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“Okay”,I said smiling at Caesar to reassure him. But, Amberly really needed more reassurance. She did everything selflessly because that was who she was, so leaving her eleven year-old brother might not be something within her ability. Amberly glanced down at her watch it was 11:59 and she could feel herself fading away. Amberly tried to stare at Caesar with intense concentration so maybe if she tried hard enough she wouldn’t have to leave him. It didn’t work, and the edges around Amberly’s vision went black as she looked down at herself to see her arms fading away into colored air. Caesar grasped her hand as a tear slowly fell down her cheek. Caesar slowly disappeared as she felt his hold on her hand slip away as he faded away into pitch blackness. Caesar smiled to calm her down because he knew she couldn’t be upset for Ben. As soon as Amberly left, Caesar walked over to the wall and slid down it and reached over to grab Amberly’s sweater. He sat there as time passed and played with the material. He already missed her and …show more content…
She reached her hands up to her eyes to wipe away the sleep. She twisted to stretch her back, feeling the soreness of falling after running into Caesar. She replayed the conversation that they had yesterday. Caesar was lying, she knew how much he needed her. At Caesar's other life he was abused and he had just recently gotten out of depression. If she left and she set him into a backward spiral she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. Noticing the late time, she pulled herself out of her thoughts and lazily pushed away the rough, vintage comforter and tiptoed across the cold wooden floor over to Ben's bed. She shook him awake trying to be gentle as he awoke softy to reveal his chocolate brown eyes. Ben let out a soft groan and rolled
Theodore Roosevelt was right. "It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit”, said Roosevelt, “belongs to the man who is actually in the arena." This man has the values of courage, tenacity, and…vulnerability. This man even through occasional defeat, succeeds because he confronts his fears, because he isn’t afraid of being vulnerable. Unfortunately, many of us – men and women - haven't yet entered the arena. Why? Because, we make ourselves wait until we believe we are "perfect", fully ready. Too often, this time lost squanders potential experiences and relationships. University of Houston's Dr. Brené Brown defines vulnerability as uncertainty, risk, and emotional exposure. In her NYTIMES bestseller, "Daring Greatly", Dr. Brown contends, "We equate vulnerability with weakness and poison. Whereas vulnerability is actually the birthplace of joy, love, and empathy".
In The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, Holden is in a rest home, where he speaks about his past and discusses his thoughts and feelings of his memories. Holden tells about his life including his past experiences at many different private schools, most recently Pensey Prep, his friends, and his late brother Allie which led to Holden’s own mental destruction.
He just turned and left without a word. I touched Lennie’s grave. The rough touch of the wood deflecting to my fingers. I walked back to the ranch. Everyone was asleep. I wanted to run away tomorrow but I couldn’t let this chance pass up. It also prevented any chance of Candy following me. I tiptoed out of the room and went straight to the woods. I made sure to mix myself in with the shadows of the trees. I saw the river and It felt like I did it...until I felt something grab me by my neck. I quickly got flipped over and pushed to the ground.
Similarly, Bathsheba of Far from the Madding Crowd is destined to suffer and lead a miserable life. Bathsheba Everdene is paying a visit to her aunt and is seen by Gabriel Oak, a hardworking farmer. He falls in love with her and proposes to marry her but she declines his offer. Afterwards, Oak loses his sheep and becomes very poor. So he moves to Casterbridge in search for a job. He chances to arrive at the outbreak of a fire in Bathsheba’s farm and he puts it out. She offers to hire him as a shepherd and he agrees. In the meantime, she tries to attract Mr. William Boldwood but he is not interested in her and she comes to marry Sergeant Troy, a deceitful and inconsiderate husband. He squanders her money on gambling. He used to love Fanny Robin before getting married to Bathsheba and he chances to see her one day between Casterbridge and Weatherbury. He decides to go to her and help her but he finds her and her child dead. Feeling desperate, he quarrels with Bathsheba and leaves for America. Thinking that she is now a widow, Bathsheba decides to marry Boldwood. However, Troy returns a...
Her lungs burnt and her breath caught in her throat. Every second she wasted was a second closer to losing him. Then she saw him, a distorted shadow in the moonlight. She cried out his name again through chapped lips. Tears pooled in her eyes, like a gentle ocean resembling her bleeding heart. Mascara smudged around her cheeks like charcoal. She stumbled forwards, her legs threatening to give way. Rough edged rocks tore at her clothes, slashing her trousers like something in a horror movie. But she had to keep going. After all they had been through, she couldn’t lose him now. Not
America during the 1940s and into the 1950s saw post-war prosperity, the introduction of household conveniences such the modern CPI and the washing machine, and an increase of enrollment into prep schools. Novelist J.D. Salinger uses his own experiences and the emotional impact they had as major influences on his work. Salinger’s life of solitude, military service in WWII and the childhood he spent as a prep school student is reflected directly through the actions and thoughts of Salinger’s most recognized character, Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye.
“You had a seizure last night and now your cancer has spread to your lungs and stomach… You are going to die in a couple days, I’m sorry Ben.” All he could think was where is Violet. He hadn’t seen her in a couple days and he was wondering where she was. He asked his mom where that girls was that everyone was talking about. “Oh Ben, she passed away last night like right when you had your seizure..” Ben dropped to his knees and started to cry. “It is going to be okay, she was really sick and she is in a better place now and out of her misery.” His mom tried so hard to get him off the floor, but he just
The sound of her son’s voice brought her to tears. She did not know how to respond to losing her child. She falls to the floor. She could barely move. Her exhaustion has taken over. Her body was drain of every bit of strength she could muster. She strains her neck looking up to Colet. He tries to help her up, but she did not want his assistance.
I shook my head, ashamed for invading my friends’ tragedies with memories I conjured up by their descriptions of them. I was still staring at Alice’s relaxed posture. The frown on her face was evident even while she rested unconscious with wrinkles near her seventeen year old eyes. I could still see the scar from stitches. Vesper shifted under the blankets on Alice’s couch. He was missing a father while Sebastian and I were missing a mother. But Alice was missing the two people that had given her life and left while she was living it. A trust fund was left in their
Pulling the vanilla ice cream out of the freezer, Lydia scoops herself a bowl, then sat down with her brother at the tan wood dinner table. She tied back her wet-brown curls and starts on her ice cream. Minutes later Aaron got up and quietly puts his bowl and spoon on the counter, then heads upstairs to go to bed without so much as a word. "How odd" Lydia pondered "Going to bed without being forced to? Not even telling me goodnight?" Huffing, Lydia stands up to put her dishes away.
Our eyes locked, as tears streamed down her sullen face. She was a petite woman with heavy dark eyes, revealing her struggle, her pain, and a hope for a better life. She cradled her infant gently, yet firmly as if it was her last breath. With every sway, she kissed her child’s head as a promissory note that she would take care of her and provide for her the world.
It felt so dragged out because all I wanted was to see him and tell him the news. Our connection felt different, phone calls were made shorter and they weren’t as frequent. I missed him. Two nights had gone by without a phone call or even a message. This wasn’t typical of Luke. I was becoming increasingly worried. I tried to distract myself from the situation and went to Atlanta to visit my parent’s for the weekend. This provided a distraction from my despair. When I arrived home, the flat fell silent. I sat aimlessly on the sofa, starring at the telephone, hoping that maybe it would ring. I tried turning my television on but I was oblivious to anything around me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I knew something was wrong. Fifty-five minutes passed, as I stared at the phone. That was when I heard it
“He’s not asleep,” Said a gravely male voice which caused Shawn’s heart to skip a beat. “Look at his heart monitor, Lilith; it proves he is awake.” The man said. Shawn heard light feminine footsteps get closer to his bed and a hand grabbed his chin by one hand and a slightly damp rag was placed over his nose and mouth by the other. Shawn’s eyes snapped open and he saw a young woman with slightly crazed blue eyes and a large just as crazy grin holding the damp rag over his mouth. Shawn started to struggle but soon his struggles weakened and he slipped into darkness.
A man or novelist Thomas Hardy was a very successful man who had an interesting birth, the schools he attended, Hardy’s career, his personal life, death, and Thomas’ appreciations.
She slammed the door behind her. Her face was hot as she grabbed her new perfume and flung it forcefully against the wall. That was the perfume that he had bought for her. She didn't want it anymore. His voice coaxed from the other side of the door. She shouted at him to get away. Throwing herself on the bed and covering her face with one of his shirts, she cried. His voice coaxed constantly, saying Carol, let me in. Let me explain.' She shouted out no!' Then cried some more. Time passed with each sob she made. When she caught herself, there was no sound on the other side of the door. A long silence stood between her and the door. Maybe she had been too hard on him, she thought. Maybe he really had a good explanation. She hesitated before she walked toward the door and twisted the handle. Her heart was crying out to her at this moment. He wasn't there. She called out his name. "Thomas!" Her cries were interrupted by the revving of an engine in the garage. She made it to the window in time to see his Volvo back out the yard. "Thomas! Thomas....wait!" Her cries vanished into thin air as the Volvo disappeared around the bend. Carol grew really angry all of a sudden. How could he leave? He'll sleep on the couch when he gets back. Those were her thoughts.