It all began with a simple phone call one night after dinner. “Collin,” my father hollered up the stairs, “It’s for you. It’s Katie, and she sounds upset.” As I came downstairs to pick up the phone, I was not happy. I was tired and had looked forward to a nice quiet evening at home, not another crazy mission with Katie. Thirty minutes later, however, Katie’s red Ford GT swung into our driveway, and Katie was leaning on the horn before the car came to a full stop. Grabbing my suit coat from the couch, I walked out my front door with all the enthusiasm of a man going to stand before a firing squad. Katie and I are top secret spies that go on the government’s hardest missions. I became partners with Katie because she was the only one who could pass the training that was required by the government in order to be spies. I have known Katie for about two years now. Katie may come off as a ditzy blonde, but in reality she will kick the living daylights out of any enemy that challenges her. Katie is the kind of girl that is expected to be working in a nail salon, but that is what makes our love-hate relationship a story to be told. Katie is about 29 years old. I on the other hand, am more of a godly man …show more content…
Secondly she might lean on one of those buttons that could activate the missiles and blow my whole house to pieces. That leads me into Katie’s car. Her car is fully loaded. From the outside, it just looks like a super girl’s car, but really it has every gadget needed for every type of situation. With the touch of a button the car will pull out dual machine guns on either side of the hood. It can also go into a super speed boost that will allow us to catch anyone in any getaway. Oh ya, not to mention that the whole outside of the car is stronger than the body of a
It was a hot, Thursday afternoon. So hot you could burn your hand by touching a window. So hot, you could fry an egg on the sidewalk. Three weeks from now was the best day in 2th grade, field day. Today we were picking relay teams
Phil!,Phil!,Phil!,Phil! Dang hearing my name gives me the rush, as you all know i'm Punxsutawney Phil the cutest, fluffiest,and awesomest groundhog you have ever seen i'm for sure you already know who I am. What!? You haven't well pull up a chair and listen to my story on how I became the fabulous Punxsutawney Phil.It was a quiet day, I was getting a nice healthy snack which involved clovers, and bark. All of a sudden a very large dark figure picked me up and loaded me into some big cage. I was then in a new home it was strange were I was at I was really hot, but here the temperature has been just fine, not too hot to cold, I was inkling to see where I was still a little figure came up to see me through some weird shield I was startled due
They both appear to be healthy happy children. Then Katie met Ally Hudson. She was assigned male at birth but always felt a girl. When he was seven, he was suicidal, and at that moment, his mom realized she had to address her son‘s anxiety. Ally is part of a unique study involving puberty blockers.
One late summer night when AAM was ten years old, she was cuddled up with her younger brother and sister in piles of sleeping bags on the floor. The pain of the last few months had graciously excused itself that night while hope, instead, was finally welcomed in. She remembers the night feeling carefree; especially once her parents came into join them. However, the happiness quickly vanished and heart-crushing fear began to set in as her parents said, “We have something to tell you.” Her heart began to beat unsteadily with each breath catching in her throat. She looked around to find her little brother and sister pale and lifeless. Her dad looked distant while her mom was epically failing at hiding her tears. All too soon the four most horrid words AAM would ever hear were said. “We are getting divorced,” her parents stated. At that moment, the entire world crashed down around her; leaving her helpless and alone. All she remembers today is her mom’s piercing cries in her parents’ old bedroom, and the terror-stricken fear of not knowing what will happen tomorrow.
Although no one was killed, the grandmother limped out of the car and said "I believe I have injured an organ," still trying to seek attention. In addition, when the family sees a car from on top of the hill, "The grandmother stood up and waved both arms dramatically to attract their attention." ( O 'Connor 716) Furthermore, three men came out of the car and the grandmother thought that the driver 's face looked familiar. She later recognized him from the newspaper she had read and said: "You 're The Misfit!" The grandmother began to cry and said: "You wouldn 't shoot a lady, would you?" ( O 'Connor 717)
Getting ready to walk into Anna’s hospice room, my anxiety level was escalating. Saying a quick prayer, I asked God to help me find the right words to comfort Anna and her family. Upon knocking on her door, a young lady in her middle 20’s answered the door. Opening the door for me, she informed me Anna was her grandmother and she would like me just to sit with her and that she would return after work. And she left. No get to know you introduction here, very formal, matter of fact, serious kind of girl. No one was going to invade her space. Oh well, I thought, I’m here to help Anna, hopefully Julie will open up later.
Katie’s hardships make her struggle with feeling normal because the feeling is so foreign to her. Katie feels alienated in her community because she believes her trials make her unlike anyone else. Her trials include being abused, escaping, and the constant fear of being found. Abuse impacts Katie’s life in a negative way but has an important role in overcoming her obstacles. Katie’s husband, Kevin beats and threatens her so one would question how she could fall in love with him in the first place. Katie falls in love with Kevin because, “In the beginning he was so sweet to her… he was
That day, the camera caught the tiny smile only a big sister could have as she holds one of the best birthday presents ever. I don't take up even half of a blue hospital chair as I cradle Katie in my arms. She is wrapped all in white, like the little angel that every baby is. My white, hooded sweatshirt has faint patches of sky blue, and just a tiny crimson triangle of a T-shirt peeks out from behind the zipper. Looking closer, a third person can be seen: my mother's wrist-banded hand holds Katie's head up. My tiny arms weren't quite strong enough for that task.
In “Danger of a Single Story”, Chimamanda Adichie states that people should not judge others just by a single story that they know about them. I think people should also know other stories about other people rather than a single story, before judging people on that one single perspective, as every person has a different story, and have to deal with different situations. And no two persons are completely alike. People need to accept this fact and should stop misinterpreting people without knowing them. The question is: What makes people judge others, and what leaves a definite impression about it?
Seventeen years ago, I came bounding into a world of love and laughter. I was the first child, the first grandchild, the first niece, and the primary focus of my entire extended family. Although they were not married, my parents were young and energetic and had every good intention for their new baby girl. I grew up with opportunities for intellectual and spiritual growth, secure in the knowledge that I was loved, free from fear, and confident that my world was close to perfect. And I was the center of a world that had meaning only in terms of its effect on me-- what I could see from a height of three feet and what I could comprehend with the intellect and emotions of a child. This state of innocence persisted through my early teens, but changed dramatically in the spring of my sophomore year of high school. My beloved father was dying of AIDS.
It was the middle of the night when my mother got a phone call. The car ride was silent, my father had a blank stare and my mother was silently crying. I had no idea where we were headed but I knew this empty feeling in my stomach would not go away. Walking through the long bright hallways, passing through an endless amount of doors, we had finally arrived. As we
“The Story of an Hour” was a story set in a time dominated by men. During this time women were dependent on men, but they always dreamed of freedom. Most people still think that men should be dominant and in control. They think that without men, women can’t do anything and that they can’t be happy. Well this story has a twist.
Throughout this past week I partook in the practice of Lent for the second time this year. In the past week, I have really tried to follow each rule of Lent with great care and mindfulness. During the actual Lent season, I seem to slack and stray from the purpose of lent due to the repetition every year. This week I have followed every guideline for fasting and abstinence, and this has guided me in the steps of Jesus. Through prayer my family always grows closer, and prayer has been the driving force in this lent experience. Almsgiving is something pretty new to me, being young I never really gave anything of my own to others, but now I try to give back to the community as much as it gives to me. Lent is a familiar tradition for me but through fasting, almsgiving, and prayer this week, I have deepened my faith for future years to come.
The shrill cries of my alarm echo across vermilion painted walls, stirring my consciousness into an aware state. It is precisely eight o’clock on a warm summer Monday; the distant cries of mockingbirds can be heard above the soft whirring of cars passing our genteel residential street. My ears scan the house; it is quiet – barely a sound other than the tinkling of tags as our pets navigate the living room. The still morning air brought realization, with no children running around Mother must have already left for work. Never leaving my lax position I stretch and sigh, it is nice to not have to baby-sit my sister’s kids – my nieces and nephew – but I do miss the mornings where my mother would still kiss me goodbye.
As usual I woke up to the sound of my father pounding on my bedroom door, hollering, “Get up! Get on your feet! You’re burning daylight!” I met my brother in the hallway, and we took our time making it down the stairs, still waking up from last night’s sleep. As we made our way to the kitchen, I thought about what to have for breakfast: fried eggs, pancakes, an omelet, or maybe just some cereal. I started to get hungry. As usual, mom and dad were waiting in the kitchen. Mom was ready to cook whatever we could all agree on, and dad was sitting at the table watching the news. The conversation went as usual, “Good morning.” “How are you today?”