Lily tried to open her eyes, but she just did not have the strength. Noticing the white blur hanging past her lids she guessed it was at least morning, or the bathroom light was left on. Either way, she blamed it on feeding the slow, but constant pounding in the back of her head. Even as she laid still, it seemed to be gaining the strength and curiosity to want to explore. Growing more aware she started to feel little whispers of pain popping up all over in little rhythmic beats.
She moaned.
Hearing herself seemed to cause the throbbing in her head to grow. What was just early awareness, a mere moment ago was starting to gain momentum. Memories were starting to trickle in like flashcards and she knew the levies would soon break, letting it all just flood in.
“Yeah,” she whispered. Rubbing her temples and starting to feel the floodwaters rush over her toes she almost wished he was there to knock her out again. “Right,” Lily said, remembering Rick had hit her. More than once if remembered correctly.
She could piece together parts of their argument, but not how it began. Only that he kn...
beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality
...e red lady blows a light, grayish puff of smoke in my direction and my eyes begin to twitch. My two brown eyelids flutter awake, and I slowly become aware of my surroundings. It is a late night in the city, and I can hear the streetlight buzzing above me. I roll onto my stomach and find the little girl in the same state as I had earlier, coughing incessantly. My stomach growls, and the car tires circle rhythmically on the warm, wet pavement. I awake from one nightmare, and continue to combat the real struggles in my life.
pressed down by a physical exhaustion that haunted her body and seemed to reach into
object she touched and named seemed to bring her closer to the rest of the world, which
She was young, with a fair, calm face, whose lines bespoke repression and even a certain strength. But now there was...
The intense smell was the first thing that caused Allison to toss in her sleep. Then a strong hand covered her mouth and caused her eyes to dart open as four cold, sharp points pressed into her throat. Her heart raced as the hazy outline of a deformed face loomed over her.
Her body jolted from the prickles of pain like needle stabbing her skin. Her eyelid slowly fluttered open. She remained stilled, providing adequate time for herself to adjust as the blurry fog began to dissipate from her
All the visions she just saw flashed once again before her eyes and she thought about all her loved ones. How their lives would be. She looked up broken hearted, knowing there was only one answer to choose. She knew it all along, deep down.
But I stared at her. I wonder what went through her mind, what thoughts were crashing against her skull. I wonder if she was scared, confused, or angry. Maybe all three. I had felt it all too, and there is still a part of my conscience that nudged me constantly, confused and lost in the chaos. There is only so much we could hold. I've seen other kids who've thrown themselves onto the ground screaming, only to be dragged away by guards.
This story relates to me in many ways, I’ve seen someone very close to me battle this disease and it is deadly. When I read this story, it made me feel uneasy. She was so sick and no one even asked her if she wanted to go get help or if she was even okay. With this story she becomes dependent on something the call drought and if you mix a substance with a disease, it becomes toxic. She got worse every day it seemed, her physical and mental health descended. What made me realize it was depression was her staying in her room all day. It makes you lock yourself away distance yourself, even when you don’t want to. A sorrowful woman is about a woman that is severely depressed and I believe is suicidal. At the first of the story she said “the sight
Her pale, bloated face wore an expression of imbecile happiness. Every now and then her eyelids closed, and for a few seconds she seemed to be dozing. Then with a little start she would wake up again杦ake up to the aquarium antics of the Tennis Champions, to the Super-Vox-Wurlitzeriana rendering of "Hug me till you drug me, honey," to the warm draught of verbena that came blowing through the ventilator above her head-would wake to these things, or rather to a dream of which these things, transformed and embellished by the soma in her blood, were the marvellous constituents, and smile once more her broken and discoloured smile of infantile contentment.
She talks about how it starts with a pain in her breast and a jolt in the heart. It quickly goes from there to a describing how her mouth becomes dry and how her tongue sticks. This further escalates to her feeling a fire beneath her skin. This fire causes her to lose sight and her ears begin to ache and "roar in their labyrinths" (Matthews/Platt/Nobel 46). From this fire, her body develops a cold sweat, and she starts shaking. Proceeding this, her body the becomes "greener than grass" (Matthews/Platt/Nobel 46). After this vivid description of anger and envy her body enters a state of numbness that she describes as "I am neither living nor dead and cry from the narrow between." (Matthews/Platt/Nobel 46). This masterful ordering of words has painted such a clear picture of her pain and reaction to
His name was Aylan Kurdi. He was three years old, a refugee escaping from war-torn Syria. Face down he lifelessly lies in the sand in a red T-shirt and pair of shorts. A Syrian Kurd from Kobani, a town near the Turkish border that has witnessed months of heavy fighting between Islamic State and Syrian Kurdish forces. He drowned after the 15-foot boat taking him from Bodrum to the Greek island of Kos capsized shortly before dawn on Wednesday, killing 12 passengers. Aylan's 5-year-old brother, Galip, and his mother, Rehan, were also among the dead. His father, Abdullah, was the only family member to survive to tell his story, but the picture is worth a thousand words.
"... she started pawing and ripping at him with her fingers, scratching his back and face..."
...ed eyes, vision growing fainter, body becoming paralyzed, and the hum of the hospital machines muting to a dull throb. And slowly I rise, rise into the escape of pure bliss.