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Evaluating the link between the immune system and stress
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Summary- Everything was normal, Olivia was in her second year of college. Whereas her childhood friend Amara was struggling to even keep a job after an incident, that happened a few years prior. One morning, Olivia wakes up and finds out that there wasn't a sign of anything that she once knew. ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ ∗ It was early fall, and the leaves had just begun to fall from the trees. Although it was windy, and the sun was hidden behind the buildings surrounding my apartment, it was still warm. I had gotten home earlier than usual today. I often spent time at the library after school, but today the library was closed due to construction. I walked through the front door of my house, my roommate, Amara was sitting on the couch, watching who knows …show more content…
I was instantly was filled with relief, “Did some die??” “No, you just weren’t moving, and I got panicked,” A smile was plastered across my face, “Something is off this morning, and I guess I was too, I just thought the worst. “Okay, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” It took us a while to get out the door, and by the time we did it was already nine. We raced out of the house, trying not to miss the bus. Amara and I hardly noticed the deserted streets. Hoping that we didn’t miss it, we ran towards the train. We didn’t miss the train, although the train was empty when we got on. We glanced at each other, wondering why the train, that was always tumultuous, was now silent. “The streets were deserted earlier. I didn't think anything of it.” My voice was quiet, but audible in the silence, and my hands were shaking. I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and began looking for anything on the news. I pulled up a video, the anchorman's voice was quiet, “...stay inside, be quiet, and try to hide from them. They are fast and can kill in an instant. They have invaded the city, so please spread the information.” Amara and I were silent, standing on the train, shocked at what had
“Take me to the next town. I don’t care where it is. Just take me there.” The girl whispered, shivering and sopping wet from the rain.
“I envied the people in the train because they seemed to be going somewhere” (Lesley,7).
The person that I see as a person of passion would have to be Lauren Fristrom. Lauren is my cousin who is 30 years old and is a Registered Nurse. I chose her because this Thanksgiving she had asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her that I have need to make the decision between a Veterinarian and a Registered Nurse. She asked me, “Which job interested you more”. I told her that I loved to help people and animals, but I had no idea which job I would have more fun and experiences with.
He told me he'd be back at ten. It was already midnight. I was worried about him but more curious as to what he was doing right now. I decided it was time to find out. I crept out the apartment like a spider in the shadows, trying my hardest not to disturb
The night before, I didn’t practice my English so I knew what to say. By now, I knew most of the words, so I would just let my heart guide me. Besides, my cramped old house, which is actually just a junky garage in an abandoned alley, is too small to let out my feelings. Once I got to school after a cold walk in the snow, I placed myself by her locker and waited. Fourteen minutes had gone by, and still no sign of Lily. I only had a minute to get to class now, so I hurriedly collected myself and ran to my locker. I was disappointed, knowing that without Lily here, it would be the hardest day of school. I opened my locker and to my surprise a note fell to the floor. I quickly picked it up and gazed at the neat handwriting that clearly spelled my name.
“You don’t know me.” My voice sounded as unsteady as his stance. He shrugged as he chuckled; the laughter turned my blood cold. He seemed to know something I did not.
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
“Yes, can you just tell me if she is okay?” I grew impatient with her.
Identity-“Ones personal qualities.”Identiy is something only he or she can fully define. My uncle says I am affectionate,cheerful, and calm. My grandmother sees me as slim, pretty and sweet. My dad described me as perky, cheerful and happy, my mom says beautiful, gentle, and self-conscious. These adjectives describe me accurately, yet they are only abstract versions of me. Adjectives cannot begin to describe me and I aknowlege these descriptions for what they are, a condensed translation from my outward self to the world. It is impossible for anyone to understand me completely because nobody has experienced the things I have. My mother has never cherished a raggedy doll named Katie and my father never spent hours upon hours making collages and scrap books for his future children. My uncle never hid in the back of a pick-up-truck and traveled four hours to New York and my grandmother has never walked hours in the rain looking for the Queen of England. My identity is something only I can define.
Happiness is fake, like something forced upon me; something not real, fabricated and I don’t like it. I’m supposed to like it though. I’m supposed to like everything the government forces on me. I feel like I’m the only person who doesn’t feel content with my life, everyone else seems to be perfect while I’m falling apart at the seams.
It was finally fall break. I was visiting my grandma for a few days. Well past dinnertime, I pulled up to the white stately home in northern rural Iowa. I parked my car, unloaded my bag and pillow, and crunched through the leaves to the front porch. The porch was just how I had seen it last; to the right, a small iron table and chairs, along with an old antique brass pole lamp, and on the left, a flowered glider that I have spent many a summer afternoon on, swaying back and forth, just thinking.
11:14 p.m.-I slowly ascend from my small wooden chair, and throw another blank sheet of paper on the already covered desk as I make my way to the door. Almost instantaneously I feel wiped of all energy and for a brief second that small bed, which I often complain of, looks homey and very welcoming. I shrug off the tiredness and sluggishly drag my feet behind me those few brief steps. Eyes blurry from weariness, I focus on a now bare area of my door which had previously been covered by a picture of something that was once funny or memorable, but now I can't seem to remember what it was. Either way, it's gone now and with pathetic intentions of finishing my homework I go to close the door. I take a peek down the hall just to assure myself one final time that there is nothing I would rather be doing and when there is nothing worth investigating, aside from a few laughs a couple rooms down, I continue to shut the door.
The conductor lifts up the steps to the train and the whistle blows, piercing my ears, reminding me soon I’ll be gone. It seems like the more time you want, the less you have—I guess you only miss it when it’s gone, only realize it’s slipping through your fingers when your hands are empty. Ruthie looks up at me, and when she does her eyes are filled with trust—trust I’ll come back to her. I don’t deserve it.
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,
“No, why? What is wrong with you? Are you sick or something?” I replied showing confusion on my face.