David
The chaos from my teenage sister’s birthday party was deafening. Somehow through the noise, I registered that the phone was ringing. Jumping up, my sister answered it in hopes of hearing her boyfriend’s voice. A look of concern and confusion crossed her face as she handed me the phone. She mouthed the word "David" as I placed the receiver to my ear. Immediately I began fighting off a panic I could not yet explain. Dead. David. Crying and screaming assaulted my senses. "He's dead. He's dead," were all I could hear. I wondered briefly if this was someone’s idea of a cruel joke. But, within moments, the cold reality of this life changing nightmare set in.
How could something like this happen to someone I was so close to? I had just talked to him that morning. We were supposed to meet up later to hang out like always. My heart hurt; I couldn’t breathe. It was like I was stuck in a bad movie and I couldn’t turn it off. The tears just wouldn’t stop. I had to see for myself. I slipped my shoes on, grabbed my keys, and rushed to my car.
The drive to David’s house was agonizing. I could barely see the road through my tears. The whole drive my mind was racing, trying to grasp the reality of what just happened. Once I got there and saw the ambulances, the policemen, and the look in his family’s eyes it hit me like a ton of bricks. He was really gone and not coming back. I've never seen a body bag with a real body in it. Not in real life and not with one of my friends inside. But there he was surrounded by detectives as the Emergency medical technicians were loading him into the ambulance. I'll never be able to erase that image from my mind and believe me, I have tried.
David was a close friend of mine. We had known each other since elementary school. He was the one that could make me laugh nonstop and without even trying to. I could always depend on him to lift my spirits. He had the most amazing caramel eyes that seemed liked they stared into your soul.
I woke up at John Morris’ house, on his coach. As I knocked a flyaway hair out of my face I noticed my face was wet, with tears, and then it all hit me at once that my Dad and Mrs. Borden were dead. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I heard John Morris ask if I was alright, but that seemed like a completely different world, I responded with a meek okay, so Mr. Morris wouldn’t see me like this. That didn’t work though, I saw his tall shadowy figure ducking under the door frame with tea. As Mr. Morris sat down and put the tea on the coffee table in front of us, I turned my head and quickly wiped the tears from my eyes in hopes he wouldn’t see.
Finally, not only did the emotional things impact Dave’s life so did the physical things. The most significant was the time his mother stabbed him on “accident.”
Within ‘Working with Evidence’, each visual source portrayed the French Revolution in different ways. To begin visual source 16.1 (The Patriotic Snack, Reunion of the Three Estates), presents three estates interacting with each other over lunch. In the background, there are five peasants hunting, which might have been a common thing in France before the revolution. Located by the name of the source is the date the picture was created (August 4, 1789), which is the year the revolution began. This source portrays the equality of all men, presenting a positive view of the revolution. In visual source 16.2 (A Reversal of Roles: The Three Estates of Revolutionary France), the view of the revolution shifted. The third estate (peasant) is breaking
France was a nation ruled by an absolute monarch who had power beyond the grasp of any peasant, and just out of the reach of the aristocracy. King Louis XIV (1774 - 1791) of France was not willing to give up his monopoly that had existed for seventeen years. It was the perfect situation for his absolute government, and may have remained that way if he had been able to manage France’s finances successfully. More money had been spent on roads' canals and wars then were being collected through taxes. In addition the government lost control over the bourgeois class. The bourgeois (working class merchants) gained control by using the disorganized peasant class, members of the Third Estate, who presented their grievances in cahiers to the Estates General. The disbanding of the Estates General resulted in the formation of the new National Assembly governed by the Third Estate. This assembly wrote the Declaration of the Rights of Man and Citizens that described political changes and freedoms for the Third Estate. The constitution of 1791 also resulted in dramatic changes to the political structure. It, however, did not bring relief to those who most deserved it, the peasants. These events were the prologue to the French Revolution, the most important event in France’s history. The French Revolution was a direct result of overspending by King Louis XIV and Louis XVI, leaving France a financially unstable nation and ultimately resulting in a revolt by the Third Estate upset by the dwindling social and economic conditions.
Stories are a big part of the human race. From conceptualizing the birth of our race to nagging our parents to tell bedtime stories, our life is nothing but a series of stories. It is in human nature to narrate significant incidents of our lives to others. Storytelling as a method has been progressively used by various companies as a tool to connect with their employees and customers. It helps to build a bridge of loyalty, longevity, mutual trust and understanding and connection. Storytelling helps to get that instant personal connect. Stories are significant because they are inherent to human experience. By stories we pass on our accumulated wisdom, beliefs and values to the future generations.
The immediate causes of the French Revolution were that the Estate-General had to convene. Increasing political pressure and being faced with the total collapse of its finances, the Old Regime began to unravel. Almost immediately tempers arose regarding voting procedures in the upcoming Estates-General. ...
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
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
Narrative Essay It all started my sophomore year of high school. People always tell you that when someone knocks you down, you should always get back up and keep trying. I had this mindset at the beginning of my sophomore year, but I ended up letting a teacher knock me down to the point where I did not get back up for a couple of years. I never expected my second year of high school to go so awry.
My stomach weakens with a thought that something is wrong, what would be the answer I could have never been ready for. I call my best friend late one night, for some reason she is the only person’s voice I wanted to hear, the only person who I wanted to tell me that everything will be okay. She answer’s the phone and tells me she loves me, as I hear the tears leak through, I ask her what is wrong. The flood gates open with only the horrid words “I can’t do this anymore”. My heart races as I tell her that I am on my way, what I was about to see will never leave my thoughts.
I finally convince myself that I can not let go of John because I never took the chances I had to tell him that he was special to me. He died earlier than anyone thought he would, and I knew him. This was supposed to happen to other people, but it is happening to me.
“Why don’t you use your locker? You’re going to have back problems before you even graduate”. These are words that are repeated to me daily, almost like clockwork. I carry my twenty-pound backpack, full of papers upon papers from my AP classes. The middle pouch of my backpack houses my book in which I get lost to distract me from my unrelenting stress. The top pouch holds several erasers, foreshadowing the mistakes I will make - and extra lead, to combat and mend these mistakes. Thick, wordy textbooks full of knowledge that has yet to become engraved in my brain, dig the straps of my backpack into my shoulders. This feeling, ironically enough, gives me relief - my potential and future success reside in my folders and on the pages of my notebooks.
The French Revolution began in 1789 and ended in 1792, though certain people include Napoleon’s reign as part of the revolution, stating it ended in 1804. It was a time of confusion, disorder, and bloodshed. The commoners of France decided that they were being treated unjustly and planned to overthrow their king. The French Revolution was a long and terrible war, which promoted democracy and equality for the people of France and resulted, not only in the death of Marie Antoinette and King Louis XVI, but with France becoming a more liberal country. This essay will investigate causes of the French Revolution such as enlightenment ideas, taxation and economical problems, and the political system of the time. It will be shown that there is not a single direct cause for the occurrence of the French Revolution, but many different reasons of varying importance.
The reckless driver hit us straight on, then “Bang!” a loud noise resonated through the air, and abruptly my body flew out and hit the pavement of the road. Everything around me was simply a white haze for a few seconds after the impact. My body felt extremely heavy and the sharp pain throbbed throughout my face and body. Lying there on the rough asphalt, I faintly heard my mom and Carrie call out to me, “Sydney! Sydney! Are you okay? Answer me! Sydney!” I wanted I speak up and answer them, nonetheless, it was useless, my voice just wouldn’t make a sound. The desperation in Carrie’s and my mom’s voices reverberated to me across from where I was lying. My mom frantically ran up to my side and hugged me tightly in her arms. Blood was squirting out of her pinky, where the top of her finger had been severed. The places where my mom’s tears fell, stung my wounds, nevertheless, it was nothing compared to each little movements that caused the pains to electrify through my body severely. Every second was hell, the pain was just utterly agonizing and tormenting. Whether it was due to the pain or the exhaustion my body suffered, my mind slowly drifted off and I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. As my eyes gradually closed, the blazing siren seemed to have grown louder little by
My heart was simply ripped apart. I could not believe it at first, but I knew I had to. After all these wonderful years and enthralling moments, I finally have to face God's greatest challenge. My mind wasn't as messy as before anymore and I couldn't even think of what to think. It seemed as if I had nothing to worry about, nothing to do, nothing to say. I was trapped inside this room waiting for the Grim Reaper to reap my innocent soul.