I don’t mean to give this girl the cold shoulder, but my silence doesn’t seem to tell her that I want to be left alone. It doesn’t help the question she asked is something I did in Scelestus City to survive. “Does it matter? It’s done,” I snap, harshly. She bows her head, turning away from me, but I can still see the frown and watery-eyes of honey brown that shine in the dim light of the carrier. “Well, sorry for asking,” she sobs, softly. “You just looked…so lonely, sitting back here and I thought…” “I’m sorry,” I interrupt. I had been harsh to her when she’s just trying to be nice and make a friend. “I really am. I’m just nervous and I’m not use to be people being so friendly towards me. Neither am I used to being in such a small place with so many people. It makes me a little snappy.” …show more content…
Her makeup is still perfect, even after her tears. “No, that’s fine. I should have realized some people weren’t going to be friendly. I understand. My parents just signed me up from this damn thing. I didn’t even want to come, but I guess that’s what you get when you’re the middle child of ten and your parents don’t want you anymore.” There’s still cheerfulness in her voice and she says these things as if it’s no big deal. It both baffles and angers me. This is a big
Emma: My family was never perfect grace, we had our issues just as any other family. When my mom was diagnosed with cancer…. *Emma began to cry*
She says talk not to me for I will not talk back. She may say this in the original text but she does comfort her before but she becomes extremely self-obsessed in the movie whereas in the text she isn’t.
The temperature dropped to a frigid ten degrees fahrenheit with a -15 degree wind chill factor in Title Town. The only thing easily seen in the fog was my teammate’s and the thousands of spectator’s breath hovering in the air like a ghost. The championship game was set to start in 15 minutes. My flag football team and I sat on the Green Bay Packers sideline because we won our final game. I eagerly watched my favorite wide receiver, Jordy Nelson, catch the football when suddenly Aaron Rodgers approached me and started talking to me. At first he just discussed the throwing technique that he uses because we were both quarterbacks, but when I told him that I threw for two touchdowns and ran for one he seemed surprised and asked for my autograph.
"Oh yeah, piece of cake." A smile stretches across his face. "I heard you saying you don't understand, " he put his hand on her shoulder in a sort-of motion of comfort, "You'll do fine. " Again the smile, and he walked size off to another group of kids.
Melinda smiled. “Be true to yourself, and do not let this world consume you. I look forward to seeing you again.”
"It’s not like I hate you, you know? I just don’t know how to act around you. I know you don’t understand, and I’m sorry for that.”
As the sound of the announcer calling our team roughly breaks the calm silence of the busy Ann Arbor lake, the light click of our oar locks can be heard as the four of us squares our blades in the green-blue water together. In the shallow water, the sight of brown algae snaking along the bottom and the peeling black and yellow paint on the end of our oars welcomes our eyes. We sit relaxed in the black carbon fiber shell of the Camilla, our sharp eyes analyzing every movement of the other boats while the sun’s scorching rays beat down on our tan shoulders and the reflective surface of the still lake. As we wait for the race to begin, the aroma
“Whoa. I did nothing,” I said, trying to hide the panic from my voice. “Just let me go. Please,” I said.
“No,” I tell her, running my fingers through my dark hair. I message the ache in the back of my neck, and my hand is drenched in sweat when I pull it back and look at it. The stranger gives me an odd look and shifts in her chair to make a point. “Look, honey,” she says, “you can talk to me about whatever it is that’s happening, alright?” She continues when I don’t reply. “Why are you here all by yourself?”
“I haven't been accepted.” I said as my voice was trembling. I hope that she didn't notice. I will not cry, not now.
, when people ask me where I’m from, I cringe and lower my head in admitted shame. Dayton, Ohio is a dying city. However, after just being home for Thanksgiving break, the first time I’ve been home since recently turning twenty one, I’ve discovered that there is an artistic awakening happening in my home city; that is, the Gem City has a few hidden gems. I am referring to the Dayton Contemporary Dance Company (DCDC). Founded in 1968, DCDC is Rooted in the African-American experience and is a culturally diverse contemporary dance company committed to reaching the broadest audience through exceptional performance and arts-integrated education. My best friend decided to take me to see their restaging of the family-friendly holiday presentation of Charles Tazewell’s endearing 1946 children’s story “The Littlest Angel” in the Kennedy Union Boll Theatre of the University of Dayton. I was moved.
"I'm not feeling well today. Maybe you should just go alone." She kept a placid expression on her face, knowing full well she was lying, and it might show.
Alright Lord, help me out. "I couldn't help but notice that you seem upset. Is everything alright?"
"Not that it helps, but I'm sorry this turned out like it did. All I can say is oftentimes things happen for a reason and while it doesn't seem like it now, something good will come of this. I'm sure of it."
“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about something. You know, Mother.” I said desperately, letting tears roll down my cheek. Gleam understood this and immediately tried to cheer me up. She came over and...