Jace's legs hurt from the walking, but he would still rather be on the road then feeling stupid in front of the others. When the apocalypse started, he had embraced it wholly, he had hidden inside this new circumstance, fully letting it shape a new better self. It allowed him to shed the person he had been, that lonely, sad, damaged person, and become someone else, someone better. But it was all a veneer, underneath was the same person he had always been and now he carried baggage. Locked inside him was this fear, a terror he couldn't escape and no matter how much he pretended, he still dreaded rejection, nothing had changed.
He should have known that being bitten was not going to turn him and in hindsight he kicked himself. He had been so busy playing zombie hunter that he had let himself be taken in by myths. It had been a psychological shock to his system and he had never felt such despair as in those moments after. If it hadn't been for Carl's calm, firm reassurances, he probably would have lost it completely. Jace had known before Carl had shown him the crescent scars covering his arms, he just hadn't believed. He hadn't wanted to believe they were all infected and that his miraculous survival was just random chance. That his immune system had beaten the odds and somehow triumphed. Jace wanted so desperately to believe he was special, that his survival had been because of his own actions and not something out of his hands, that he was willing to look past the obvious, to keep fooling himself.
The whole world had turned so fast and so completely that it left survivors with a gap in their knowledge. Jace was half way to convincing himself that it wasn't his fault that he had been taken in, when a church came in to view. It wa...
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...oing was cutting at her flesh, releasing the dark and stagnate blood. Standing on her ankle he chopped at her knee instead, finding the back of it a better target and slowly he managed to break through dismembering the shin. The more he chopped, the more his fingers hurt and the angrier he got. How dare something that should have been dead attack him, like it had the right to live over him. Using the back of the spade he swung at the back of her head, relishing the way it jarred her head forward, but the woman's persistence as she again tried to rise, frustrated him further. Discarding the spade, he kicked her flat arse, sending her face first into the dirty carpet and knelt on her back. Pulling the claw hammer from his belt he caved her skull with continuous blows, exposing the dark corrupted brain matter and adding to the dry blood that already spattered his shirt.
Jace Witherspoon is a determined, responsible, and secretive sixteen year-old teen. Throughout the whole story, Jace has one goal: to save his mother from the pain afflicted by his father. He never gives up on his objective, even when his older brother Christian was ready to move on. The mother soon rejects the brothers’ attempt to rescue her, and Jace is unable to cope with it, shedding many tears, showing how unyielding he was about the situation the whole time. Adding on the Jace’s character, he did not blame anyone for him hitting his ex-girlfriend except himself. This shows he is able to accept responsibility for his actions, not blaming Lauren even though she slept with his supposed best friend. This is where his brother sees the difference between Jace and his father; Jace knows that he is wrong...
The Kellys are not only Saul’s adoptive family but are also a source of support. When Saul lives with the Kellys, the importance of having a support system like them does not dawn upon him because of his fear of forming relationships. Consequently, Saul decides to leave the Kellys because he believes that his self-imposed exile can be beneficial for him. Saul believes that if he detaches himself from human interaction, it will impede any further suffering. Saul states, “feels like I’ve had enough noise and people for a while” (Wagamese 178). Delving into his past is mandatory for Saul to write his story because in order for readers to understand his present state, they must know the events that have transpired beforehand. When Saul looks back on the past he is able to see what decisions and actions have benefited him and which have not. For example, Saul is able to realize that every time he distanced himself from others, he only suffered more. This revelation makes Saul understand that despite his past negative experiences with individuals whom he trusted in the past, he should not completely deprive himself of human interaction. Saul returns to the Kelly’s and no longer fears to show his vulnerable side with them. Saul’s return is proof of him understanding that giving his pain a voice and having other people listen is what will allow him to trek through the pain of the past and the pain that future adversities could cause. Writing his story not only serves Saul to consider the lesson he can learn from living in isolation but also provides First Nations individuals with a lesson on how to deal with
Being from Halifax, Nova Scotia, February is a cold time of the year for most but due to Jace’s rich Uncle Stavros he is able to take a break from his daily struggles. But since coming from a dark past and a distant relationship with his family, settling down and relaxing seems unlikely for Jace Antonakos. Jace is left with much to contemplate about since he is the middle child of three boys. Unfortunately for Jace, he gets minimal attention for having a “perfect” older brother, Stefan, and a younger brother with child disintegrative disorder
This book was quite fascinating, but depressing as well. I have a picture of a boarding school because in the beginning of this novel Jam Gallahue talks about being sent to one in Vermont called The Wooden Barn. She was sent their by her parents because of “the lingering effects of trauma.” (Wolitzer 1) The reason she is so sensitive is because of a guy named Reeve Maxfield, a 10th grade foreign exchange student from London. Jam was in love with him, but he “died.” By the end of the book we soon realize the true story. He was dead in her mind because of what he had done to her. They were secret lovers, but he was also dating a girl named Dana Sapol. Well Jam thought he loved her, but one night when she saw them together she soon realized he did not. He just thought of her as a casual hook up. It was at that moment when she felt
.... It was necessary for Parliament to pass a special dispensation to permit execution of an insane person. She was forcibly carried struggling and incoherent to the scaffold where, kicking and howling, after many blows, she was finally hacked to death.
Time slowed. Men surrounded our bed and glared down at us. There was a collective breath. Then they reached for us. I tried to fight, but it only loosened my hold on Phibe, and she was ripped out of my arms like a doll from a child. My screams were probably heard all the way across the sea, in the old English town that I’d left for a better life. Phibe reached for me, her screams matching my own, but the man that held her snatched her arm back. There was a stomach-churning crack. Phibe screamed until her voice
But as a shadow flicks between buildings or a faraway window is shattered, a little voice speaks up telling you to run. It’s the awareness that, as a human being, you are no longer the apex predator- you are the prey. Now that little voice is screaming at me that something isn’t right. I should listen to it- I should really listen to it but the only thing running through my mind is that nothing will ever be right about the world now, and maybe nothing ever was. After weeks of contemplating the possibility of me being the singular survivor of an apocalypse that came too soon, the presence of this a blue-eyed boy assures me that I am not alone. The boy’s hand is clasped at the wound as I watch blood seep through his fingers and drip off his elbow onto the tiled floor. I am suddenly in awe of the events that have lead me up to this point in time; the events that have placed me here, standing on the broken glass of an abandoned convenience store’s window, pointing a gun towards a
”I caught a glimpse of his face. Saw the resignation in it. It was a look I had seen before. It was the look of the lamb...I stopped watching turned away from the alley… I had one last chance to make a decision. One final opportunity to decide who I was going to be. I could step into that alley stand up for Hassen - the way he’d stood up ...
Was Eleanor mentally healthy or unhealthy? In the book The Haunting of Hill House, written by Shirley Jackson, the main character was Eleanor Vance. She was a 32-year-old woman that showed signs that she was mentally unhealthy. After receiving an invitation to stay at Hill House from Dr. Montague, a stranger to Eleanor and the rest of the invited guests, she made the carefree decision to accept the invitation to the comfortable country home (2). She felt as though Hill House was her calling, even though she had never laid eyes on the property and had no knowledge of what to expect. There was no way to know if the doctor could have been a psychopath that wanted Eleanor for some crazed morbid “experiment,” yet she had
The old woman was merely a sickness . . . I was in a hurry to step over . . . it wasn’t a human being I killed, it was a principle! So I killed the principle, but I didn’t step over, I stayed on this side . . . All I managed to do was kill. And I didn’t even manage that, as it turns out . . .”
The culture of the 1970’s that can be seen in The House Next Door by Anne Rivers Siddons was focused around the suburban neighborhood, which began to increase in popularity after World War II. The soldiers had come home and only wanted a simple life, reminiscent of American dream. In my research, I found that this image of the American dream followed strict gender roles and life in the suburban neighborhood, which was only accessable to white people. This meant that the American dream was inaccessible to any other races, including Jews.
The Haunting of Hill House written by Shirley Jackson, and Tony Burgess’ People Live Still in Cashtown Corners, are horror novels. Both evoke fear in readers in dissimilar ways. The Haunting of Hill House takes readers on an ominous journey that creates feelings of uneasiness, while Burgess’ novel has a direct approach to create fear, right from a rampant killer’s point of view. Despite the differing approaches on the classic genre, Jackson and Burgess demonstrate that horror stems from isolation. Isolation negatively affects mental health, which produces petrifying chaos and destruction of oneself and others.
She stared in morbid fascination at her life draining away, violent sobs ceasing at the sight of each bloody drop. The blood soon coated her artist’s hands, then her leg, and finally the carpet underneath her. Realizing this was it, all the pain was finally going to be over, that no one would ever be able to throw cruel remarks her way again, she stretched out on the floor of her room, spreading her arms out in a twisted version of a snow angel. Red soaked the carpet, faster than she dared hope and dared believe, and letting out a twisted laugh, she sent one final ‘fuck you’ to all those who had said she was too weak to do anything for
...et the edge of the knife cut into the skin. It was dead within seconds, and I pushed the body to the carpet and it landed with a thud next to the baseball bat it had been dragging down the hall. I knelt down next to the body slowly. I turned it over and inspected its face. I looked deeply into the eyes of my now dead mother, but I felt no sadness, because to me she wasn’t my mother, she was my monster, because mothers are supposed to care if you ate that night or not, they’re supposed to be there for you no matter what, and she did none of that, so all I felt was relief. Relief that it was finally over, the times that this woman who was supposed to love me unconditionally, beat me until I couldn’t feel anymore and told me that she wished I was dead, were finally over. I smiled and placed the knife in her fist and walked out of that house. I never, ever looked back.
My heart was simply ripped apart. I could not believe it at first, but I knew I had to. After all these wonderful years and enthralling moments, I finally have to face God's greatest challenge. My mind wasn't as messy as before anymore and I couldn't even think of what to think. It seemed as if I had nothing to worry about, nothing to do, nothing to say. I was trapped inside this room waiting for the Grim Reaper to reap my innocent soul.