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Female stereotypes in literature
Dramatic monologue critical analyse
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Recommended: Female stereotypes in literature
"Wanna bet on it?" (Y/N) looked up at the 5'10 black haired 3rd year , sure you were just slightly shorter than him.. but that didn't matter she wanted to beat him ,she wanted to make him feel lost to her. "Tch, what makes you think I'll do it ?" "Winner gets ice cream" (Y/N) immediately stared up at his steel blue eyes. "Deal" ~le time skip to middle of basketball match~ Score was 25-18 he was beating you like if it was child's play (Y/N) was getting aggravated because of this.His smile like if you were just a child at an easy quick game. (Y/N) had the ball and started dribbling it towards the basketball hoop and right as she jumped and dunked it ; she felt something at the back of her foot. "oof" Then snap "Are you okay ??" …show more content…
is he alright?was he in trouble? all these thoughts of anxiety and stress ran throughout (Y/N)'s mind.It didn't seem to escape anytime soon so she decided to go to a specific Goldilocks to see what the absence was all about. ~ "KISE ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?"you managed to scream up at him behind his little group of fangirls"o-oh sorry (Y/N)cchi!do you need something?"he said as he gave you his signature charming smile"do you know where kasamatsu-kun is? he wasn't here all day and i'm starting to get worried about him.."(Y/N) said not even noticing her panicked tone."ohhh kasamatsu-senpai is in the (hospital name) i …show more content…
As she arrived to the cute little hospital she quickly walked up to the front desk."u-um is Yukio Kasamatsu here?" she asked in a quiet small tone."Yes,He is in room 225"said the front desk lady.(Y/N) quickly gave her thanks and headed towards the elevator and pressed to lead it to the second floor. (Y/N)'s heart started beating quickly each second as she looked at each little number to find room 225 then her (E/C) eyes finally found the little numbers and opened the door. She was greeted by Kasamatsu in a hospital bed with his leg up and (Y/N)'s heart calmed down to see his appearance once again."Missed me? or did you just want to laugh that you made me break a leg"he said in a sarcastic tone. (Y/N) wanted to hug him and hold him right there on the spot but for some reason she couldn't do it she couldn't move or even make a single noise."b-be quiet idiot!"was all she could try to sound out while trying to look round the room avoiding his steel blue eyes that she could get lost in a matter of
Heather and Arthur had just come back from the lunch room, Doctor Jim and Nurse Patty were walking down the hallway with them. Doctor Jim was
A doctor, Dr. Musoke, and nurses immediately wheeled him into a room and began tr...
“What was I doing up here anyway? Why did I let Finny talk me into stupid things like this? Was he getting some kind of hold over me? (1.32).”
Emely made her way towards room 264. On the way, she sees an actual orderly with his hand cut off. She smiles, knowing that justice was served when he was caught talking on the phone in the hospital.
They follow the nurse to the room and sit in a office. Juniper is nervous biting the side of her thumb while Jake looks bored and uninterested on his phone. It's not long until a Doctor (y/c) comes in looking at her file “Juniper Dawson?” June stands up holding her hand out looking slightly flustered at the man “June.. hi.” Jake looks up at the man and says in a bored tone “Jake.”
I quickly sit up as the nurse’s and doctor's flood into the room. I look around noticing the parents outside the room. The mother's eyes full of tears. The father tried to calm down the mother without making a difference. I stand up and walk out of the room into the lobby.
Prologue Heat makes its way across my skin, the UV rays cascading across my face. Small beads of sweat fall down my face, as the luminous sun beats down on me. Thoughts run through my brain and I can see the sun through my closed eyes. The faint sounds of “Mambo Italiano” fill my ears as my mamma sings away in the kitchen beside me. The light breeze hits me and I let out a small smile as my mother lets out a small “Shit” as she drops something on the floor.
Ginger grabbed Gabriela's hand, "How did you do that?" Gabriela chuckled, "You know, I've learned never to tell my secrets to others," she lifted her finger to her mouth with a wink. Ginger smiled as she turned back to Jerry, "I am sorry, I was mistaken." Gabriela turned to me with a warm smile. I walked up to her and grabbed her face, I wanted to make sure she was okay.
I wish I knew every single reason for why you'd left. I couldn't even begin to form the words to ask you all the questions in my head. I asked you why a week after you'd done it; I know it took so long, I just hadn't let it sink in because I tried to avoid the pain. You couldn't even answer the only text I sent you after you left. All my fingers could type was a simple "Why?"
You’re sitting in a back ally of an amateur theatre in Paris, fog settling on the cobblestones creating a sea of dappled grey. The year is 1870 and you had just been turned away from a backstage position at a small theatre in the western quarter in Paris, sadly your dreams had been crushed with a mere, “sorry (Y/N) you’re not what we’re looking for.” Crushed and dejected you took a moment outside to fall apart, you had only just moved to Paris from the country side and you needed a job. You had very little money to your name and you had rent as well as expenses to pay neither of which you could afford. “Come on (Y/N) pull yourself together,” you whisper to yourself, standing as you do so, your knees cracking in protest the cold seeping into
The lights dimmed and as I blinked to focus, a hand reached through the darkness and nudged me forward. My stomach dropped and my mind went blank. Then the fluorescents blazed, the music began, and my feet started to move as if I was in a trance. I was not a small, goofy six-year-old but an elegant ballerina. My arms hit every pose, my feet precisely placed in every combination, and my little face full of glee.
He took a deep breath, and proceeded to push up against the rail and to swing his leg over. "Stop, don't do it. " someone ordered. Draco turned around and saw it was y/n. "What makes you think you can tell me what to do?" Draco snorted back, emphasising on the me, it was rude, but he couldn't let y/n know that he was weak. "Well, the fact that I have caught you doing something you will regret makes me immediately involved." she remarked back. "You don't know anything about me, you don't know what I have been through, what I have experienced, so don't you dare think you can tell me what to do with my life." Draco said almost screaming, he had said it to y/n, but he knew he was really directing it to his father. Y/N had a blank stare on her face, she didn't know Draco well, she had only seen him around the school and in between classes, they weren't in the same house so there paths rarely met, but she had heard the rumours. The rumours that he had become a Death Eater. She didn't know what to believe, she knew he was a bully, a pure blood who thought better of himself, but he was still a teenager, despite his beliefs she never truly believed he would of chosen that
When the patient arrived in the room, the nurse identified the patient, and made sure she knew what procedure was ready to take place. He then helped the CRNA place the patient on the bed.
On the third floor of the hospital, they kept a cot that the psychologists used if they worked a late night with one of the hard cases. I crossed my fingers that it wasn’t being used tonight. I got into my work clothes and tried to skulk off to the third floor. Of course, I ran into Gabby. “Bert!
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).