46 In The Day-Personal Narrative

46 In The Day-Personal Narrative
It's 2:46 in the morning. Gracie, a 16–year–old girl with long light brown hair with natural blonde
highlights and bright blue eyes, now dull, was walking home from a friend's party. It was a cold
night in Buffalo, New York and Gracie is now holding her fur jacket to her body for the warmth it
gives. She had been drinking with a couple friends just a half hour before.
"Oh, I feel so sick," she groaned. Though her head and stomach hurt, she still walked on through the
empty streets of New York wrapping her arms around her body and heading home to get some much
needed sleep. She past a dark alley, the only light was from a street light only showing what lay
behind a couple inches past the wall, and immediately got a bad feeling about it. She started to walk
a bit faster in a slight jog, her purse that was around her neck was now ... Show more content on
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She was terrified, being out on the streets at night with that person following her, and decided to call
her mother even though she knew she would be very mad at her. Pulling out her phone to make the
call, she saw a man with a hoodie and a muscular build standing on the sidewalk right behind her.
She started in a run this time, she just saw a man following her home! She needs to call someone;
now. She ran and ran until she found a small, quick stop on the corner and decided to go in there for
help, but she didn't make it far enough. The man stalking her, grabbed her and put a towel in her
mouth and a bag over head and dragged her to a van not far behind them. She twisted and turned
trying to break free of the grasp, but he held on too hard.
¨Where am I!¨ Gracie screamed, ¨Hello!? Anyone there?¨ She couldn't see a thing, it was pitch black
wherever she was. BAM! The sound of a heavy iron door slamming into the door frame sounded not
far away. Someone is here! She screamed for someone to let her out of this place she was taken to.
She started to cry, tears streaming down her
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Essay about Chrysanthemums, A Review
"The Chrysanthemums" introduces us to Elisa Allen, a woman who knows she has a gift for things,
but can't make more use of it than to grow her chrysanthemums. She is trapped in the Salinas Valley,
where winter's fog sits "like a lid...and [makes] the great valley a closed pot." Her human nature has
made her complacent in ordinary life, but the short glimmers of hope offered by her flowers and a
passing stranger reveal that there is more to Elisa than her garden. Her environment may be keeping
her inside her small garden, but inside her heart there is a longing for more.
When we are first introduced to Elisa, she seems to look more like a man from afar than a woman
who is gardening. She wears a man's hat, and her flower ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net
...
She is no longer hiding behind her man's hat, but rather tears it off to reveal her pretty hair and asks
him to step inside the garden. When she gives the man a pot with a chrysanthemum inside to carry
with him, she begins to tell him of her "planter's hands." Elisa becomes very excited, as she begins
to think this man has something to offer her; he is a traveling man and can help her understand what
freedom feels like. While she is speaking to him, she begins to get overly excited and almost grabs a
hold of him. Unfortunately, he is not the man who can help her out, and draws the conversation
away by mentioning dinner. As soon as he does so, Elisa becomes ashamed at her own excitement,
the same excitement she showed when she was working with her flowers.
Elisa's glimmer of hope is gone now, and her character begins to reveal how she is trapped inside
that valley, much like the valley is trapped from the rest of the world by the overwhelming fog. She
becomes defensive against the stranger once more, and wants to prove to him that even a woman
can do what he is doing. Even a woman can travel and fix things for people, especially one who has
such a gift with her hands. The man's discomfort with the situation brings him to leave Elisa alone,
alone to the sounds of her own voice whispering goodbye. Here is where human nature gets the best
of Elisa, as she creeps back into her habitual

A Short Story : The Story Of Momma's Life
I knocked on the door it was that soft kind of polished wood. I heard a faint whisper saying "Come
in." I walked in and said "Hi momma how are you doing?"
She replied with "I'm okay."
I said "Where's dad?"
She said "I think down in the car. How's my little star?"
"She's great," I said with a smile.
I looked over at momma she was suffering. She was fighting cancer. I never really thought someone
I loved so dearly would get cancer. She said, "Why did you name her star?"
I smiled and said "I named her that because when I adopted her, her eyes twinkled... like a star. I
also did it because that's your middle name."
Momma smiled. She just so happens to ask this question every time. I feel like I have this
connection with momma, that none of my brothers and sisters have. Momma fell asleep. Beat Beat I
couldn't hear anything but our hearts. Then it went silent. I got knocked out of my day dream. I
looked at the monitor it wasn't going up and down anymore. It stopped. I yelled "Nurse! Nurse!"
three nurses came running in. They stopped dead in their tracks. Momma's doctor came in.
Dr. Lee said "Could you please step out of the room." I nodded and walked slowly out of the room,
rubbing my hand against the smooth wooden door. I passed all the rooms with sick dyeing people in
them. Some will go home. Some will not. They had that soft elevator music playing, the TV's
running. All of that sound playing and I couldn't hear it. My mind was like a white piece of paper
that had

IM Dead : A Short Story
I'm dead.
She kicked the door hard as one of the armored men started to sweep the room she'd hid herself in,
smashing his bulk into the door jamb to throw him off balance. Blood rushed in her ears, adrenaline
hitting her system like rocket fuel as a second set of hands grabbed the first soldier and pulled him
into the darkened room with a shoulder throw. Marissa stepped around the door, gripping her knife
in a practiced grip, flowing without hesitation into the second soldier who'd been covering the first.
Somewhere, her body was on fire, involuntary muscular contractions twisting her against her will as
she gasped for breaths that didn't come. Her eyesight was growing dim, her brain starved for
oxygen...
The knife found its home, ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
She pulled the trigger twice, the first round hammering into the hard ceramic shell of his full face
helmet, and the second puncturing through to find the gray matter underneath. She shifted her eyes
further up the hall, seeing more soldiers coming and emptied the magazine without aiming, forcing
them to scramble for cover as she ran down the hall. The air sizzled like fresh bacon as suppressed
bullets tore through the air after her.
It had to be the food, that was the only thing that fit the timing. She was only alive now because
she'd broken the rules. She was forbidden to make duplicates while on the base, but she'd cheated,
letting one extra copy of herself slip away during the call for dinner. She'd been flaunting the rules
for the dumbest of reasons, meeting up with a boy, getting physical as much to spite her would–be
keepers as for the companionship. That small act of rebellion was the only reason she still had a
clean body to act through.
"GAH!" a concentrated burst tore its way through her leg, blowing out her knee from behind and
causing her to stumble and fall face–first into the gore of one of her class mates. Her breath hitched
in her throat as she hissed, gripping her shredded knee as they approached. Her face was pale from
the shock, fear ringing in her eyes as the emotionless white facemasks looked down at her. She
closed her eyes and let her head fall back, feeling the blood soaking into her hair with a whimper.

Short Story : ' The Dollhouse '
"The Dollhouse"
"NO MOM I AM NOT MOVING WITH AUNT LORA" Carla screamed at her mother. "You do not
have a choice in this decision, your father and I are sick of the constant partying and you do not
respect the privileges that other people would die for. Last night when we had to bail you out of jail
was the last straw, plus it is only for the summer." her mom stated calmly as she packed the last
suitcase containing her daughter's things.
"Mom she lives in the middle of nowhere and there is not even a mall in sight, What am I supposed
to do for fun if I cannot go shopping?" Carla asked desperately hoping her mother would change her
mind, but instead her mom began shouting at her.
"See, that is what is wrong with you, you are a spoiled little brat." Carla's mom stormed out of her
room slamming the door behind her.
Carla looked in the mirror at herself admiring her model slim body, voluminous bouncy blonde
curls, and stunning green eyes. She had always gotten what she wanted, but she knew that was not
going to happen this time no matter what she tried. She vowed to make her aunt's life a living
nightmare the entire time she was there. The maids loaded all of her stuff into the car, so it would be
ready for Carla when she arrived tomorrow. The next morning Carla was awakened by the sun's
bright rays shining through her bedroom window. She knew today was the day she left her lavish

Quest for Personal Identity in Toni Morrison's the Bluest Eye
Post World War I, many new opportunities were given to the growing and
expanding group of African Americans living in the North. Almost 500,00
African Americans moved to the northern states between 1910 and 1920. This
was the beginning of a continuing migration northward. More than 1,500,000
blacks went north in the 1930's and 2,500,00 in the 1940's. Life in the
North was very hard for African Americans. Race riots, limited housing
resulting in slum housing, and restricted job opportunities were only a few
of the many hardships that the African American people had to face at this
time. Families often had to separate, social agencies were overcrowded with
people that all needed help, crime rates increased and many other ... Show more content on
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"`Crazy foo...my floor,
mess ...look what you...get on out...crazy...crazy...my floor , my floor....'
Her words were hotter and darker than the smoking berries. The little [white]
girl in pink started to cry. Mrs. Breedlove turned to her. `Hush, baby, hush.
Don't cry no more'" (Morrison 109). Her mother viewed Pecola as an obstacle
that had the potential to get in the way of her white charge's happiness and
consequently her happiness. Her mother refused to show any love to Pecola
because it might interfere with more important things. For a little girl, the

love of her mother is the most important love she can receive. Without that,
how can she think that she is worth anything at all?
Finally the rape by her father is the last evidence Pecola needs to believe
completely that she is an ugly unlovable girl. While in most cases a father
figure is one who little girls look to for guidance and approval, Cholly is
the exact opposite. He hurts Pecola in a physical way that in one attempt
measures up to the years of hurtful mockery. He took away from her the one
thing that was utterly and completely hers. After the rape, Pecola was never
even remotely the same:
She was so sad to see. Grown people looked away; children, those who were not
frightened by her, laughed outright. The damage done was total. She spent
her days, walking up and down her head jerking to the beat of a drummer so
distant only she could hear.

Personal Narrative: An Interview With Nurse Helen
My bare feet slap against the smooth, cold floor as I graze my hand across the fractures of the dark
gray walls. Patients walk around me with nurses scolding them like monstrous mothers. Compared
to all the psychos in here, I seem to be an angel. I never talk back, I always listen, I do what they
say. Nurse Helen even said I may be released in a month's time. The workers don't understand why I
was sent here, and neither do I for that matter. I can ignore his voice, I can reject his advances on my
mind, I... "Listen to me!" I scream as we trot down the hallway, her heavy step masking the sounds
of the other patients. I look through her emerald eyes, seeing everything she sees. She never seems
to answer and I don't know why. I only want what's ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I knew I could do it. All it took was a few months of persistence, and a little manipulation on my
part. She did the rest all on her own. The nurses are starting to catch on, but that doesn't really
matter too much. They don't know I'm here. They'll never catch me. I have everything right where I
want it. She'll never realize what is actually happening here, She's too far gone. It's almost done.
How should I truly feel? His argument has started to make sense. These people will never learn and
this place will never overcome it's madness. This rain of torture inflicted on my sanity must end. I
may not agree with everything he says, but if letting him run free will get him to let go of me
completely, I'll submit. There comes a time in everyone's life where they can't bare the weight on
their shoulders, and if the doctors won't help me, I'll have to help myself. This is the only way. I will
relinquish my power to the wretched

Survivor's Guilt In The Vietnam War By Boo Kien
Survivor's guilt has played a substantial role throughout the story. Boa Ninh helps the reader to
become aware and understand war as being all conquering by comparing it to love. Kien faced
many hardships after war, being one out of ten to survive the Vietnam War, he realized that he
should "expose the reality" by writing his own biography. He struggles with both the memories of
the war and also his trauma post–war. He says that he is required to write about the war as he is the
only survivor of the battalion. He writes to get rid of his tormenting memories going on his head. He
is not only traumatized because of war, but he also was traumatized because of the rape of his long
lost love Phuong. War is presented as real life situations the killing, bombing, and the loss of many
solders. Kien did not only writing about life during war but he went back into his younger childhood
days before the war. He talked about his childhood sweetheart Phuong and how their life later
drifted apart due to the war. He described the good times and he described the tormented memories.
Trauma is portrayed in many ways throughout the story through writing, love, and survivor's guilt.
Bao Ninh portrayed his own experiences in the narrative. He uses his own experience so that he
could describe to a reader what war can do to an individual soldier. Kien was used to portray this
experience. Kien writes about how damaged he is from war. It shows how Kien is unable to get back
into society. Kien used

My Dreams Come True
One of the most unsatisfying things one can endure in life is not accomplishing their goals. People
in this generation don't work for what they want. They tend to become comfortable with where they
are at in life and don't want to give the effort or risk losing what they have to make their dreams
come true. On the other hand, there are those who will do whatever it takes to accomplish their life
goals. One of the most satisfying things in life is accomplishing a goal well worked for, but it's not
very common to find people who will do this. The people who persevere through the toughest of
times are the ones who will succeed; they are the ones whose dreams will come true. Brenda, who
was well known to be a gentle, loving mother, a non adventurous woman, one afraid of heights, and
currently impaired with a torn meniscus, decided to hike up a mountain. It was her dream to go to
the Hollywood sign with her family, and she was going to fulfil this dream on her family's spring
break trip to California. We all told her, "Mom, you are crazy. There's no way you will be able to
make it all the way to the top with an injury." She would just smile at us and say, "I can do anything
I set my mind to." Brenda nervously looked up back and forth between her knee and the mountain
on her right side as her husband drove toward the hiking trail. She knew it wasn't safe for her to hike
a week before her surgery on a torn meniscus, but she'd always wanted to go to the Hollywood sign.
Her

Analysis Of The Movie ' Ava '
Ava had found herself in more than a few situations that had left her cheeks bright red with
embarrassment and shame, but this topped all of them by far. It was bad enough that her bronzed,
nubile body was marred by the grime and dirt that seemed to infest every spot upon the floor of the
locker room. In fact, it was bad enough that her rival, who had just beat and humiliated her in front
of an audience, was now being pleased by Ava's tongue. However, the worst part of it all, as she lay
there with her tongue 'tween Aida's folds and her breasts being toyed with like they were stress
balls, was that she was enjoying it.
Despite just how terrible and messed up all of it was, Ava couldn't help but feel her arousal growing
by the minute. Her ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
What she had not really counted on was the extensive experience of her opponent, which was not
wholly known to her, or simply just how easy her plan was to decipher.
So, instead of really resisting her opponent, all Ava was doing was playing exactly into the
Valkyrie's hands. And it was to this end that when Aida began to hurl obscenities and threats like
alms to a beggar, she quickened her pace. If everything went according to plan, Aida would flow
between orgasms until the entire experience began to hurt and exhaust rather than pleasure.
Aida moaned out as she began to finish once more, her whole body twitching and writhing against
the admittedly talented tongue of the girl below her. It was always somewhat astonishing to her just
how easy it was to use her conquered foes. She played them like a fiddle, and Ava was no different.
The dumb brunette was, as her phone displayed, just another in a long line girls who had been
reduced to unabashed sluts. The whole idea reminded Aida that one picture of her foe's humiliation
was hardly enough to remind her of just how complete the process had been. As she teetered over
the edge of her second orgasm she grabbed a fistful of her conquered foe's hair, pulling her back just
enough to encapsulate her mouth as she commanded "Smile!" before snapping a picture and
returning Ava to her place. Looking at the photo, she was pleased at how easily Ava had given in, a
wide grin on the

Analysis Of Michael Ondaatje 's ' The Skin Of A Lion '
In Michael Ondaatje's In the Skin of a Lion, the play of light and shadow are reoccurring motifs that
identify and relate to the general themes of remembering and forgetting. H. Porter Abbott has
defined motif as "a discrete thing, image, or phrase that is repeated in a narrative", where in contrast,
a theme "is a more generalized...concept that is suggested by... motifs" (237). Abbott emphasizes
that "Themes are implicit in motifs, but not the other way around" (95). In In the Skin of a Lion,
Ondaatje emphasizes the class struggles endured by the immigrant workers and the internal
struggles faced by the central characters. The motif of chiaroscuro, the play of light and shadow,
reflects how the characters try to forget their past and personal burdens, and strive to recall joyful
memories, which aides them in embracing new beginnings and creating new memories. I will argue
that the motif of light relates to the theme of remembering and the motif of shadow identifies with
the theme of forgetting. I will show these relationships by analyzing the imagery and context of four
central scenes in which light and shadow play a significant role. Firstly, I will discuss the event of
the nun falling off the unfinished bridge. Secondly, I will consider the candle–light vigil held for the
deceased bridge works. Thirdly, I will discuss the working conditions of the tunnel workers in the
section "Palace of Purification", and lastly, I will analyze the concluding scene in which Patrick and
Hana

Kaloona's Perfect Plan to Save her Planet
A darkness. An absolute darkness accompanied with deathly silence. Just somewhere from a
distance is heard a baby crying. Kaloona immediately knew, why the darkness clouded her planet.
She went in tears to the balcony, looked up to the sky and quietly cried: "I failed. I could not protect
Balathron–the light of life. Now our planet will die and all people with it. Mummy, please forgive
me." Kaloona felt hopelessly, but she knew, she must do something very quickly to save her planet
and her nation. Suddenly was born a perfect plan in her mind. "General Tarkhan, can you come to
my room, please?" she said with determination in her voice into the communication device. In a few
minutes General knocked on her door. "Yes, her Majesty. I and all my soldiers are ready and waiting
for your permission to find and eliminate enemies who stole Balathron and bring it back to
Sorascant." Kaloona looked at him and said: "No, General, it is my mission to protect people of
Sorascant and not to send them to certain death. I will not allow women lost their husbands and
children their fathers. I will go and find them. Do not try to stop me, I have already decided. As
Guardian of Balathron is my duty to protect the light and whereas was stolen, it is my duty to return
it where it belongs. All I need from you is to find mage Romerithan and bring him to me as soon as
possible. And also target a spacecraft of Admiral Ballisian and inform me about his every move.
Thank you. Now you can

Media Log Essay
Media Logs
On the weekday, September 8th, I had no plans other than to go to my 11:00 a.m. class and to make
the hour–long drive to go to my home town later that night. I had no middle of the day plans, so I
spent my day relaxing and watching internet shows on Netflix. Later, I took some time to text my
stepfather, because my car broke down. Once I got my car mobile, I sang along to the radio while I
drove home. A week later, September 17th on a weekend day, I used the same types of media again.
I spent a few hours watching Netflix, until I became motivated to study for the exams I had to take
the next day. Then I studied for the rest of the day, using google to help me define and look up
information. Late that night I song along to the radio while I shower and decided to keep it playing
as I fell asleep. Although I did different activities through the days, both days I used many of the
same media types, and most were around the same time of day. On these days, the media that took
up most the time was watching Netflix. I spent about 2 hours and 30 minutes each day watching the
online shows. The time I starting watching was roughly 1:00 p.m. and I did not watch any shows
pasted 5:00 or 6:00 pm, on both days. Another media I used on both days is Snapchat, a form of
social media. On both days, I used Snapchat close to when I woke up, and right before I went to
bed. Snapchat wasn't the only media I used right before bed, although I used text messages at small
amounts throughout both days, before bed I'd text for a longer period, between 30 minutes to an
hour. The radio was a very prevalent media but it was not consistent like the other media types at
certain times of the day, only while I was driving, showering, or sleeping. Some of my media usage
shocked me. It surprised me how much of my time I spent watching online shows. I reacted by
being disappointed about what I spent my time doing compared to what I could have spent my time
doing. I felt lazy, and embarrassed. Much of media used in both days were Netflix and the radio.
Neither of these types of media are productive, or helped me accomplish anything. I used the medias
for my entertainment. My roommate uses much more media than I do at one time.

The Power Of Evil In John Steinbeck's East Of Eden
Cathy Trask's behavior in John Steinbeck's East of Eden defines the monstrous ability capable of
existing in the human soul. Steinbeck puts it best when he said: "And just as there are physical
monsters, can there not be mental or psychic monsters born?"(72) From childhood, Cathy used her
monstrous ability to get what she wanted and escape the unwanted. Even into adulthood, she used
her inhuman ability to hurt the ones she loved, and the ones who loved her. Many see her true evil
nature without even knowing her. Her corrupt behavior radiated from her. Although, Cathy may
show some traits of humanity, her manipulation and appearance define her true evilness. From an
early age, Cathy knew the power of manipulation and lies. "Cathy's lies ... Show more content on
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Most parents feel some sort of love towards a child they conceive, even if they can't afford to keep
it. Cathy on the other hand, never felt any sort of connection to her children, as seen when she tried
to abort them. Furthermore, Cathy's evilness leads her to kill Faye. When Cathy, or Kate, gave Faye
her tonic, she would "carefully squeeze a few drops of clear liquid into the glass, a tincture of nux
vomica."(248) Even though Kate actually loved Faye in a motherly way, she felt it necessary to
poison her slowly. She even felt some sadness when she actually died, "from violence she went into
a gloomy stupor"(251). Perhaps from realizing what she had done. Although her remorse shows
traits of humanity, the actual killing she did proves her to be an actual monster. Not only were her
actions corrupt, but her appearance also gave off an uneasy vibe.
Cathy's true maliciousness was not only seen through her actions, but also her appearance. Even
when Charles did not know of Cathy's true nature, he still thought there was something off about
her. He even told her "I don't trust you. There's something –I almost recognize"(116) when he first
gets the chance to talk to her. On this first interaction, Charles recognizes Cathy's lack of humanity
and her monstrous behavior. The discomforted he feels toward her may be a result of his own
outburst of evilness, and as a result, he recognizes it in her as well. Similarly, when Samuel
Hamilton stayed for dinner

Personal Refletive : Personal Narrative
The year was 2081, August XX.
A few weeks after school begun and I was the new student. I could hear people talking through the
classroom walls even if the door was closed. The only reason why I was transferred here was that
the government said I had a "special ability" as known as being able to use magic. People like us are
sent to these special schools, in order not to go out of control and harm other people. The teacher
called me to walk in front of the class and introduced myself. I am Hajime Ichijou (HA–GEE–MAY
E–CHI–JOE) a normal guy who isn't able to cast magic, nor use it. For some reason, I am the only
one in my family who can't use magic and they sent me here for no reason.
All the students were "amazed" when they first saw me, ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
A few hours passed then school ended for the day, students rushed out of the classroom. I haven't
seen anyone use magic, maybe it's a bit too early? No, we were taking notes on magic and preparing
for future world tournaments against other schools around the world. I was walking through the city
until the top five ranked students in competitive battling were being mentioned by the [SEN NEWS
CHANNEL] hologram screen. "Today, we'll be telling you the top ranking students all over across
the country, don't miss out and stay tuned!" the newscaster beamed, all the people were watching the
[SEN NEWS CHANNEL] and their eyes filled with curiosity. The newscaster got out five index
cards "The fifth–ranked student is... Oh Soetsu! (OH SO–EI–SUE)" some people cheered happily
for Oh and his friends lifted him up to toss him in the air, congratulating that he made it to the top
five. The newscaster went to the next index card "This third–year high school girl worked
exceptionally hard to make it to the top and placing fourth is...Yamanishi Fujiko! (YAH–MA–
KNEE–SHE

Analysis Of A Room With A View
A Room With a View by E.M. Forster is a classic tale about a girl from Elizabethan era England
trying to find independence and purpose in the world. Lucy, the novel's main character, embarks on
a journey to Florence, Italy with her cousin during which her whole perspective is refreshed. She
experiences many new things and shares exciting times with people she knows and meets, and feels
like a new person from it. But, when she arrives back home in England, she begins to feel the
enclosure of society back on her again. Florence is a place where she can be herself, and her home
on Summer Street in England is a place where she feels the full force of class restriction. Lucy
arrived in Florence without much of an expectation. All she knew is that she wanted to experience
things like she never had before. Her cousin and chaperone for the trip, Miss Bartlett, insisted on
protecting her so she wouldn't upset Lucy's mother. Lucy, however, wanted to feel the winds of
independence roll over her, and convinced her cousin to loosen the reigns on her a bit. After an
incident in which Lucy had her guidebook stolen from her, she was left alone on the streets of
Florence, with nothing but herself standing in her way. Florence was described as "a magic city
where people thought and did the most extraordinary things" that has "the power, perhaps, to evoke
passions, good and bad, and bring them speedily to a fulfillment" (Page 55). Lucy began to feel this
"magic" of Florence in full force, especially as she became involved with George Emerson, a young
man she had met there. George was of particular interest to Lucy, as he was "trustworthy, intelligent,
and even kind" (Page 44). She shared her first kiss with him, albeit somewhat surprisingly, and even
more surprisingly, witnessed a murder in the streets. Things like this could have never happened for
Lucy in her hometown. The excitement, the passion, the freedom, all are things she longed for living
in protection. All of this came to a screeching halt for Lucy, however, when it was time to return
home to England. After a few months elsewhere in Italy, Lucy returned home with a man named
Cecil she had met and was now engaged to marry. To her dismay, she saw very quickly what

The Lilly Kane Murder Trial Interest
She waits for Saturday before she stalks Aaron Echolls again. Digging up his credit history, fine, she
could do that between classes. Phone logs were a little sketchier, apparently Mr. Echolls had up to
three cell phones, she would have to talk to Logan about that. And internet info... She was put off
enough by the number of times people in that house Google–d themselves, she didn't have time to
stomach the porn. The Lilly Kane murder trial interest was morbid, but she figured she could relate.
Going back months, there were searches about Lilly. She might talk to Logan about that, too.
She makes sure her outfit is just this side of slutty, and when paparazzis ebb their way off the
Echolls' set trailer, Veronica knocks, ready to ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
He talks, all the wisdom and false modesty of a man trying to impress, and she jots his answers on
her notepad so she doesn't have to reveal the recorder in her bag. It's not like she expects him to tell
her he's dating a sixteen year old, who's also been dating his son, but she likes to have the audio, just
in case. Her eyes spot two wine glasses that tell him he probably had company this morning or was
expecting company later, and she tucks that into her memory.
"Can I use your bathroom?" She interrupts cheerily, and he obliges, even as she's calling him stupid
in her head.
His trailer bathroom has a stash of barely–concealed pill bottles she snaps pictures of with the water
running, and the showers wet, which could mean nothing at all. She catches her own eyes in the
bathroom mirror, noticing her eyebrows are getting a little wild–child, and thinks about how Lilly
would've teased her into tweezing, and just smoothes them. When she's sure she has everything
Aaron's willing to give her, she excuses herself out, getting his phone number for any follow ups.
Curiosity piqued, before she's even back to the LeBaron she's trying to calculate which number he's
given her.
Stopping home to change, prep school cleavage won't be necessary for at least the rest

Essay on Messages Revealed in Annie Dillard's, An American...
In An American Childhood by Annie Dillard, Dillard reminisces on her many adventures throughout
her childhood living in Pittsburgh. Her stories explain her school, her home life, her family, and
growing up. Dillard also talks about changes in her life, and how they affect her, and how she felt
about others around her. One's childhood is a crucial part of life, because it's a time of learning more
than any other time of life. Childhood is a time of curiosity and realization. What you learn in your
childhood has a big impact on how you make decisions and act as an adult. One message that I
found while reading An American Childhood is that life is sometimes not what it seems. Annie
Dillard explained this concept when she said, "The ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I would not let this happen to me." (Dillard, P.26) She had realized how people's youthful
appearance deteriorate as they aged. It kind of scared her, because she didn't want it happening to
her. Another difference Dillard observed was religion. She disliked the Catholic schoolchildren,
because she was afraid of their beliefs. She expressed thoughts on how uptight the religion was
compared to her own when she said "Whatever the pope said, I thought it was no prize, it didn't
work, our Protestant lives were much sunnier, without our half trying." (Dillard, P. 33). She also
talked about changes in Pittsburgh's appearance. "City workers continually paved the streets, They
poured asphalt over the streetcar tracks, streetcar tracks their fathers had wormed between the old
riverworn cobblestones, cobblestones laid smack into the notorious nineteenth–century mud." This
message is important because after childhood, you start to grow more aware of the world around
you, which is a big change. Children are often oblivious to changes, but as you get older, you notice
how things change more up–close and personal. Throughout An American Childhood, Dillard
expresses how significant history of various subjects are. "We children lived and breathed our
history–our Pittsburgh history, so crucial to the country's story and so typical of it as well–without
knowing for believing any of it."

Calixta As Depicted In The Storm By Kate Chopin
Do you know that stormy weather that makes you want to get comfortable? In this story, the main
character, Calixta, is interrelated with the setting of the story, "The Storm" by Kate Chopin. In "The
Storm", setting plays the role as a catalyst that ignites Alcee's and Calixta's passion that then runs
parallel with the storm. As their relationship builds together, Calixta's natural desires become
fulfilled; which without an outlet on the ability to express our emotions and natural desires, conflicts
and storms result in our lives. In the beginning of the story, Calixta is very much into her "mom"
and "wife" roles; house chores, laundry, and sewing. As a wife and mom, she has a role that not only
her son and husband expect, but society expects as well. Calixta is expected to take care of her
family around the house; and if something in her nature goes bad, others become worried. For
example, towards the end of the story, Bobinot and Bibi are "trudging" home. "Bobinot and Bibi,
trudging home, stopped without at the cistern to make themselves presentable. 'My! Bibi, w'at will
yo' mama say! You ought to be ashame'. You oughtn' put on those good pants. Look at 'em! An' that
mud on yo' collar! How you got that mud on yo' collar, Bibi? I never saw such a boy'" (Chopin 125–
126). After analyzing this piece of text, it shows how Calixta may act when she sees them walk into
the door, dirty as they were. "W'at will yo' mama say!", shows how she takes her "mom" and "wife"
role

Analysis Of The Movie ' I Can Get My Own ! '
over and said, "Sounds like you two are having fun." He flashed Maggie a smile that turned her
drunken pink cheeks red. "We are," she giggled picking up her drink and sipping it dry. "You're out,"
he said. "Let me go get you another." Daniel began to feel like he was sobering up in a matter of
seconds. He hated when this happened, and with Maggie it happened quite a lot. Send him away, he
mentally told her. "I can get my own!" Maggie replied giggling. Daniel couldn't tell if she was
trying to flirt. "I'll go to the bar with you then, I need a drink, too." Before Daniel knew it, the man
stood up and headed toward the bar with Maggie tailing behind him. He finished his drink in a few
big gulps and hoped Maggie would remember to get him one, too even though he had a feeling she
had forgotten about him. They leaned against the bar, laughing, talking, not bothering to get the
bartender's attention. He said something that made her throw her head back, laugh, shake her hair
and give him a big smile. She said something back to him and gently rested her hand on his bicep.
Typical. Daniel wasn't jealous of what was going on. Daniel was pissed that Maggie just left him,
mid conversation, for a stranger. He felt awkward sat at the table by himself. And if they came back,
he would feel like a third wheel no one needed. When this happened back in London, he would just
tell Maggie he was tired and would go home early which he couldn't do here. He was stuck and they
weren't

Personal Narrative-Stilettos
Stilettos smacked against the side walk to the beat of a melody pounding against her ear drums. Red
hair flew behind her like a blow torch searing everything that came close to it, burning edges of the
people slinking down the street. Eyes lingered on her body longer than any man's fingers ever
would. My face grows hot with resentment. BEEEEEEP! The horn of a car wakes me from my
devoted, delusional day dream. I flash him a light wave saying a sarcastic "thanks for making me
lose sight of her". Creeping along the road my heart raced, as cars that swerved by, shooting looks
like bullets through my windshield. Skyscrapers loomed over me for miles in all ways, just as the
devil on my shoulder. Claws dug into the fleshy skin along my neck and ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
I remember when those lifeless eyes used to gaze at me; planning their next execution and ignoring
every word that dripped like honey from my lips. I was hers in fractions. Reminiscing on the way
her digits feverously gripped into my unkempt bicep. She was now mirroring her actions with a
replica of me. "I bet he doesn't know her schedule as well as you do. Or spend as much time
memorizing her." The words beat into my ear like a coach, prepping me for my final match. "Look
at the way he's looking at her, like she's an animal." The devil on my shoulder sneered his last
encouraging words. The world blurred around me as I stalked towards her. I slammed my shoulder
against the man in front of her in attempt to get her attention. "What the hell?" she questioned. It
worked.
"I could be asking you the same thing. Who is he?" I used all of the power within myself not to
stutter.
"Who is he? Who are you?" Her words shot at me like daggers. Each question made me step back.
"Veronica, what do you mean? How could you have forgotten about me already? We got lunch
together a month ago," I whined, hoping that I had meant more to her than she

My Role Model In My Life
Most life changing events happen with someone whom you truly trust. It is easy to ignore people,
withdraw, and not form relationships built on love and reliance. I have truly grown closer to my role
model in my life. Matt Harp, my role model, is a man of truth, integrity, love, selflessness, and
compassion. Many different times he surprised me with how he acted, spoke and thought. I clearly
saw the Lord lead his life, and his actions revealed as much. I wanted to follow his example. He led
me through junior high, what was definitely the toughest part of my life. Looking back, I can only
imagine what would have happened in my life if I had not grown to trust this honorable man. There
are many different times where Matt taught me a life lesson, but these three are the most prominent.
He taught me how to be unique, be yourself, always be willing to share, and to never give up, even
when you are tired. As a groovy guy, my small group leader always wore what the coolest clothes. I
loved to talk to him about it. I said "I love your style. Where do you buy your clothes?" Many
different times, I wore similar clothes to him. I started wearing unique socks, colored jeans, and
many other things. He took more notice than I realized. One day he took me aside and said "You
don't have to live exactly like someone else, you just need to be you." He insisted, saying "don't just
copy me because you like the way that I dress, find your own groove." I took these small statements
to heart.

Growing Up In Space: A Narrative Fiction
Late one night the full moon spills its silver light upon to frozen streets illuminating the purple fog
swirling up through the grates on the side of the street. Huge masses of the fog push its way up
through the manholes in the streets. Slowly at first and then faster and faster the fog covers every
inch of the ground. Working its way up toward the sky above houses and power lines drowning out
the silver light of the moon. Shane wakes with a start when he hears Molly scratching at his door.
"Stupid dog," he mutters as he gets out of bed to let her in. The moment Shane opens the door,
Molly goes berserk and rushes down the stairs barking. Confused and tired he slowly followed
Molly to see why she's being so crazy. When ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Shane got up and went over to where she was sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees and
crying. He pulled her to her feet and said "Hannah you need to calm down if you get all worked up
we won't be able to make a plan to get out of here okay." She shook her head and dried her tears.
"Okay,now where are the police cars parked?" he asks while looking around for keys and finds them
on a hook on the wall. "They should be just around the corner in the parking lot." Hannah answered.
Then the screaming stops all at once. Hannah and Shane looked at each other and exchanged a look.
"Lets leave now before the come back we have to be quick okay I need you to lead because if we're
attacked I can fight them off." Hannah nods and they head for the back door. "On three ok one
...two...three!" Shane threw open the door and they bolte out running as fast as they can. Shane
could see the corner where they need turn but out of the corner of his eye he saw a crowd of people
made up of about fifty. "Hannah there behind us we have to hurry!" Shane says at the same moment
Hannah

Personal Narrative Essay: Kaila Didn T Cry
Kaila loved plays and musicals. She had been in them ever since she was able to walk and talk. She
was now in 7th grade. It was a Monday morning and she was on her way to get her audition sheet
for the fall play The Wizard Of Oz On her way, she bumped into someone. Kaila tripped. "I"m
sorry" she said, turning to see who she crossed paths with. It was Vivian. Vivian was a girl who
despised Kaila, and Kaila despised her back. Kaila had been in plays with Vivian before, and she
always does anything she can to embarrass Kaila. They became like this over a simple boy in the 4th
grade. And it turned into an endless war. As she was trying to apologize, she saw something that
made her jaw drop. Vivian had an audition sheet for the play. "Watch it!" Vivian said, wiping her
hair back. Kaila jumped. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
With that, Kaila stormed out of the auditorium. Wednesday came before she knew it. It was there
first practice. Kaila slouched into the auditorium and sunk into a chair. Kaila, normally loved the
sounds of the auditorium, like the buzz of the conversation, the switches of lights, especially the
curtain opening and closing. Kaila wanted it all to shut up. Kaila saw Mr. Oak come over. "Hi Kaila,
are you ready to practice?" he asked. "I guess" Kaila murmured. "Well, here is your script, you can
have it for the first three weeks of practice, now come on, we're ready to start!" Mr. Oak said as her
got Kaila out of her chair. As she was walking backstage, she thought about "The Magical Rose"
and how Vivian ruined it for her. Then, Kaila got an idea. What if I did the same thing to Vivian!
Kaila rushed backstage and got ready. Kaila and VIvian stood on stage. They started to walk
upstage. Vivian pretended to open a door. "Oh Toto!" Vivian said. "I don't think we're in Kansas
any– ahhh!" Kaila grabbed onto Vivian's foot, and she fell to the floor. "Oh! are you ok?" Kaila
shouted looking concerned. Vivian's face turned bright

Reflection Paper On Thanksgiving
Every Year exactly one week before thanksgiving my entire family comes over for dinner at our
house. We all sit down and eat thanksgiving food while we talk about our plans for the rest of the
year. Most of my family look alike, they all have brown hair and brown eyes. My brother, Brandon,
and I were an exception, we have green eyes and long dark brown hair, I never thought about it too
much, my mom always told us that we were special. As we enjoyed our dinner and laughed
lightning struck and the power went out. "Everyone stay calm," my mom said in the room of
complete silence. There was a gleaming light under the table, I reached out to touch it, do to my
curiosity. As my hand approached the light the power came back on.
I was staring at the exact place where the light appeared when my aunt called after my dad, "Mike!
Mike! Where are you!," everyone in the room began to panick. My mom didn't seem worried that
my dad was miraculously missing. "Dinner is over everyone! Not to worry Mike is upstairs right
now enjoying a nap, it was great seeing you all have a nice night," Everyone calmed down to the
sound of my mom's soothing voice. Everyone began to get up and leave one by one. My mom
closed the door behind everyone and turned around, her face quickly transformed to the way
everyone reacted when they though my dad was missing. "What's wrong mom, is everything ok," I
asked genuinely afraid of the answer.
"Mom!," Brandon joined in on my fear.
"I need you guys to listen

Car Ride Laurel Monologue
"Shit... Fuck... What did you do?" She mumbled under her breath as she pushed the male from the
generator. "You fried it... How did you do that?" She turned her head to look over at the male, her
brow slightly raised. "I thought I told you to keep an eye on it so it wouldn't overload?" She turned
around not allowing the man to answer her questions, she could careless what excuse he had. She
throw her hands up into the air, a groan escaped her lips. She squatted down and began removing
the front of the generator that protected the circuit board. "You better pray I can fix this." She stated
in an annoyed vice. She shook her head slightly when she removed the cover to expose the circuit
board, it was also fried. She was expecting to see this but she also hoped and prayed it would be this
bad. She shook her head once again, turned and ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Partly because she was embarrassed and made a complete ass out of herself and the other because
she didn't feel like speaking. They spoke though, they spoke a lot. Even the dumbass who caused the
generator to break, she learned the reason he let it overload. He was too busy messing around with
his girl, it's amazing what you hear when those around you think you are a sleep. She smiled to
herself, she would take care of him later. Most likely tell Ryder and have him deal with the guy. She
nearly slide out of her seat when the car came to a stop, she lifted her head and looked at the male.
"Worn someone when you are going to break the car so damn sudden." She shouted at him. "I could
have been killed." She rolled her eyes. She knew she really wasn't going to die but she could get
badly hurt. "Why did you stop anyways we aren't..." She turned her head to look out the window,
she cocked her head to the side. She arched her brow a little. "Now that's something you don't see
every day." She spoke aloud so every in the car could hear

How To Write A Short Story: The Handmaid's Tale
Zan heard a scream in the beginning before the sun rise from the east towards where Sata had ran
from there to get to him. From which he knew she was acquiring food from in the region as she had
told him this. The veil of night was beginning to part, The sound he was able to recognize as her
voice. He raced towards the voice that had come from there, he wondered where she was. Tearing
through the woods in search of the answer. The brush that was there, did not impede him as he tore
through it. The branches tore at his clothing, they snapped and burst as he flew through them, he
saw her Sata She lay there in a crumpled mass, her bones looked as though they had not been
broken. She had been fortunate, that they hadn't been broken. She lay there, her clothing had been
ravaged by something or someone. She lay there. 'Was she alive, what had ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
His name was Kakaleas he was plump, quick with his hands and wit. Kakaleas stood amongst the
other merchants, as if he was none the better, but Zan knew, he was a great deal better than they
were at what he was able to do. Kakaleas was rumored to have slain a man who pursued his wife, by
a means unheard of. He had been killed by an asp, is his bed. His guards were found in the
community, blind. Their eyes had been removed from their heads, gouged out. Kakaleas acquired
the man's daughter as a payment for his actions in pursuing his wife. He turned her into a cut purse
to regain her freedom from him. He still knew where to find her, if he sought her, that is. When he
found Kakaleas the man was plump, his garments were the finest satin, on his hip road a scimitar,
and short sword, about him stood others of his employ to over see his sales. There was a cart filled
with spices, silks and satin. He was bald, a goatee dangled from his chin, his jowls were thin, his
eyes were piercing and purple. His left hand was larger by far than his right. Purt nose, large

Pheonix Jackson Essay
Phoenix Jackson One could view Phoenix Jackson as an old granny who might be a little crazy in
the head. Another could describe Phoenix as a frail elderly woman who has lived through a lot of
life's history. Either accusation could probably be proven true to a certain degree. Phoenix Jackson
carries those traits along with many more. Phoenix Jackson was a free–spirited, caring, and gentle
elderly Negro woman who lived only to save her grandson's life. Phoenix Jackson was a tough
woman for her age. Living only with her sick grandson, Phoenix had little company and ... Show
more content on Helpwriting.net ...
First off, she is making this journey in the middle of winter with no proper clothing, shoes, or
equipment. She goes on this journey fully aware that if something would happen to her, no one
possible would find her. This journey is not on a set path where people travel daily, yet a worn path
made her own. Phoenix's body is worn and giving away, yet time again she hikes herself up the hill,
crosses the creek, crawls under the barbed wire fence, and puts up with the criticism the hunter piles
upon her. By these moves, the author has proven to us how determined and driven this woman is to
make the journey to town for her grandson whom she lives to love and care for. Phoenix Jackson
has a bubbly personality and loves to chat. One reason for her ongoing chitchat could be her
loneliness. Only living with her young grandson for out from town, she has no one to communicate
or socialize with. Phoenix openly communicates with the forest animals through warnings. "Out of
my way all you foxes, owls, beetles, jackrabbits, coons, and wild animals!" She warns them not to
cross paths with her. Through the maze of corn, Phoenix mistakes a scarecrow for a ghost. After
realizing her mix up she starts talking to it. "You Scarecrow. I ought to be shut up for good. My
sense is gone. I too old. I the oldest people I ever know. Dance old scarecrow, while I dance with
you." She chats with the

Tiffany's Ribs: A Narrative Fiction
Behind her, a small portion of the ground amongst the jungle's plants had raised slightly. A hatch
had barely opened. Two black eyes focused on its target. A bamboo reed extended from its opening.
A powerful breath a tiny object flew from the reed with precision, striking the vein in her neck.
Reached up to grasp it, but never touched it. Box in her hand dropped. Her body collapsed as if
lifeless before the sculpture.
Big strong hands attached to large, powerful arms reached out from the hatch. Grabbed both ankles
dragged their prey across rough ground. Pulled it down into the hatch where it disappeared.
Tiffany's head began to nod about as she awakens. Eyes opened to total darkness. Her wrists numb,
arms heavy, pulse leaped, realizing she ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Her head tilted as far back as it could, soft skin of her neck seeks to avoid the point of his fingernail.
He removed it. Her eyes returned to level meeting a grin on the face of death.
Preoccupied with his ominous fingernail gave no attention to his left hand. He raised the palm of
death, in it a human skull. Deep within its eye sockets, large red stones. Its eyes level with hers. She
focused on a tiny, fiery speck inside each. Specks grew larger and more intense. She found it
impossible to look away, feeling them burn through her eyes into to her mind. The stones dimmed
until extinguished lowered his palm. A blank expression covered her face, mind unaware of what
occurred while returning from a

Photoshoot Essay
Jungkook had been on the photoshoot for only four hours, but he swore it felt a lot longer than that.
He had a long, tiring day head of him. He had 2 more schedules after this one and he couldn't wait
until the day ends.
"Jungkook, the skin care company called again. They're revising their offer again, so I'm hoping for
a better response from you this time," his manager informed him as they were preparing to go to his
next schedule.
Jungkook just nodded in response, not really caring about work right now. He didn't want Jihyo to
think that he had stopped trying. He was just dead busy with his schedule and his phone just
happened to run flat on charge today. Then again, he didn't know what number Jihyo was using.
Jungkook's next schedule ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Look! Look!" Jihyo beamed happily like a child while Jungkook was clueless as to why she was so
happy over a weird shaped rock.
"It's rare, but why are you so happy about it?" Jungkook asked as he looked at Jihyo curiously.
Jihyo frowned at him and snarled, "You really don't appreciate little things. This is like your heart,
Jungkook."
"It's a... rock?"
"Exactly. You have a stone heart."
If only Jihyo knew that Jungkook's heart was far from being stone–like. What stone bleeds and
breaks at the tiniest things that had to do with Jihyo?
As Jungkook walked towards the bench to take a seat, he noticed a couple who piqued his attention.
The woman in the black dress who was accompanied by a man seemed to be similar to Jihyo's
physique. The woman then turned her head to the guy, making her side profile visible to Jungkook.
And as if his intuitions couldn't get any wrong, it turned out to be really Jihyo.
How many times did they have to run to each other?
Looking at the man whom he recognised to be Mark, the guy with Jihyo from the bar, he couldn't
help but die a little more inside. In the public eye, they were a couple. Heck, what if Jihyo was
dating him now? Was Jungkook's actions all going to waste? Was he really not worth it? Did he
mess up that bad?
And as Jihyo looked around her, she turned around and her eyes landed on Jungkook. Shock was
evident from her face, but she didn't tear her gaze away.
The crew, the crowd and the fancy clothes was Jungkook's

A Short Story : A Story?
smoking pistol, aiming it at her. She held up her hands. He walked towards her and pressed the
barrel into her forehead. She began to cry. This was it, she thought. "Not yet," Blue said. What
seemed like an eternity passed before he pulled the pistol away. She bent down, sobbing. He
grabbed her by the hair and stood her up, forcing her into the truck. The door slammed shut behind
her like a coffin lid. Lying in the dirt, catatonic, she watched the sky lighten. The two men worked
laboriously, digging a hole in the ground next to her. She was certain they were still in the park, but
had no idea where. She thought they would go back to camp, but instead drove to the bottom of a
wide ravine. What they had done next was unspeakable. It had lasted for what seemed like hours.
She could still feel their hot breath on her neck, still heard the whispers of pleasure. There had been
pain and violation, but she felt disconnected from it, like she was watching it from afar. When they
had finished, they argued about what to do with her. She just laid there, numb. Gray huffed and
stopped digging, throwing his shovel up on the flat ground. The hole was nearly up to his neck. He
pulled himself up as Blue finished. Gray stood over her, studying her. He prodded her in the ribs
with his boot. She didn't move. He kicked harder, but she remained still. He laughed to himself,
turning back to Blue. "We broke her," He said. She snapped back to reality. His words bounced
around her skull. We

Snow Ann Beattie
"Snow" is a short story in which Ann Beattie, the author, presents an often unheard of view of her
lover. The main character, experiences the heart warming of love towards her lover rather than the
desolation of loneliness after her lover doesn't come back. Later, when the lady learns that her lover
is still out there, she knows that all hope of her lover coming back is still there. The crushing
disappointment kills her that her lover just left her out there all alone for the winter. Published in the
earlier where love was so true and courageous, the oppressive narrated nature of love in "Snow"
may well be a reflection of their love to each other. Though Beattie relates the women's story, she
does not do so in first person. Beattie reveals the story through a narrator's voice. The narrator is not
simply an observer, however. The narrator shows that the woman, for the most part, is madly in
love. (paragraph 1). It is obvious that the narrator knows more than can be physically observed.
Beattie, however, never tells the reader what really happens between her lover and her. Instead, the
reader must look into the women's actions and words in order to understand what the women feels.
The main character is held back by the feelings she had towards her lover but he didn't feel the
same. The lines of her expressions "cold settled in stages,that small curve of light was shaved from
the moon night after night, until you were no longer surprised the sky was black,that

Short Story : Chapter Essay
Zoe had gotten up and returned with her nail polish collection that she thoughtfully laid out on the
table. She sat in the chair once everything was in place just the way she liked it. "Anybody wonders
if it was Reno?" "Are you kidding me? You know Savannah was crazy about Reno, he wouldn't've
hurt her." Leah watched as Zoe picked up different shades of polish before choosing the copper
metallic color. "Yeah, but was he crazy about her? I don't like that one for you," Jasmine said to Zoe.
"Try this color." She picked out the violet sparkle and reached it to Zoe. "It goes well with your skin
color." "She's not wearing that color every day. Try this one," Leah said. "White pearl goes with
anything. And about her being crazy about Reno. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I'm just saying it's possible. Who else could it have been? He's the only one I know who had
motive," Zoe charged. "Motive?" The conversation about Reno was annoying Lynn. She wanted to
reminisce about her friend, not talking about Reno. "Yes, motives. Y'all remember that problem they
had?" Zoe reminded. "You're talking about that Facebook post?" Jasmine gave a questionable look.
"Yeah." Zoe checked her nails. They were dry. She immediately started removing the polisher with
the remover solution and sponge. "That picture told me all I needed to know about his cheating
self." Zoe was talking about a photo of Reno and some other woman he was with at some type of
family function. A family function that he didn't bother to mention to Savannah. In fact, throughout
their two–year relationship, he had never taken Savannah to meet any of his family members that he
said was states away. Not once! "Wasn't that his cousin?" Samantha grabbed the white pearl. She
held the bottle close to her hand. She'd always used natural colors. It would be a stark contrast to
what she was used to. "Try it," Zoe said. "I think it'll look good against your bright complexion."
She turned back to Samantha. "She didn't look like a cousin to me. Did you see where his hand was
on her?" "Right on her butt. Gripping it good too. A big juicy hand full. But that's not a motive,
Zoe," Leah said. "I'm not saying it's a motive, but I know it left my girl really upset. A cheating man
is capable of

Describe The Difference Between Stephanie And Jennifer
Jennifer is on the Princeton Tiger Lilies ice hockey team. She is one of the best players on the team,
and she plays strictly to the rules. Stephanie is a referee for ice hockey and officiating today's game.
Stephanie and Jennifer are sisters, Jennifer is younger than Stephanie. The job of the referee is to
keep the game safe and fair. This game is the last game in the State Finals. The Princeton Tiger
Lilies are playing against the Lady Islanders, a very aggressive team. The game is tied 2–2, in the
third period, and there has yet to be a penalty. A girl from the other team is skating as hard as she
can to catch up to Jennifer who is on breakaway, and about to score. The girl trips Jennifer, who
falls forward down onto the ice.

Elkhorn Treatment: A Case Study
On 11/03/2017 I responded to Elkhorn treatment on a complaint of a whitish powder substance
needing test for the possibility of it being an illegal drug. Upon arivail I spoke to staff members
Kendra Rose and Mary Norris. I was given a small plastic baggie with a whitish powder in it. I
tested the substance and it showed it was methamphetamine. I was told the substance was found in
the property of inmate Nicole Martell. I was told Martell had just arrived to the center and when
staff had searched her property they found the substance in a DVD case. Martell had not had any
access to her property from June of 2017 Martell had been moved around to two other jails prior to
her coming to the meth center. I contacted the Jefferson County Attorney

Death Of A Soldier: A Poem Analysis
Brutus somebody that I use to know Now and then I think of when we were together Like when you
said you felt so happy you could die Told myself that you were right for me But felt so lonely in
your company But that was love and it's an ache I still remember You can get addicted to a certain
kind of sadness Like resignation to the end, always the end So when we found that we could not
make sense Well you said that we would still be friends But I'll admit that I was glad that it was over
But you didn't have to cut me off Make out like it never happened and that we were nothing And I
don't even need your love But you treat me like a stranger and that feels so rough No you didn't
have to stoop so low Have your friends collect your records and ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
He's slightly schizophrenic Me and me and me and me agree That you are gonna pay For what you
did to me I'll get even with you I'll get even with you I'll get even with you Gonna get even with you
Ah, that's what I'm gonna do Gonna, I'm gonna, I'm gonna, gonna I'll get even with you, even with
you Ah, that's what I'm gonna do Gonna, I'm gonna, gonna, gonna, gonna I'll get even with you I'm
gonna get even with you Cortina love of my life queen Love of my life –queen you've hurt me
You've broken my heart and now you leave me Love of my life can't you see Bring it back, bring it
back Don't take it away from me, because you don't know What it means to me Love of my life
don't leave me You've taken my love, (all of my love) and now desert me Love of my life can't you
see (Please bring it back) bring it back, bring it back (back) Don't take it away from me (take it
away from me) Because you don't know (ooh ooh ooh know means to me) What it means to me
Who will remember When this is blown over And everything's all by the way – (ooh yeah) When I
grow older I will be there at your side to remind you How I still love you – (i still love you) Ooh,
back – hurry back Please bring it back home to me Because you don't know what it means to

The Importance Of Diversity In Camp Twin Lakes
Camp Twin Lakes is a camp that strives to provide a fun camp experience for children and adults
with various illnesses or disabilities. While they receive a considerable amount of applicants, the
majority of these applicants are white college–age females. Camp Twin Lakes would like to
diversify their staff. Diversity is a priority for Camp Twin Lakes because of the vast diversity of the
campers they serve. Camp Twin Lakes would like the diversity of the summer staff to be a reflection
of the diversity among their campers. Currently Camp Twin Lakes receives approximately 150
applications and they hire 80 individuals. Out of those 80 individuals hired, only 10 are persons of
color. Ineffective marketing is the main reason why they are not receiving

My Dream Home Essay
Dream Home
Like I have, if you haven't already, you will be purchasing your first house. The budgets of what you
can afford will vary, and not everyone is going able to afford their dream homes that we wish we
could. Like I did some may have to find a home with potential and express their style to make it the
way they want it, and create their "dream" home. Scrolling through Pinterest, labeling a board
"future home" is what most girls do. While my "future home" may not be complete when buying it
like I wanted it to, it is now mine. I have an open canvas to work with and endless ideas to help
design everything I have ever wanted. Deciding what colors to go with for the walls, what textured
carpet to but in the bedrooms, or what floors to ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
We have arrived. Not getting out of the car, just staring at our new home. Cody then looks at me in
confusion, "Jayde, you can get out, we are here".
It is now time, I got the key. I begin turning the lock about to enter the home that I get to call my
own. My daughter crashing through the door, literally, falling as soon as we opened it. My fiancé
and I pick her up realizing her nose is full of blood.
"Jayde, go get wipes" he yells in a scarce voice.
I run to the car, because we have nothing unpacked yet, and cannot find the wipes. I run back inside
to tell him, and he has used her tiny pants to wipe up the mess. I ask if she is okay or if we need to
take her to the Emergency Room to get checked.
He looks at me, "Jayde Erica, she's a baby, she's going to fall, and she's going to get nose bleeds, she
is fine!"
"She just makes me nervous." I tell him.
With her just beginning to walk she fall all the time, then gets back up and falls again shortly after.
We got her calmed down as we still our just sitting in front of the main door and we both look at
each other and say "what the hell have we got ourselves into!"
At that exact moment my daughter, Piper yells "MA MA MA".
I look at her with a nervous face, and she just giggles. At that exact moment I have realized, you can
never take anything in life for granted.
After sitting by the front door, we decided to get up and capture the moment. That moment that will

46 In The Day-Personal Narrative

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46 In The Day-Personal Narrative