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THE CATAMORPHOSIS
My Morning started like any other; My alarm went off, I got out of bed, and headed straight to the bathroom. Half-awake and still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I must have gotten lost because I stepped right into the cats litter box. YUCK!
Something felt like it was caught in the back of my throat. “HACK, HACK”, I tried to clear it out, but I needed something to drink. I knelt down and took a couple of sips from my cats bowl before I was startled by the reflection looking back at me from the water. I WAS MY CAT!!
Thinking back to last night, before bed and my mom was yelling at me about my responsibilities to my cat. “Feed your cat, give her water, and change the litter. How would you like it if no one did anything for you?” she scolded me. Once I finished my chores, I sat there, at the edge of my bed with the cat
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I feasted on the breakfast scraps that were left out on the table; a bitten piece of toast, left-over scrambled eggs, and the milk from a cereal bowl. I cant remember the last time something tasted so good. After my belly was full I curled up on the couch and made myself comfortable.
The blaring television startled me awake from my cat nap. Before I knew what was happening, a giant behind was backing up in my direction. It was my grandma and it was already too late. I was trapped underneath her and no matter how much I screamed or hissed, clawed or scratched, nothing was working. There was only one more thing I could think to do. It was my last resort and I really didn't want to, but I closed my eyes and bit my grandmother in the butt.
“YOWWWW!” She screamed, jumping high into the air. I struggled to catch my breath as I scrambled to my feet and took off for my room. My grandmother was chasing after me and she missed me by only inches with a swing of her cane. “BAD KITTTYY!!” she yelled behind
In our third and final Interactive Oral we discussed the significance of the title, how gender roles were shown throughout the story, and what the story would be like if the Samsa's were wealthy.
Running around in the yard on a warm summer evening. No shoes are needed for this activity, they thought. My mother sitting next to her grandfather, swinging her bare feet from the old wooden bench out back. Her fondest memory was unfolding in front of her eyes. Uncle Scott and Cousin Kevin were running around yelling “throw it to me, to me.” My mother’s grandfather was throwing the baseball back and forth with the boys as my mother watched. “I loved watching the boys push and shove each other to be the one to catch the ball.” my mother said. As my mother bonded with her grandfather, they could hear the okra popping in the grease and the smell of the cheesy mashed potatoes lingering through the kitchen window. As grandma finished with dinner, she came outside and saw that the kids didn’t have shoes on. My mother vividly remembers this part of the story because she said “one thing that I remember is that maw maw never raised her voice very often.” Grandma looks sternly at Grandpa and shouts “what
Do the physical and emotional changes of other people have effects on the people around them? If they do change, will everyone still view them as the same person? Unfortunately, most people in the world today do not accept change in others. Even though the looks of people change and at some moments in their life, their emotions change, they are still going be the same person. The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka is a prime example of how one person’s changes can have an effect on the people around him. In The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, Gregor undergoes a metamorphosis that fills him with guilt and brings to the forefront the transformation of his family.
Not knowing who I was for many years led to a series of bad decisions and choices. However I began to notice that I had a gift, a talent of making others feel good and found myself wanting to be an emboldening model for others. Often my friends and family looked to me for advice and answers. I later realized that it was not about giving advice but helping them find the answer that are locked away in their subconscious mind. Helping them discover who they were; the irony I discovered who I was, my life purpose, my calling.
stared back, unable to believe that it was indeed I who was reflected in the mirror; and when I became fully convinced
Throughout my life my mom has always been selfless and generous- especially when it came to her children and grandchildren… ever putting her self last! SHE WAS MY EVERYTHING… Unlike my sister, I was the one that gave my parents their grey hair… It took me longer than most to mature, and the truth is- that’s putting it mildly. Yet through all the ups and downs, and all the times I would end up disappointing her expectations of me, one thing NEVER
I was finally home after a long day at work and I was so tired. My chunky heels clacked crunched the fallen leaves as I made my way to the front door of my country home. All of the sudden I caught a movement at the corner of my eye. It happened so quickly that for a second I thought my brain was playing tricks on me.
Nothing has changed my life more since the realization that I had to make who I was something that I chose, and not something that just happened. Since this revelation nothing seemed the same anymore, as though I could see the world through new eyes. It changed everything from my taste in music, literature, and movies. Things of a dark and pessimistic nature used to hold a strong allure for me, and yet I found much of things I once enjoyed didn't seem to entertain me anymore. I remembered the mental state that I once held and now seeing how I have changed, know that I can never return to the prison I came from.
Suddenly we were attract by water spraying at us from a tree, scared we ran screaming for the bounce house. Johnny and Connor, my two younger brothers, came running out of the bushes running for us. Laughing as they got us drenched with water we too laughing as we ducked for cover. Somehow gabby go hold of the hoes and attacked them back until they were just as soaked as much as we were. By now we were slipping and sliding all over the place giggling and joking.
I could tell from my mother's stern voice that she wasn’t going to budge on this one. I turned around, hunched my shoulders, dropped my head, and walked down the hall to clean my room, pouting the entire way. I turned into the room and saw a huge mess. “This is going to take forever!” I thought as I looked around at the toys, puzzles, books, and clothes strewn about all over. There was no way I could clean all this up and still have time to go play with my friends. “Jeez, Mom doesn’t understand anything. If she would just let me go play, then I would come back and clean it up later,” I thought to myself. “She is no fun at all. When I’m a mom I will never make my kids clean their room,” I vowed to myself. I started cleaning, putting toys in the toy box, books on the shelf, shoes and dress-up clothes in the closet.
My father knelt down and kissed my forehead as he said, “Don’t worry, Princess, Mommy will….Oh here she is now!” I sprang from my warm, sheltered seat and sprinted to the front window as quickly as my tiny legs could move. My fingers grasped the long, wooden windowsill and my little pug nose pressed against the window pain. My breath delivered a frosty appearance on the glass as my eyes strained to see my mother step out of her car. My toes ached with pain as I fought to stay in view with the outside world.
morning wind. Only thing that I hoped was that I would not be late to work, I
...y brother and took the dog out. I jumped into the shower and did a fast wash. I ran to my bedroom to get dressed and took a quick look at the clock. I had plenty of time. I got dressed, and I even changed my shirt twice because I could. I went down for breakfast and the coffee was ready. But, I was alone. My heart started racing. In my hurry to get ready, I did not notice that my mom and brother were not up. “Oh no”, I thought. I dashed to my mom’s room and yelled, “Get Up, Get Up!, you need to hurry or I am going to be late for school.” My mom looked at me and said, “Why are you in such a big rush today, when normally I cannot get you to open your eyes at this time?” I yelled, “Hurry or I am going to be tardy and get suspended.” My mom just smiled and pulled the covers over her head. As she did that, I could just hear her say, “Trace it is Saturday.”
...; I like to believe that I've accepted my self-induced isolation from her with grace, but I must admit that I do hold the hope of bridging the gap between my mother and I. I also hold the hope of amending myself for all the times I've knowingly and purposefully hurt her. Although she is not a god, as I originally assumed, she is a good woman. She has raised me, sheltered me, and loved me for over seventeen years without asking for more than casual chores in return. I believe that the greatest compliment I could ever give my mother is to grow up to be exactly what she wants me to be. I want to make her happy. My gift to her will be my success in life, so that when she's old and gray, and she's knitting me a hideous sweater in her creaky rocking chair, she can sigh, and mumble to herself, "Wow, it was worth it."
Nevertheless, I still felt nervous talking in front of class, and I felt that my identity had ran away from me leaving me just a moving, breathing, and a seamless creature in front of the mirror. and so my journey began.