Didn’t a familiar proverb indicate you could comprehend a person by peering into their eyes? Anxiously terrified I stared into the crevasse of their eyes. However, glaring towards their face prompted thoughts of a lifeless star, their mouth only an empty,gaping laceration. Transfixed in a position, their chest would not budge. Arranged in a praying position, his hands hoped to reach someone. Looming overhead their frame, a visage of death. Amid an array of thoughts, I imagined a tradition initiated by the Romans, taking the flags of the conquered and laying it at the feet of the vanquisher. Instead, their frame represented a flag, while standing overhead would be the Reaper, the Vanquisher. Could I call myself human when I couldn’t yield a …show more content…
Glaring into her eyes, feeling the torment whirl within her as she nears the end, she reminisced about her life. “When we were younger, me and Bo would play hide and seek in the forest. In North Carolina, huge forests sprawled across acres of land, and I remember we found this watermelon patch not far from our house. We’d go down there and take watermelons along with any other fruit we see and run away before an old man would come out with his gun ha-ha! We’d do this for so many summers that man just started having a section of his farm just for us!” Evoked Bo’s sister. All I mustered, a light smirk, however, it only served as a facade as I listened to her story continuously I felt myself wanting to fracture into thousands of pieces. After hours of her recollection of the past, I trudged towards Bo’s room. Peeking inside, I could see cans of food with labels of the expiration dates written in sharpie scattered amid the room. Displayed on his wall, his pieces of artwork of caricatures of an assortment of creatures with phrases plucked from the bible gave his room an ambience of serenity. Though amongst his artwork were abstract pieces, filled to the brim with hearts with sayings such as, “I LOVE U GUYS FOREVER”, with my family’s name at the bottom. Biting my lip, I wanted to wail out loud, but I felt as if I couldn’t at all. Feeling dizzy, I leaned against the wall, panting heavily as …show more content…
You’d think being carbon copies, a yearning would spark between the both of you, yet, an old proverb materializes in my mind and reminds me of the lukewarm truth, affection and compatibility do not correlate. Fully remembering what transpired during the trip to visit Bo, nestled in the corner of the backseat. Squarely transfixed on my iPhone, I’d wait patiently to notice my phone’s screen to illuminate with a text message from her. Meeting at the beginning of 7th grade, I grew an affection for her, an individual who had read Anna Karenina, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, and a variety of other classics, who analyzed politics and would earnestly chat about it, willing to venture into the philosophy of life and daily tasks. We’d developed a closer tie, texting constantly as we relished conversing with each other on a daily basis, every day we would find ourselves in 6 hour conversation.Developing tenderness for her was through her tribulations. Confronting similar dilemmas bonded us, and we’d share our stories with each other, our own wistful lives. Throughout the journey to Bo’s, we’d exchange a flurry of texts; I could relive our conversations anytime during that trip. An exchange of torment, of connecting with an individual, of not sensing the idea of being solely within the abyss. Shunning an idea such as being alone is part of humanity, for who could ever remember us when were lifeless? With this particular friend, we
Symbolism is the element that plays the starring role in this production, coyly divulging the clues necessary to illuminate the reality of her psychosis. The physical triggers of said psychosis belong solely to the room she and her husband slept in; now a playroom, it had obviously gone through many other transformations as had this woman, who despised it (nursery, gym, playroom). More importantly, it is the wallpaper that has caught and held her mind's eye.
In the documentary “Leaving Bountiful”, Debbie Palmer is forced to standby while her child is taken away from her. This cruel obedience test, performed by her husband, was used to systematically strip away her moth...
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
A girl named Sierra Stokes lost her brother three years ago. He disappeared when he was going to the store alone to get cookie dough to make cookies that night and he never came back. Then there was a girl named Casey Cramer. He mother was a drunk and she did all the driving as well. Well one night her mom picked her and a few others up from the beach, and she was drunk. Her mom drove them into a “stonewall” and Casey had “trauma to her head.” (Wolitzer 102) There is a picture of a jar of strawberry jam because Reeve had given her strawberry jam at Dana’s party where they also kissed above Courtney’s, Dana sister, dollhouse. Lastly, there is a picture of a journal because in the book students write in their journals for an English class and they soon realize that they go to a place they named Belzhar. They go to this supposed “place” after they write five pages worth in their journals. This place is where they go “when they can’t take reality, because it’s too depressing.” (Wolitzer 107) They see the people/events that caused them the trauma in
Hollow eyes glanced around the pristine apartment, the gray scale color scheme seems to match the women clasping her hands together, pursing her lips and searching for approval from the girl that stood in the doorway. Automatically, the girl deduced the woman was quite wealthy, especially in the neighborhood she'd now live in. The streets were busier, filled with nicer cars instead of busted ones without their fenders falling apart at the edge. Her nimble fingers explored the wall as she took careful steps into the living room. Winnie wasn't acclimated to this life style: the wallpaper wasn't being striped at the corners, stainless carpets without nothing questionable left behind, no sign of undesirable critters, and silence. She could finally
I looked around at everyone in the room and saw the sorrow in their eyes. My eyes first fell on my grandmother, usually the beacon of strength in our family. My grandmother looked as if she had been crying for a very long period of time. Her face looked more wrinkled than before underneath the wild, white hair atop her head. The face of this once youthful person now looked like a grape that had been dried in the sun to become a raisin. Her hair looked like it had not been brushed since the previous day as if created from high wispy clouds on a bright sunny day.
Within the thin exterior of the cold dark building she called home, she wanted to keep the bodies of those in which she felt she had a connection. Whether it be a reasonable connection or not, she didn’t want to be alone. Her connection with her father brought her to keeping his corps in the house as well as the other man. Her distance from other people around her only drove her to madness causing nothing but isolation and a craving for any type of relation she could hold or be close
From a young age most people have gone through many relationships with other people who were not their family. Thus, we often acknowledge these relationships as friendships. But the word friend is too broad, so people categorize their friends to several types. In her book “Necessary Losses: The Lovers, Illusions, Dependencies and Impossible Expectations That All of Us Have to Give Up in Order to Grow”, Judith Viorst divided friendships to six types. Those are convenience friends, special Interest friends, historical friends, crossroad friends, cross-generation friends and close friends. In my life, I have been friend with many people since I was little. Although I have met all six kinds of friend of Viorst, convenience friends and close friends are two important kinds of friends in my life.
Friendship expectations play a huge role in “establishing, maintaining, and terminating friendships” thus playing a factor of ones’ interpretations and through their affiliations (West & Turner, 2016). A companionship is dependent on
Her claw like fingernails pierced into my delicate skin. Miss. Lawson was my abusive nanny who acted as my mother when she wasn’t around, which happened to be very often. Miss. Lawson had a very perplexing past that included being in the foster system for all eighteen years of her life childhood, having a miscarriage at the fresh age of twenty-five and finally, what wounded her the most, her husband, the love of her life left her. I knew that Miss. Lawson was more than just a broken hearted nanny whose mission was to make me a prisoner in my own home . She had a heart full of lost love and all she needed was someone to help her acquire it. That was going to have to be me.
“One of us is getting out alive, Eliza. You need to find your brother and bring him back home. Get into the crawlspace you two dug out, and don’t leave until this is all over and done with.” Her mother’s fierce eyes didn’t betray a single fear: She already knew she wouldn’t see the sun rise. The smell of smoke permeated the damp cellar, and it wouldn’t be long until it spread to the house proper. Squeezing into the small crawlspace dug into the wall, Eliza held off the tears as best she could. If she was going to find Claude and bring him back, she would need to stay strong. She could always cry
...arate occasions; first time in the late nineties, as a betrothed, migrating temporarily to the western state; second time four years later, a ring added, and everything else the same. She lured me into her sensuous web with promises of heathen desire. Now U2 plays and other memories from my teens and early twenties come as I race across streets, bang on cars, rush to join a crowd that I no longer see, so keen and now … different. The girl, English accent, cute in my shirt, stands on the front porch after one of the many sexual expeditions, a relationship based on sex, drunken sex, never sober, and I have the customary cigarette while two other friends sit inside my shadowy glow. They feel my passion, or the remnants.
This poem has captured a moment in time of a dynamic, tentative, and uncomfortable relationship as it is evolving. The author, having shared her thoughts, concerns, and opinion of the other party's unchanging definition of the relationship, must surely have gone on to somehow reconcile the situation to her own satisfaction. She relishes the work entailed in changing either of them, perhaps.
... thought that maybe we won’t be friends or even know each other in the future. Unexpectedly, we all had these feelings of fondness for a place we a come to despise and couldn’t wait to leave. Why would that happen to us? We all realized that in this moment we’re growing up but are far from “grown up.” Suddenly, there is a flash of light and in that moment I knew that the three of us would be separated for the rest of the day, maybe our lives. The flash brought everything back. It gave us a reason to go back into the hallway and meaninglessly chat with our friends. After we left that room we were still sharing a moment together but in a different sort of way. The picture was there and we had superficial thoughts but the graduation was so much more. It marked a major time in our lives and sent us off into the future. No longer were we the next generation because we were being sent off into the grown up world. Would we all still be appreciated? How is the world going to receive three naive girls who don’t know anything? All these questions were to be asked and to be forgotten because we got caught up in the moment. The picture marks that time in our past and an important time it was.
Relationships, especially close and trusting relationships, are very important for the positive, social and psychological growth of the individuals involved in the relationship. In our world, people in close relationships desire physical contact, emotional support, acceptance, and love. These traits and feelings are part of human nature, and people strive for these types of interpersonal relationships in order to fulfill the void in people’s lives and, above all, to make sense of live through trust, sharing, and caring. During my high school experience, I have met many interesting people in the classroom, as well as in sporting events. I made many new friends in sporting events and during school. Although none of these relationship ever turned into an intimate relationship, each relationship had different turning points. Mark Knapp suggest that interpersonal relationships develop through several stages. My relationship with my best friend, Sisalee, has gone through the coming together stages initiating, experimenting, intensifying, and integrating.