Oliver Q. was in pain. It could have been a headache from the sun or a form of nausea attributed to the sight of his blood (accompanied in turn by violent vomiting). Still, things such as those could not be responsible, as they could never cause this manifestation of pain, which he felt. It was the pain of all of life’s mysteries being discovered; and the answer is to make you suffer. It was the pain of everyone you know deciding you weren’t worth it, deciding that you should suffer and, to rub it in, you know it’s true. That and the fact that on this bright and sunny May afternoon, Oliver Q. was hit by a meteor.
As Oliver lay there dying, under this huge black and molten rock (which had landed just below his knees, simultaneously shattering the bones of his legs and fusing them to the ground), he might have wondered “why?” He might have wondered who would do such a thing. Anyone would certainly ponder those exact questions. Though Q. already knew who and why, and he was now probably contemplating death, for with the enemy he was facing, there was no second chance, no salvation, no hope. Alternatively, he might have merely been in shock, as he was recently hit by a rock from outer space.
If he looked deep inside himself, he might have found memories of his youth, where he first met the apple of the Tree of Knowledge. All that time ago, when he was an adolescent in a big city, and how he strayed from his friends just long enough to be forced into an alley. If he focused, he might have recalled that there had been snow on the ground, and that it had sparkled like the still illuminated, yet charred coals of the meteor that now paralyzed him. He might have seen the tuque on the offender’s bald head, or the generally unpleasant lo...
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...t God’s mercy, as he always had been. Though he was crying already due to the nerves in his legs being sliced by bone shards, he was perhaps crying harder now. Ironically, if his goal was to get the meteor off him, he succeeded, for before he could say any more, he heard a thundering, and a second meteor fell from the sky, and hit the first, which shattered both of the meteors into several thousand pieces. For less than a second, he felt freedom and forgiveness, just before he saw the third meteor crash into him. The third meteor didn’t slow down, or land on an angle, but landed at what represented (or what was left) of the tips of his toes, and began to roll, flattening his body in a manner similar to road kill. The last image a pedestrian would have seen of Oliver Q. would have been his entrails being pushed out of his mouth, still open from trying to say “sorry”.
Consequently, Andy’s soul withered further into hopelessness as each and every person who came to his rescue, turned their backs on him. Through a final desperate ambition, Andy broke free of the bonds that were pinning him down: “If it had not been for the jacket, he wouldn’t have been stabbed. The knife had not been plunged in hatred of Andy. The knife only hated the purple jacket. The jacket was a stupid, meaningless thing that was robbing him of his life. He lay struggling with the shiny wet jacket. Pain ripped fire across his body whenever he moved. But he squirmed and fought and twisted until one arm was free and the other. He rolled away from the jacket and layed quite still, breathing heavily, listening to the sound of his breathing and the sounds of rain and thinking: Rain is sweet, I’m Andy”. In these moments, Andy finally overcame his situation, only in a way not expected by most. Such depicted scenes are prime examples of human nature at it’s worst, as well as the horrors that lay within us. However, these events, although previously incomprehensible by his limited subconscious, led to a gradual enlightenment of the mind and heart. Furthermore, the experiences taught him
The time period this work takes place in is a very gloomy and frightening time. He wakes up in a dark place by himself and in fear, which makes things worse. A common theme we can relate this dark place to is when we fall off of the path of God. Since God represents all things good, the dark is the exact opposite. Since everything is not so clear in the wood he his describing, the path back to God is even more difficult to attain.
Ronald Takaki is one of the foremost-recognized scholars of multicultural studies and holds a PhD. in American History from the University of California, Berkeley. As a professor of Ethnic Studies at the same university, he wrote A Different Mirror: a History of Multicultural America as a fantastic new telling of our nation’s history. The book narrates the composition of the many different people of the United States of America.
I did this passage because I can only imagine what it was like to see himself after two years, and how much he had changed since then, he really must have looked like a different person. I am sure that he must have been shocked and I am not surprised that that memory has stayed with him for so long.
“Slowly, very slowly, like two unhurried compass needles, the feet turned towards the right, north, north-east, east, south-east, south, south-south-west, then paused, and, after a few seconds, turned as unhurriedly back towards the left. South-south-west, south, south-east, east.” Unexpectedly, his feelings, that he so frantically needed to clutch, wound up being the death of him yet that is what being a human is about.
her in the face with his clenched fist and she fell among the boulders, and
In the commencement of the story, the narrator is shocked and in disbelief about the news of his brother’s incarceration, “It was not to be believed” (83). It had been over a year since he had seen his brother, but all he had was memories of him, “This would always be at a moment when I was remembering some specific thing Sonny had once said or done” (83). The narrator’s thoughts about Sonny triggered his anxiety that very day. It was difficult to bear the news of what his brother had become, yet at some point he could relate to Sonny on a personal level, “I hear my brother. And myself” (84). After the news had spurred, the narrator experienced extreme anxiety to the point of sweating. Jus...
identity if he knew that he couldn't escape from it: "I think now that if I had
Another realization that helps the narrator gain more of an identity is the realization of his grandfather’s advice.
because of pain and blood in the rectal area when he regained his senses. “I ask myself
He is escorted down to a room with handcuffs on both arms and feet. The tension in the room causes nervousness and a stirring in his stomach, which entombs his dinner from the night before. He is told to take a seat. Still in doubt of his fate he notices the witnesses and their various expressions. His family is grief-stricken, a sharp contrast to the family of the brutally murdered, for which he was found guilty of. If only they knew what he knew; for they would not be strapping him into the chair, soaking a sponge, and placing it on top of his head along with the metal skullcap. If they knew the truth there would be someone in his place today. But alas, the truth dies along with the innocent.
Disappointment, disbelief and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, sandwiched between the cold, soft dirt and the hot, slick metal of the car. The weight of the car pressed down on the lower half of my body with monster force. It did not hurt, my body was numb. All I could feel was the car hood's mass stamping my body father and farther into the ground. My lungs felt pinched shut and air would neither enter nor escape them. My mind was buzzing. What had just happened? In the distance, on that cursed road, I saw cars driving by completely unaware of what happened, how I felt. I tried to yell but my voice was unheard. All I could do was wait. Wait for someone to help me or wait to die.
"...He cringed from death as one who trips on a snake in hilltop hollow recoils, suddenly trembling grips his knees and pallor, takes his cheeks and back he shrinks."
No one answered. Thomas looked down an almost vomited. There was a metal alloy through has stomach. Blood was
The reckless driver hit us straight on, then “Bang!” a loud noise resonated through the air, and abruptly my body flew out and hit the pavement of the road. Everything around me was simply a white haze for a few seconds after the impact. My body felt extremely heavy and the sharp pain throbbed throughout my face and body. Lying there on the rough asphalt, I faintly heard my mom and Carrie call out to me, “Sydney! Sydney! Are you okay? Answer me! Sydney!” I wanted I speak up and answer them, nonetheless, it was useless, my voice just wouldn’t make a sound. The desperation in Carrie’s and my mom’s voices reverberated to me across from where I was lying. My mom frantically ran up to my side and hugged me tightly in her arms. Blood was squirting out of her pinky, where the top of her finger had been severed. The places where my mom’s tears fell, stung my wounds, nevertheless, it was nothing compared to each little movements that caused the pains to electrify through my body severely. Every second was hell, the pain was just utterly agonizing and tormenting. Whether it was due to the pain or the exhaustion my body suffered, my mind slowly drifted off and I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. As my eyes gradually closed, the blazing siren seemed to have grown louder little by