Facts started running together like a race in my mind, useless dates in Air Force history that meant absolutely nothing to me at this point in my exhaustion. “Why don’t you take a break, honey” my husband said to me as he found me staring into the computer screen. “It’s still early come back to bed.” I stared at him like he was the devil. Thanks for reminding me, I thought to myself. Only a couple more hours and I’d have to get Lexus out of bed, fix lunches for the day, and get myself together.
“Why do you look so tired?” my mom questioned scanning my gloomy, worn-out face. “Um, well… I slept late last night perfecting my homework,” I stated tiredly, hoping she would just go away and leave me alone as I did my homework. “Wow,” she said sounding a little bit disappointed, “you should just take a nap!” “Nah, I need to finish my homework.” “Okay, Sophie,” my mom responded unsurely. Glad that she had finally gone away, I continued reading the section my science teacher had assigned for homework in the textbook. In minutes, I was fighting to stay awake as I read the awfully boring section.
Of Cloudless climes and starry nights...?” Oh no I had broken the spell! Now I understood what the prophet of the desk had meant. I mumbled some nonsense about an unrequited love, which seemed to satisfy my professor. He seemed to think he had reached his quota of in-class discussion with my comment, so he went on talking to himself, completely self absorbed. In my desperation to find the safety of a daydream yet again I began to scrawl in deep, dark marks on the desk, “LLH was here.”
However, in Sethe’s perspective, they were forced to become introvert because they knew that other people would not talk to them or visit them. The daughter of Sethe named Denver did not have any friends in her whole life. She was always lonely and felt shy to share the feelings she had in her mind. She suffered from being lonely because she had no friends to talk, no relatives to meet, or no neighbors to ask about how they were doing. As a result, Denver would sometime go to the front door of their house and wait for someone to come and visit her.
“Yea?” She asked as she peaked into my room. “I love you” I whispered softly. “I love you too, now get some sleep” she said flipping my light off. I lay there for a long while watching my ceiling, then came the soft muffled sobs. They broke my heart but I let them come and only once they stopped did I finally drift off to sleep.
The day of my interview I was excited I "knew" I wasn’t going to get the position, but secretly I wanted it, but again this is not something I am fit for, nor will I get it so why am I excited? I felt as though my interview went well, but again, I barely passed high school, I am not smart enough, I probably bombed the interview, and I am just that
I never in my wildest dream thought that I would be attending college. It was something so far out of my reach, or at least that is how I felt. When I was a teenager; I kept having a nightmare. After I finished middle school I was living hell at home, so perhaps in a rebellious way, to my father at least, I refused to go to high school. My father gave me no choice, but to start working, so I did.
I still do not understand the concept of going to school early, everyone is completely out of it anyway. If I had my way, at this time I’d be lying on my bed fast asleep. Brushing my teeth I choke on the minty toothpaste, making my throat sting, as I realise I haven’t done my maths homework…again! Sitting nervously, wracking my brain for yet another excuse as to why my homework’s missing, whilst eating a hot bowl of porridge, the most ingenious thing I could think of was “my dog ate it”- and that never seems to work. Arriving and dragging my feet through the gate into the old, daunting school is probably the most unbelievably depressing part of the day.
The first day of anything is always the hardest part. That is why I knew the first day of college would be no picnic. No amount of notebooks, pens or sticky notes, could prepare me for the new atmosphere I was about to face. I had to get used to a whole new set of classrooms, students and instructors. That was the only thing I dreaded.
But this time was different and worse; it looked like she passed away but everyone was afraid to ask. No one went to the house and the only move that you could see was her black cat which used to sleep in the porch right next to the door. If you were walking and had to pass right in front of the gray and scratchy house you could feel the cat looking at you. People started to say that something was wrong in the house and it looked like haunted by the old lady.