent, if not mischievous, curiosity reminded
him of his beloved niece.
He decided he needed something more thrilling than a simple test dive. Tailed by the children, he
eyed the dangerous rocky areas, further away from calmer waters. As he prepared to swim again, the

Faint Hints Of Tranquility Analysis
The two short stories that I've enjoyed the most have been Faint Hints of Tranquility by Shibli and
the excerpt from Midnight in Mexico by Corchado. Although these stories are fiction they come
across as intensely genuine. The sincerity in the tone of the authors brought me into the setting. Both
authors drew immensely from their own experiences, Corchado being a journalist documenting the
cartels in mexico, just like his protagonist. As well as Shibli living in palestine with her journalist
card being the only thing getting her through checkpoints. It would seem that biographically
speaking, both of these authors have lived the lives they portray in these stories. Which makes them
all the more engaging and sympathetic. Both pieces have protagonists

Book Review: To All The Boys I Ve Loved Before
In the novel, To all the Boys I've Loved Before by Jenny Han, I am reading about a teenage girl
named Lara Jean. She lives with her dad and two sisters, Kitty and Margot. Their mom died when
they were young. Margot, Lara Jean's older sister takes on all of the motherly responsibilities. She
and Lara Jean get along very well. Margot is going to college soon, and Lara Jean is very sad that
she will be leaving. Han (2014) writes, "All of a sudden I feel panicky and it's hard to breathe and I
couldn't care less about cherry chocolate chunk custard. I can't picture Thanksgiving without
Margot. I can't even picture next Monday without Margot" (Han, 2014, p. 15). Kitty is Lara Jean's
younger sister. They get in a lot of fights with each other. The ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
Josh is Margot's boyfriend. He is one year older than Lara Jean and one year younger than Margot.
Lara Jean used to be in love with Josh, until she wrote him a letter. She accepted the fact that he was
in love with Margot. They became good friends, and he hung out at their house all the time. Margot
was leaving for college soon, so she had to break up with Josh. Lara Jean felt terrible because she
knew that they love each other, but they don't want a long distant relationship. Margot leaves for
college, and things around the house were falling behind. Margot kept everything in order. She knew
everyone's schedules and organized everything to the last detail. Lara Jean starts to fall for Josh
again so she writes him another letter. She leaves her box of notes out in her bedroom. A few days
later, one of the boys came to her and showed her the letter she wrote him. She doesn't know how he
got the letter so she gets really scared. Han (2014) writes, "I feel faint. I actually feel faint. Please let
me faint right now, because if I faint I will no longer be here, in this moment" (Han, 2014, pg. 67).
Lara Jean leaves school early and stresses out. She doesn't know how the letters got sent. She
remembers that her dad was giving old objects so she asks him, but he didn't remember moving the
box. Lara Jean doesn't know how she is going to find out who sent the

Summary Of Faint Hints Of Tranquility
Reflecting on all the stories I have read in class so far, I would have to say that my two favorite
pieces of literature are, "Faint Hints of Tranquility," by Adania Shibi and, "The Uses of English," by
Akinwumi Isola. "Faint Hints of Tranquility," is a mind challenging story with its many moments of
symbolism throughout. For instance, when the Israeli reporter goes to talk with a Palestinian woman
in the Balatah refugee camp, Shibi teaches the reader about how respect looks in her culture. While
the reporter talks with the woman, she accidently steps on the woman's headscarf and she feels
beyond embarrassed about her action; as a reader, you can tell she has a little panic attack at this
moment. Before reading this piece, I didn't know that in many Middle Eastern countries touching an
object or a person with human feet is one the worst insults. Another example of symbolism, would
be when the reporter changes her password to Arafat. Arafat is the name of a Palestinian leader who
was a chairman for the Palestinian Liberation Organization. The reporter throughout the story shows
that she is suffering from PTSD and her changing her password is a way she wants to remind herself
she needs to continue fighting for what she believes in. Even the way the book is organized gives the
story more meaning. Through the voice of the story it can be inferred the protagonist is suffering
through PTSD, but the fact that her journal entries are all out of order gives the reader more insight

Syncope Research Paper
Syncope Syncope is when you lose consciousness and drop to the ground. Syncope may also be
called fainting or passing out. It is caused by a sudden drop in blood flow to the brain. While most
causes of syncope are not dangerous, syncope can be a sign of a serious medical problem. Signs that
you may be about to faint include: Feeling dizzy or light–headed. Feeling nauseous. Seeing all white
or all black in your field of vision. Having cold, clammy skin. If you fainted, get medical help right
away. Call your local emergency services (911 in the U.S.). Do not drive yourself to the hospital.
HOME CARE INSTRUCTIONS Have someone stay with you until you feel stable. Do not drive,
use machinery, or play sports until

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