I stepped into my uncle’s Victorian-style home for the first time, suitcase in hand. This house had been passed down in our family for generations, and Uncle Damien, being the eldest child between him and my mother, had received it. He has always lived here ever since I could remember, but I have never been to his house before because he had always come to visit us. This year was different. My parents thought it would be nice for us to spend the summer with him, that it would give us something new to do and out of our normal routine. But I knew that they really just wanted to have the next couple of months to themselves.
I turned around and saw Lilith, my four year old sister, come skipping up the extensive driveway, shadows darkening her face; nonetheless, her smile was still clearly visible. She carried her favorite doll with her at her side – she could never go anywhere with out it. She stopped, suddenly, right before the porch stairs, gaping at the three-story home. Her smile had vanished.
“Lilith...?” I began, bewildered.
Uncle Damien walked up, noisily lugging Lilith’s overstuffed suitcase behind him. Blinking rapidly, Lilith’s smile reappeared and she clambered up the stairs enthusiastically.
“Slow down, Lil,” Uncle Damien called out, chuckling to himself.
Lilith did no such thing. Unable to slow herself down in time, she collided with me me but didn’t even miss a beat.
“Willow, Willow, Willow!” she shrieked, thrillingly. “Let’s play hide and seek!”
I grinned at her excitement. “We can’t now,” I replied. “We just got here, and we need to get our stuff into our rooms.”
“That’s okay,” Uncle Damien said, as amused as I ...
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...k her.”
“And now we get to go home?” I asked, not sure if I should feel relieved or not.
“Yes, of course,” he chuckled.
The mood had lightened and I felt a calmness wash over me. Lilith’s eyes fluttered open as she awakened, her doll still clutched in her tiny hand. She looked at me confused.
“Who are you?” she asked innocently. Quickly, recognition filled her face as she said, “Oh, you must Lilith’s sister. Willow. She wanted me to give you her doll to remember her bye.” She handed me the doll, and I took it slowly, my heart slowly sinking.
This...girl..whoever she was..yawned and continued speaking as if she didn’t notice my shocked face. “I told her she needed to go back to her real parents. They were the ones that really loved her.” A twisted smirk formed on her face. “I will be your new sister.”
“This ones going to kill my story. It was so happy and magical.” Elizabeth fluttered to the front of the room.
Leslie Carter, Carter’s sister, died in 2012 because of drugs and alcohol. Since Carter had dealt with the same addictions and won he couldn’t “shake the feeling that Leslie would have found some truth, hope and direction” in his book “and that it might have helped save her life” (Carter 4). Carter was blamed for his sister’s death because he was never there for his sister. Instead of helping his sister get over some of the same struggles he suffered with, he was furthering his own career. Carter began to think that he was the cause of his sister’s death and that in some way he could have prevented it.The overwhelming feeling of guilt in Carter’s life intensified when he didn’t attend the funeral of his sister because he was afraid that his family members would blame him for Leslie’s death as well. The last time him and his sister spoke they did not end on good terms, which added to his feeling of shame. To appease his guilt, he wrote his autobiography so that hopefully other people could find guidance through his struggles and past mistakes. Walls’ first memories were those of poverty, but when she grew older she became successful and provided a good life for herself. Walls now lives in an apartment in New York City but she “could never enjoy the room without worrying about [her] Mom and Dad huddled on a sidewalk grate somewhere” (Walls 4). At the same time she “was embarrassed by them, too, and ashamed of [herself] for wearing pearls and living on Park Avenue while [her] parents were busy keeping warm and finding something to eat” (Walls 4). Walls has conflicting feelings: she feels embarrassed at the way her parent’s chosen lifestyle but at the same time she feels guilty for feeling this way. No matter how hard she tries, her parents will not accept her help because they took pride in
With the unfortunate events that transpired causing Iris and her family to evacuate death’s curse, find shelter, and start a new beginning, tragedy has brought the harmony of Clara’s outer beauty and Iris’s inner beauty together, allowing Clara to transform into the creature in which God truly intended her to be, not by magic, but by the words of wisdom, and the visionary power of Clara’s newly found sister, Iris.
These girls have had a rough life. In 1910, their mother died and the four girls only have each other for all their weeps and worries. Also, their dad has been dead for years and ever since the death of their mother, life has just not been the same. They were left as orphans and took care of each other, since they were all they had. Then, something gave the Purcell girls a glimmer of hope. They had a guardian, who for the rest of their lives would take care of the girls. His name was Mr. Mackenzie and he was married to Mrs. Mackenzie and they had kids of their own. They have three sons; Gabriel, Geoffrey, and Antony. Also, they had one daughter; her name was Lucy. One child, though, would soon become very important in Julia’s life. His name was Master Geoffrey and he had been away at school ever since the Mackenzie’s started taking care of the Purcell girls, which was in January of 1910. At this time, he was the same age as Julia. They were both 15 years old. As soon as they first met, they wanted to get to know each other better. One of the first things Geoffrey noticed about Julia is that she was very much like her older sister, Frances; except, there was something special about her. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something
SparkNotes Editors. “SparkNote on Diary of a Young Girl.” SparkNotes.com. SparkNotes LLC. 2003. Web. 9 Apr. 2014.
Crucet says, “I don’t even remember the moment they drove away,” but unlike the author’s family, mine left after I moved in, they did not stay the whole first week into my classes. After the first day of being alone, I wish they
Spark Notes Editors. “Spark Note on Diary of a Young Girl.” SparkNotes.com. Spark Notes LLC. 2003. Web. 17 Mar. 2011.
Looking back on the death of Larissa’s son, Zebedee Breeze, Lorraine examines Larissa’s response to the passing of her child. Lorraine says, “I never saw her cry that day or any other. She never mentioned her sons.” (Senior 311). This statement from Lorraine shows how even though Larissa was devastated by the news of her son’s passing, she had to keep going. Women in Larissa’s position did not have the luxury of stopping everything to grieve. While someone in Lorraine’s position could take time to grieve and recover from the loss of a loved one, Larissa was expected to keep working despite the grief she felt. One of the saddest things about Zebedee’s passing, was that Larissa had to leave him and was not able to stay with her family because she had to take care of other families. Not only did Larissa have the strength to move on and keep working after her son’s passing, Larissa and other women like her also had no choice but to leave their families in order to find a way to support them. As a child, Lorraine did not understand the strength Larissa must have had to leave her family to take care of someone else’s
"If this is what you really want, then you should have no problem leaving this house...for good." He said. I gasped.
I remember the night they were taken like it was yesterday. The family at the end of the cul-de-sac sat down for dinner. Lydia and her younger brother, Aaron squabbled over who gets to sit where and Mr. and Mrs. Claymont gave up trying to separate them. The dinner passes unusually quiet, Aaron who is a very loquacious young boy stayed silent except for a few words to pass the potatoes. Lydia doesn't talk much, she's troubled by her friend, May. May’s around Lydia's age, almost eight and a very spirited girl. Lately she hasn’t been herself, usually she never does the same thing at recess twice, but for the past week she's stayed inside.
Given our relatively short acquaintance, it startled me that I could read his face so transparently. But in the few months since Nancy and I had moved into our still unfinished house, Fred had become more than just a next door neighbor. Oh, we certainly had our differences. Fred was old enough to be my father, and our personalities were as far apart as our ages. He was always teasing, playing practical jokes, and smiling quizzically. I was quieter. Compared to Fred, one might say I was comatose. Yet we both seemed to know that we had something in common, something strong.
To begin, Lilith is an enigma in many circles, with varying tales and legends ascribed to her. In certain aspects of Jewish folklore, Lilith is believed to have been the original wife of Adam who was exiled from Eden and replaced with the better known Eve because she refused to submit to Adam's male authority (Grolier "Lilith").
Growing up, I always found sanctuary confiding in my father’s youngest brother, Dean; I had a favorite uncle, as we all seem to have at one point in our lives. Since Uncle Dean was the youngest, I looked at him as the coolest out of the myriad of older relatives. He often bought me ice cream sundaes and showered me with aimless jokes and “piggy-back” rides. Most of the time spent visiting my father on weekends, was actually spent wrestling with Uncle Dean or playing video games until the break of daylight. I looked forward weekends, because that meant “Uncle Dean Time”. I expected to hang out with my Uncle Dean every Friday and Saturday. In fact, I knew for certain he would be waiting at my father’s home with some brand new clothes or any other prize vied for by a 10 year old. Little did I know that over the next coupe of years, I would gain knowledge of one of the most important lessons of life: value those dearest to you, for you never know how long they will be in your company.
He was calling him upstairs to show him something. As he entered the room, Grandpa opened the door of his cupboard. There were uncountable boxes of gifts inside. “Is there somebody’s birthday today?” he asked. “No, I used to keep a present in this cupboard every year, on your birthday” Grandpa replied. “We celebrated your first birthday together, and after that I used to miss you a lot”, “As you are here now, I want you to take these gifts back to your house” He added further. He was speechless; he tightly hugged his Grandpa, with tears in his eyes. He was feeling ashamed of thinking that he will have an awful time there. He had no clue that every one of these years, he was actually ignoring the love and affection they had for him, not the “boring” relatives. According to Jane Howard, “Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need
Chloe concurred " Yes you are right it feels happy and relaxing" Chloe added " We were very unnerved at first though."