The splashing of rain as well as the rumbling of distant thunder made Gryphus Riddle sigh. It was Sunday evening and his pile of schoolbooks stared accusingly at him from the table. Scowling slightly, he picked up his planner and began rifling through the pages. Pause. What was that? In trepidation, he double checked to make sure all the dates were right. Oh god, he was in major trouble. He cursed to himself quietly, quickly grabbing his textbooks and straightening out his desk. Midterms were two weeks away, and it had completely slipped his mind that he had a major workload to compensate for. Grimacing at the barely-made dent he had cleared for his workspace, he set out scribbling away as fast as he could. “Tch!” he hissed suddenly, when a droplet of blood squeezed from a fresh paper cut on his finger. Grimacing, he quickly sucked away the blood and frowned. It truly wasn’t his day. He returned to his work, but before he knew it, sleep overcame him. He was in an alley. A dark, dingy one that no one wanted to be caught in, especially at night. Trying not to panic, Gryphus looked down at himself and noticed that he was dressed in a black so dark that he could almost blend into the shadows “Hey,” a voice called out from above him. Spinning around, he noticed a girl his age, sitting on top of a fire escape, about ten feet off the ground. She was dressed as he was, and his mouth fell open when she hopped down the rails to stand next to him as if ten feet were no big deal to jump from. He noticed the way she moved was sleek and fluid, like a serpent. “Uh…who are you?” he finally squeaked out. Her eyes were so blue they were almost purple, and he felt uneasy standing near her, as if she were a wild animal. His most basic instincts we... ... middle of paper ... ...just the way Fate works. I…I died a day before my 16th birthday as well. Some might say it was the worst kind of death…” She sniffled suddenly, and Gryphus noticed the film of glassy tears decorating her lashes. “How…how did you die?” he queried. She sneered at him. The wind grew stronger again and the tables began to rattle. “Too late.” She whispered. “It’s too late.” He was facing a new person. This time, a boy, and he was smiling. “Before you ask, Gryphus, my name is Christopher Anathema. We only have a few moments. You must choose. Immediately.” Gryphus shook his head wildly, “No, no! I refuse to die! This is just a dream, isn’t it? I was doing homework and I fell asleep!” he breathed desperately. Christopher regarded him sadly. “It’s time for you to choose.” he repeated. “You can’t cheat Fate.” Gryphus frowned in contemplation. Nodding, his decision was made.
Our backs hunched over as we started lifting sustainable sandbags with our drained muscular arms onto a dark wooden shelf. The scorching sun heated up the unswept metal fence behind us. Our feet were burning as we stood on the blistering concrete floor. We were sweating from every inch of our dried out body’s. Looking around the isolated area the smell of freshly cut grass starts to fill up in the atmosphere. The crinkled brown autumn leaves abandoned the thin branches sticking out from the ancient oak tree stood in front of us. A mysterious slim figure approached us from the distance. As the strange shadow got closer to me I could see a velvet red knee high dress blowing in the wind; bright red lipstick on a slim face, it became clear to me that it was Curley’s wife! Her devilish eyes looked deep into our sole as she stroked silky, exotic hair with her perfectly painted, red finger nails. “Hey boys” she called. I looked away with no interest; Lennie followed my lead. Her face went from a cheery smile to a sulky frown and she bashfully strolled
The silence was deafening… with each step, the lump in my throat was expanding, almost ridding me of all oxygen. My heart was pounding erratically and my hand, firmly gripping Scout’s costume was now soaked in perspiration. Amidst the overcast night, a dark shadow consumed Maycomb. The thick air was a blanket of humidity that offered not security, but the assurance of a storm. The pageant was but a distant memory by this point. We had only left a few minutes earlier but my thoughts were congested by an uneasy presence. The warm wind whispered through the rustling leaves. They seemed to dance about my feet, which wouldn’t have been so bad, had the night not been pitch black and unnerving. Instead, it felt as though I could tumble at any moment. I was immensely regretting my decision to reject a ride home when Scout burst,
She thought “ Things just got personal.” She had to make like she was dead for serpent would stop. She took a match and lit it on fire. She tracked him down with all the frequencies he used. “Near the beach nice.” She went in a taxi and stayed away from the penthouse he was in. He went on a cruise ship to relax she thought but she didn't know what she just walked into. It was all empty except the staff. The dining room was filled with men in expensive suits. One had a white tiger next to him. She then expected she saw serpent because he was the only boy there that wasn't a billionaire. He went on stage and said “ Hello buyers I am here to say a few words but first Black I know you're in here come out. She walked out
Many adverse events can strike us at any given point in life without any warnings. A person should not take anything in life for granted since nothing is promised. For instance, in the story of the man in “stopping by woods on a snowy evening” he may have been feeling tired or perhaps depressed, but he sets his mind to move on with his life before it’s too late. His horse, which might represent a small amount of life left in the man, gives the harness bells a shake to demonstrate how he can’t stay in the appealing woods, but he has to move on with his life. Furthermore, in the story “out, out” the boy’s sudden death reflects the tragedy of the death of a child “doing a man’s work, though a child at heart” (Frost 24). His life is compared to a “brief candle”. Once the candle is out it is gone forever, once we die there is nothing left but the same darkness and silence like that brief candle. It doesn’t matter how you look at life. Everyone’s life starts the same and ends the same. The only importance is what you do in the time in between. Death is a part of life. Without it, living would lose its
Death is something everyone must face at one point or another. For varying reasons, many people are willing to die for a certain cause. Some find that there is no other way out of their dilemma. Other feel so strongly about what they believe is right, that they are more than willing to pay the ultimate price. Moral or ethical dilemmas are pivotal devices used in many literary works. However, the literary characters explored in this essay are so firm in their convictions that they are willing to sacrifice themselves for their own respective beliefs. As readers of these works, we are often so moved by their beliefs that we often side with the characters in their journey. We, as readers, are offered insight on situations that we become deeply
It was cold outside, where a man lay. This man lay here because he had no home. His name was Chryosis. Dishonored by his family, dishonored by his friends. Dishonored, he claimed, by the Gods of Olympus themselves. He slept outside of a rich man’s house, for the man didn't care for his well being. He didn't know the man's name, nor did he care. He just needed money. So young, Chryosis was, when he his family left him, when his friends ignored him and now, for many years, He has been working for the rich man, whom he hated and, once again, didn't bother to remember the name of. So he stayed against the dying tree, where he would soon die also, or so he thought…
As I inched my way toward the cliff, my legs were shaking uncontrollably. I could feel the coldness of the rock beneath my feet when my toes curled around the edge in one last futile attempt at survival. My heart was racing like a trapped bird, desperate to escape. Gazing down the sheer drop, I nearly fainted; my entire life flashed before my eyes. I could hear stones breaking free and fiercely tumbling down the hillside, plummeting into the dark abyss of the forbidding black water. The trees began to rapidly close in around me in a suffocating clench, and the piercing screams from my friends did little to ease the pain. The cool breeze felt like needles upon my bare skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps. The threatening mountains surrounding me seemed to grow more sinister with each passing moment, I felt myself fighting for air. The hot summer sun began to blacken while misty clouds loomed overhead. Trembling with anxiety, I shut my eyes, murmuring one last pathetic prayer. I gathered my last breath, hoping it would last a lifetime, took a step back and plun...
It's dark out. The street remains quiet and the sounds of the city have faded. A woman walking down the street crosses, her heels thumping against the sidewalk. As she walks further into the night she feels a presence upon her. Suddenly the worries of the day have escaped her mind. All she can think about was the increasing echo of heavy footsteps behind her. Heart beating, she skips along the street, heels thumping with every step. She reaches a stoplight, and her heels come skidding to a stop. Her chest is aching and she's beginning to accept her fate, when, the man steps into the light with her. At first she looks away, praying that he won’t choose her as his next victim. As the seconds vanish, she decides to turn, to take a peek at the man breathing quietly beside her. Her brown hair whips around her shoulder and she clutches her handbag studying the man. It was difficult to make out his face in the poorly lit corner, but as she examined him she took note of his shiny blue eyes and light complexion. Without delay, her shoulders relax, and she releases the tight grip
Her spry, Timberland-clad foot planted itself upon a jagged boulder, motionless, until her calf muscles tightened and catapulted her small frame into the next stride. Then Sara's dance continued, her feet playing effortlessly with the difficult terrain. As her foot lifted from the ground, compressed mint-colored lichen would spring back into position, only to be crushed by my immense boot, struggling to step where hers had been. My eyes fixated on the forest floor, as fallen trees, swollen roots, and unsteady rocks posed constant threats for my exhausted body. Without glancing up I knew what was ahead: the same dense, impenetrable green that had surrounded us for hours. My throat prickled with unfathomable thirst, as my long-empty Nalgene bottle slapped mockingly at my side. Gnarled branches snared at my clothes and tore at my hair, and I blindly hurled myself after Sara. The portage had become a battle, and the ominously darkening sky raised the potential for casualties. Gritting my teeth with gumption, I refused to stop; I would march on until I could no longer stand.
Untouched and unhindered, he continued on a path, not yet discovered, towards the unknowing Prince Prospero. Although he had a slow pace, he made an unexplainable distance in a small amount of time. Some masqueraded man from the retreating group grew enraged and curious of this mysterious man. He ran up to the figure and placed a hand on his mask with the intent to tear it off of the ghostly man. The moment he laid his hand upon the mask, he screamed in agony and pain. Then, unable to pull his hand or the mask free, his fate was sealed. His scream withered away along with his final breath, as he turned old and crumpled onto the lustrous floor in a pile of black ash. Silence and absolute stillness filled the room before a wine glass, half full of a red drink, descended from the whitley g...
An interesting and important aspect of this Greek notion of fate is the utter helplessness of the human players. No matter the choice made by the people involved in this tragedy, the gods have determined it and it is going to come to pass. T...
Death is a matter of two choices: regret or acceptance. One of the two must be chosen, for they are only the inevitable. Regret is the easy choice, for everyone has regret. Acceptance is the hard choice, for only a few people are able to say that they have lived their life to the fullest. Acceptance is the one thing I didn’t want to do, I learned to accept through the wisdom of The Giver. (Before and After Comparison)
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
Dying is an event that nobody looks forward to do, and every organism dies at some point or another. A question that one who fantasizes and wonders about it asks, “When will I die?” Death can come on accident or purpose. While death affects the person, it can have impacts that can affect others as well. Death can cause others to become depressed or to lose happiness for awhile, and in this instance, it drives one teenager insane because the thought of dying is overcoming of his mental stability. Holden Caulfield, a perceptive, imaginative, and indented young teenager who has a rough childhood, struggles and deals with the concept of death. Because Holden Caulfield in The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger has experienced the death of
Webster defines fate as a “ a power thought to control all events and impossible to resist” “a persons destiny.” This would imply that fate has an over whelming power over the mind. This thing called fate is able to control a person and that person has no ability to change it.