“I remember walking along this dark hallway.” “Go on,” the doctor urged quietly, behind his thick-rimmed glasses. He slid back into his chair and gripped his pencil tighter. A fan turned slowly, bathing the room in amber light. “The walls had this strange wallpaper, striped like they were in the 70s, but different. The stripes would bend at odd angles every now and then, or maybe it was just the way the paper was peeling. It was just strange. There were unpainted doors on either side, with labels in some language I’d never seen before. They went on for what seemed like miles, and it felt like a hotel, but it was different. There was some kind of un-ending feel to this hallway, like it went on forever. I kept following it for what seemed …show more content…
“I assure you, you are not alone. What was your first memory when you woke up?” The man gripped his cane and cocked his head. “I don’t...” he started. He tapped his cane with his fingers uneasily. “I remember looking at you, sitting on that chair. Taking notes. I must have... I was trying to see what you were writing.” The doctor smiled and craned his head forward. “Are you not blind? You have been for seventeen years. You weren’t attacked outside The Golden Flush. You were gambling with your drinking buddies and you were all were too drunk. Your friend Daryl believed you were sleeping with his wife and confronted you outside, remember?” The man suddenly stood up and his gaze widened. “I’ve been seeing all of this time? Why haven’t I noticed? It’s been years!” “You were seeing in your dream.” “But that’s different. Blind people can see in dreams doc, you know that.” The man was breathing heavily, becoming aware of the fan which had started to spin like a propeller. The pages on the clipboard were fluttering violently. The doctor had risen and walked across the room to a dark mahogany door. He was shorter than the man had expected, with an almost crumpled frame and a face that seemed too small for his shelled
All through the story the yellow wallpaper acts as an antagonist causing her to become very annoyed and disturbed. There is nothing to do in the secluded room but stare at the wallpaper. The narrator tells of the haphazard pattern having no organization or symmetrical plot. Her constant examination of and reflection o...
“I was so surprised! I couldn’t believe it was actually him. A rush of adrenaline went through my body. Along with being in shock, I felt some sort of relief and happiness.”
When the doctor came to the stand you could see the weight that had encumbered him. He had dark sags under his eyes. Wrinkles plagued his face. He was much too skinny and his white hair had been cut to a close shaved. Most notable, though, was the lack of life behind his eyes. Anyone could see that he was tired of politics and weapons.
He wondered if he had gone mad. He covered his ears with both of his hands, but he could still hear the garbled voices that were echoing around the room. He sat for a moment behind his desk and slow his breathing telling himself that he was simply tired.
In “The Yellow Wallpaper”, the author, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, through expressive word choice and descriptions, allows the reader to grasp the concepts she portrays and understand the way her unnamed narrator feels as the character draws herself nearer and nearer to insanity. “The Yellow Wallpaper” begins with the narrator writing in a journal about the summer home she and her husband have rented while their home is being remodeled. In the second entry, she mentions their bedroom which contains the horrendous yellow wallpaper. After this, not one day goes by when she doesn’t write about the wallpaper. She talks about the twisting, never-ending pattern; the heads she can see hanging upside-down as if strangled by it; and most importantly the
“Thank you,” she said politely and waited for him to disappear again. He didn’t. Instead he lingered awkwardly in the doorway like a stray cat. “Is…” Madame Giry began hesitantly, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
“I’m dying,” said Burton. “Just days ago, for the first time, I bled from a wound that I couldn’t heal.”
The narrator felt confident and comfortable with being treated by this physician with only knowledge of an office. However, this was not the physician’s office and he is lead to another office; one that is barren and anonymous. His opinion of the doctor quickly changed as he noticed small details about the physician’s demeaner and appearance; the physician did not appear intense or determined, he was too polite and soft looking, and he spoke as if he was playing a part. The environment of the physician and his workplace left a negative impression on the author. The author believed that the aura of a physician should be that of a magician and the lack of style lead him to search for a different doctor. Later, the author discussed how for a patient and physician to reach each other the mood of the hospital should be modified. Hospitals are known for being large, confusing, sterile, and associated with illness. Additionally, this can lead to the thoughts of physicians and the experiences of patients to be
Leo opened his eyes and sat straight up in bed. Ella stood over him, a horrified look on her face. “What? What do I have on my face?” he said, rubbing his face. Sadie started to laugh. “What is she doing in here?” She covered her mouth with her hands. “Shh! Don’t yell! We were attacked and the raiders are searching the cabins for anyone they can challenge. We’re hiding,” Ella said, holding a finger to her lips. “And we don’t want to wake Artie and frighten him,” the Doctor whispered. Leo jumped. He had forgotten the Doctor was in here. “And the TARDIS is not an option, they already took it. She isn’t going to be happy when they open her up,” he was saying. “Who isn’t going to be happy? River or the TARDIS?” Sadie asked. “Probably both,” the Doctor said. “Well I’m going to slip into the bathroom and change,” Leo said, trying to avoid thinking after he had just woken up.
When I was younger I was not so smart and would do questionable stuff all the time. I would jump from boulders to other boulders, climb on top of chairs, and even try killing snakes I would find in our yard. One day I learned a lesson from going on one of my self proclaimed adventures with a good friend.
“Raise your hand if you’ve ever been through a hard time,” Nick announced during the
The boy realized that his teacher was awake, and brought his face closer to hear better. “What?” His voice trembled.
“You made me come to the doctor’s office with you, to hold your hand, because you were afraid.” I stayed quiet and watched as he pulled out a large syringe from the bin.
“Oh thank God, I thought you were dead,” He stated. He looked familiar. He had brown shaggy hair and eyes so dark they were almost black.