Elise hastily rushed to her tent to tend her father, named Jarvan, because of a horrendous wound that was made from a plasma bullet. The wound was turned into a hole in the skin after the plasma instantly evaporated. It took several hours to stop the bleeding using a cloth. As Elise’s father was resting, she went to find some valuables that might have been with the dead body that she had killed. Unfortunately, the body was gone and she came back empty handed. As soon as Elise came back, my father and I talked about the missing body and the ways we can leave this foul planet.
The next day, they met a girl named Tristana. She told us about her journey on this planet. She came to this planet with her friend Joe in order to become rich by selling
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Using the handle of a survival knife, She struck Elise on the head and was instantly knocked down. Then Tristana grabbed her plasma gun and aimed at Jarvan. Quickly, Jarvan put on his headset and created a shield around his and Elise’s body. Tristana’s gun made a small chirp sound as she shot it. This time, the bullet made an impact but it didn’t penetrate through the Orlacs. In a matter of seconds, Jarvan created a sword and used his last amount of energy to rush to Tristana. The gun was charging to shoot the next bullet. Shunk! The sword went through Tristana’s abdomen. “It’ll still be over for you old man”, mumbled Tristana. She shot the last bullet onto Jarvan. This wasn’t an ordinary bullet. Instead, it was a bullet that can manage to go through the whole body with ease. Elise woke up and saw Jarvan with a giant hole in his body and Tristana with a sword stuck into her body. After, Jarvan and Elise both fell down on the field. The blood dripped all the way to where Elise was. Elise ran to Jarvan to give him a last goodbye before she left. To remember, she filled Jarvan’s hand with the flowers that she picked along the way. With tears dropping, she went inside the
Oh dear! I can't believe what I just did, it was so hilarious, I hope
Takayuki watched helplessly from outside the surgery. Anguished. Relentlessly he beat against the cold steel door. Why did you have to leave me? Bursting into tears, the orphan’s body began to spasm violently with each powerful sob. The surgeons looked on helplessly…
First came the pride, an overwhelming sense of achievement, an accomplishment due to great ambition, but slowly and enduringly surged a world of guilt and confusion, the conscience which I once thought diminished, began to grow, soon defeating the title and its rewards. Slowly the unforgotten memories from that merciless night overcame me and I succumbed to the incessant and horrific images, the bloody dagger, a lifeless corpse. I wash, I scrub, I tear at the flesh on my hands, trying desperately to cleanse myself of the blood. But the filthy witness remains, stained, never to be removed.
Laughter tinkles into the backyard where we sit around a crackling campfire. Jeanie and Wanda, along with their niece join us. My sisters jump up, grab Leveah and dash to the front yard. Warm smiles glow on our faces as we watch them go.
Since they came into the world in the ocean, they have to go along on the rescue mission. They came to an island and they had to find food and supplies. Eustace decided to go rest for awhile and found a place up a hill. When he wakes from his nap, there is a thick fog and he thinks he knows the way that he came from. He walks down into a valley, sees a pond, and decides to take a drink.
Hollow eyes glanced around the pristine apartment, the gray scale color scheme seems to match the women clasping her hands together, pursing her lips and searching for approval from the girl that stood in the doorway. Automatically, the girl deduced the woman was quite wealthy, especially in the neighborhood she'd now live in. The streets were busier, filled with nicer cars instead of busted ones without their fenders falling apart at the edge. Her nimble fingers explored the wall as she took careful steps into the living room. Winnie wasn't acclimated to this life style: the wallpaper wasn't being striped at the corners, stainless carpets without nothing questionable left behind, no sign of undesirable critters, and silence. She could finally
“squick”! “Bang”! I walk in trying to find out where i’m going. Fast. Before anyone notices me. My mom is a vet and i really want a dog so bad! “Lily” said my mom. “squick” my mom enters the room seeing me look at all of the dogs. “Mom can i please…..” “Do you really want a dog this bad”? My mom asks. “Yes and i will do anything… anything” i say in a soft way. “Fine but only if you take care of it and clean up after it”. “thank you.. mom.” I whisper as my mom leaves the room. “Now it’s time to pick out a dog”.
I sit here waiting, waiting for the day for the I can be free. Free from work, free from these awful people, free from everything. I wish I could just settle down at my own place where I can grow my own food, farm my own land, be my own boss. I already dont have to worry about Lennie getting in any trouble. I guess I'm halfway there. It could just be me on my own, on a little farm, with some chickens, maybe some pigs or a cow. I can grow my own food. I know how to cook, I’m not too bad. I can teach myself some things. I can even go into town every saturday and trade in some of my things. While I'm there I can visit Lennie's grave, maybe bring him some pretty flowers. Oh I'm sure he would like that. I really do miss that sun of a gun.
Often times when we think about the dramatic monologue the thing that might come to mind are monologues that are often seen in Shakespeare’s work whether that be Hamlet’s monologue To Be or Not to Be. Or the dramatic monologue that is echoed in Romeo and Juliet when Juliet cries out, Romeo, Romeo, Wherefore Art Thou Romeo? The dramatic monologue is defined as a type of poem where the speaker is talking directly to a person or addressing another person. Normally in these types of works the speaker speaks alone which is known as a one-way conversation. The setting is typically dramatic, in the sense that they have a theatrical feel to them, but also its intended to be read to an audience.
It has been a few weeks on the island. I choose to be Ralph’s side, because he was the only one to personally speak to me. An everyday image for us group of boys is Jack and his hunters hunt while Ralph, Simon, and I build shelters and Piggy and the littluns build a rescue fire. Jack harassing Piggy and then going to bed musing about being rescued. Today was different though. Today we are going to find out if the beast is real. We have been walking through the jungle all day listening to Jack and Ralph argues about being chief, which, is getting on my last nerve. As the sky changed into a dark shade, Simon volunteered to go back and help Piggy with the littluns. I don’t know why he wanted to go back alone but if anyone would sacrifice, it would be him. We reached the mountain! Jack went climbing up on his own while Ralph, and I waited for him. Eventually we decided to go up. “There was a slithering noise high above them, the sounds of someone taking a giant and dangerous strides on a rock or ash” (Golding 121). As jack came down, he had a croaking feel to him. He said he saw something bulge. Ralph and I decided to go take a peak. When we got to the top, we saw a creature.
“Get the doc now!” Mother shrieked. Bump, crash, bang, the stretcher carried my lifeless body down a populous hall. “Get and I-V now! Heart beats are slowing, we may need resuscitation, get me the shocks now!” “Oh my lord, no please don’t take my boy lord! Not now…” My mom snuffled. *Whimpers and cries”
Blanche Dubois, a refined and delicate woman plagued by bad nerves, makes her first appearance in scene one of A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams. She unexpectedly arrives in New Orleans to visit her sister Stella Kowalski who ran away after their father’s death. Upon their reunion, Blanche is sharp-tongued and quick to state her shock over the unsavory status of the apartment in comparison to the luxurious plantation where the two sisters were raised. Though dissatisfied by the living conditions, Blanche quickly explains that she had been given leave of absence from her teaching position due to bad nerves and could not stand being left alone—her excuse to invite herself to stay with Stella for an undetermined period of time. It
The teachers come, a large man begins CPR while the girl remains benevolent, in a matronly position, kneeling and cradling Al’s head in the cushion of her palms. Through it all she does not look up, even when spurts of blood from Al’s mouth reach her face and eyes, that blood built up within his orifice gurgling and geysering with each push of the teacher’s fists into his lungs. She does not turn from her grisly heroic task, though her arms shake from restraining and then supporting Al’s head, as she calmly reassures others that it will be all right. After seeing Al safely away with the EMTs, she takes only a few moments to collect herself, then, claiming no credit...
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).
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