Kurt just sat there for a moment before he asked if she was alright. He knew that she would answer with “I’m fine,” but he asked in hopes that she would just answer him honestly for once. Every night, he heard her crying herself to sleep. He knew that she was trying to be silent, but he had grown so accustomed to silence that even her small noises seems like thunderclaps. The countertenor new how she felt about him and Blaine inviting her to stay with them, but despite what she thought, the two boys actually enjoyed it a lot. Kurt had always been an only child, and when he lost his mom, he had wanted someone just to be there for him so bad. Now, seeing someone in his life that had just gone through the very same experience, he wanted to be …show more content…
The two were very happy to have her around, and there families were both very accommodating for her. He was snapped out of his thoughts by her quiet voice. “I’m fine…” She spoke as she wiped her tears away and looked at him. “Buuuut…” Kurt prompted. “But thank you…” Blue eyes widened as Kurt heard what she said. Maybe he really did have a chance for her to be warming up to him. He smiled softly and wiped off a stray term with his sleeve. “It’s all right to let it all out Ana..” He spoke as his own eyes misted over. “I know how hard it is to take in.” Even though it had been so many years since his mother had died, Kurt had never really been able to accept the fact that she was really dead. She was really gone. There were the times that he could have sworn that she was there only a few days telling him that she would always be there for him. A few tears leaked out of his own eyes before he really turned back to Ana. She was just sitting there silently watching him and smiling sadly. Her hand went to his arm as she rubbed it gently and nodded. For a while, the two just sat in silence as they both silently …show more content…
“Will you sing with me?” Ana’s brown eyes filled with water as he played the opening notes of Piano Man by Billy Joel. She had told him that the song was the couple’s theme song. Kurt started to sing softly as he watched Ana mouth the words. “It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday…” After a few more lyrics, Ana had joined in. “…. Sitting next to me, Making love to his gin.” The two made it most of the way through the chorus before Ana finally burt out into tears again. She knew he was only trying to help, but it still brought back some painful memories. The girl felt Kurt wrap his arms wrap around her once more, and this time, she didn’t even bother to try to push him away. Kurt couldn’t help bit feel a little bit better when she wrapped her own arms back around him. All he could do was sit there as he held her tightly to him. His own emotions were welling up as he thought more and more of his mother. It wasn’t long before he felt his own tears roll down his face and onto the top of Ana’s head. The two of them just sat there for a while. It wasn’t until the bell rang loud and clear that Kurt even loosened his grip on the girl. He didn’t say anything on how he could feel every single one of her
as she places her finger to her lips and says, "Shh". There is then a
When she finished with her morning ritual, I took her into the house, gave her a pat on the head, and grabbed my running shoes. My mind was still empty as I walked to my car, hit the automatic unlock button, and put the key in the ignition. I turned the key one click and the electric system forced the radio to blast into my ears. Simultaneously, thoughts I wasn’t aware were there came to the surface as I listened to Cutting Crew sing “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight.”
His other hand glided down her shoulder to her hand and she thought she might faint. Then he held his hand up, holding up her hand with his, her hand-holding Adam’s pen with a death
I brought myself closer to Nolan, pretending to be afraid. I laid my head on his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck. He slowly stood up, taking me along. It was hard containing a smile. I fake sniffled as he stared at me. The crowd's eyes were on us. Some people whispered saying "the girl has social anxiety."
So after a day we brought him in to read bedtime stories and have morning cuddles, just as we always had done. As far as he was concerned, she was asleep.”
...a situation arose where death was a possibility I would stay by his side no matter what. The End is my favorite part. Rose is on the wooden thing while Jack is in the water. Their conversation brings me to tears every time. She is freezing, she’s ready to give up, and he tells her “Never let go.” I’ve had my times where I just wanted to die. I’ve asked Shawn, “Can I just die.” And he replies with a soft no, kisses my forehead, and sighs. He can see the pain I’m in, but he knows it will get better. I’ve cried for hours on his shoulder cuddled up into my blanket, and he holds me and tells me everything will get better. He plays with my hair and makes me feel better. “I’ll never let go.” My relationship with Shawn I believe is like Jack’s and Rose’s. Full of life and love.
I’m fine.” She told him. Those were the first words she ever spoke to him. They were also the last. She hated that the words didn’t hold any truth to them.
Point of view is defined as the viewpoint a story is told from. In other words, it is who tells the story. Is it the main character, God, a third party (limited or all-knowing)? Each of the types of point of view is quite different, and each impacts the way a story is told.
It felt so dragged out because all I wanted was to see him and tell him the news. Our connection felt different, phone calls were made shorter and they weren’t as frequent. I missed him. Two nights had gone by without a phone call or even a message. This wasn’t typical of Luke. I was becoming increasingly worried. I tried to distract myself from the situation and went to Atlanta to visit my parent’s for the weekend. This provided a distraction from my despair. When I arrived home, the flat fell silent. I sat aimlessly on the sofa, starring at the telephone, hoping that maybe it would ring. I tried turning my television on but I was oblivious to anything around me. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I knew something was wrong. Fifty-five minutes passed, as I stared at the phone. That was when I heard it
"No, we had all kinds of fun. Let's see, we colored, danced, read some books, played with all the toys Karen sent along...all in the first ten minutes. Then an empty cardboard box caught his attention and we played with that for a the rest of the evening."
Petrified. The adrenaline began to build up inside me. That fear felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest. I would focus on my breathing to calm myself down. The swim suit I was wearing was tight enough already, but it almost felt like it was getting tighter on my body, restricting me from breathing normally. Thoughts were running all through my head. What if I fail my teammates? What if I don’t do good in my race? What if fear takes the best of me?
The short story, “The Yellow Wallpaper,” written by Charlotte Perkins Gilman focuses on a young woman’s psychological downfall and her fascination with the wallpaper within the house she and her husband are living in. The woman begins to believe that the wallpaper is coming alive, which leads her to become confused with reality and fantasy. Gilman selects the crazed woman as the narrator of the story. Furthermore, Gilman uses first person point of view to effectively convey the woman’s emotions and feelings during her mental decline.
It was about one-thirty in the morning in the town of Homestead Michigan. The almost florescent light of the moon bouncing off the fresh puddles that covered the ground. The grass and trees were covered in a thin layer of water causing every little beam of light to reflect back up. Anyone who may have been outside at this time would have without double, smelled the mix of fresh dirt and night crawlers. As the moonlight started to fade away through the cloud cover, three buses made there way through the streets and parked in front of HHS, the local high school.
“This is the last time,” the girl said as she took her index fingers and forced them down her throat, and watched as the remains of her dinner erupted out of her body. The girl got up and cringed as she saw the remains of her Caesar salad spun around the porcelain and silently slipped away.
There was a girl named Kandy, she was 15 years old. Her life was extremely boring, all she ever did was go to school, go on her computer, eat and sleep. She spent all summer on her computer. She was really good with HTML and spent her free time making web sites. Kandy didn't have many friends and rarely talked to guys because she was shy and unconfident about her looks. That's why she went into chat rooms. She made a web site with pictures of herself on it and told people in chat rooms to go there. A lot of people would tell her how pretty she was and some would say she was ugly. That made her feel awful. When anyone would say anything nice to her, she wouldn't believe them and think that they were just making fun of her. She only had one real friend that she could talk to, her name was Ang.