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Social impacts after 9/11
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She sat there silently, taking in the chaos that surrounded her. Her village now in smoldering ruins as the sun came up. She sat amongst the rubble, covered in sweat and soot, still numb from what she experienced the night before. It happened so quickly there was no time to react. The marauders came late and in such force, there was no time to do anything and nowhere to run. All around her in the darkness, she could hear the cries of her people and the maniacal laughter of the warring tribesman who had come to kill them all without any thought of mercy. She scrambled to her feet and threw back the woven door of her baked mud hut, squinting in the dark attempting to see what was happening. Her parents scooped up her two little brothers
When the Indians burned the town and made way to Rowlandson's house she turned to God for answers. Her house was set on fire forcing her and her kids to come out. When she came out she suffered a bullet to the arm and w...
‘Instantly, in the emptiness of the landscape, a cry arose whose shrillness pierced the still air like a sharp arrow flying strait to the very heart of the land; and, as if by enchantment, streams of naked human beings – with spears in their hands, with bows, with shields, with wild glances and savage movements, were poured into the clearing by the dark – faced and pensive forest.... ... middle of paper ... ... This demonstrates the lack of communication skills between each other, with dire consequences.
We were now at the bus stop. The sun had replenished and the sky full of glee. There was trail next to the bus stop, she started walking through it. The trees intertwined like arches and the shadows created an ominous feeling. As she walked through the forest, her whole body had a calm aura.
Her senses drifted away, causing her to experience a dream in which she talked to herself and meditated about her life. Although the young white hunter who helped her get out of the ditch was sort of disrespectful, there was another person that one might find more disrespectful. The harassment she faced throughout her journey was found in the environment. She had to go through a series of hills and bad terrain. The part she struggled the most was through the barbed wire fence.
There was a man with golden-orange hair and eyes dressed in uniform, along with some other men dressed the same way walking through a grey-bricked corridor. They soon arrived to a room with iron bars, obscuring the view inside. They had opened the door and on the floor of that tiny room was the golden-haired boy surrounded by a number of paper planes. He looked up at the officers, his face filled with surprise and fear. Two of the officers went behind the boy and struck him in the back, eventually pinning him to the ground while the man with the golden-orange hair picked up one of the paper planes. He unfolded it and read it while the boy was struggling to get up. Soon the man tore up the paper plane and let its pieces gently fall onto the floor. The golden-haired boy's eyes widened and his eyes followed the pieces. He soon screamed out of utter rage and got up, pushing the other two officers off his body. His hand balled up into a fist and he punched the man who had torn the precious little plane. Just when he was going to go for another punch, the two other officers grabbed him and dragged him off. The boy screamed and struggled to break free as his eyes filled with tears.
She has entered the ominous forest. I have to find out what and why someone has killed my friends, so, I dash through the woods, leaping over the bushes and the slippery rocks, hearing nothing but the girl laughing. Walking along the forest feeling the stubby grass beneath my feet, all I can think about is why it is so familiar. Each fragment of the forest is as though I have been in it before. The sound grows louder and louder like the piercing shot of a gun.
It all started in medieval Europe, at the castle of the great king. The moon was overhead, but the party would continue on for several more hours. The princess sighed while she was led across the floor by yet another young man vying for her hand. This one was a hopelessly awful dancer, seeming to have two left feet. If she had to wear these heels any longer, she might just sit down right on the ballroom floor!
The night was tempestuous and my emotions were subtle, like the flame upon a torch. They blew out at the same time that my sense of tranquility dispersed, as if the winds had simply come and gone. The shrill scream of a young girl ricocheted off the walls and for a few brief seconds, it was the only sound that I could hear. It was then that the waves of turmoil commenced to crash upon me. It seemed as though every last one of my senses were succumbed to disperse from my reach completely. As everything blurred, I could just barely make out the slam of a door from somewhere alongside me and soon, the only thing that was left in its place was an ominous silence.
I stand at the base of the tower, shivering in its shadow as I contemplate the task ahead of me. I look at my watch, it reads 3:00pm. All I have to do is climb up and jump. Then it should all be over. Easy enough, right? Damn it's cold. I remember my jacket, folded neatly on the passenger seat of my new car. I shouldn't have taken it off.
His eyes closed, asleep in his chair. Beside him sat a pile of used dishes. Ignoring the musty odour that had taken residence in the house many years ago, the man was the only one who lived there.
I patiently waited in a long line of cars outside of my boys’ camp. The sun beamed through the windshield and decided to attack me with its heat. As I sat there I could fill my sweat glands began to cry out and reveal their nature. I couldn’t have that. I hated sweating. So I knew that it would burn some gas but I would risk that gas burn if it meant me not having to sweat. I rolled the windows up and turned the A/C on. I sat for another two minutes before my car moved up some more. My thoughts went back to the strand of hair that I saw on Paul earlier. I knew that he was lying and I just wished that he would tell me the truth. I was holy and have always been a holy woman but I wasn’t stupid. I never made my thoughts known to him. I just prayed to God that this to would pass.
A young woman is walking home late at night after another long day at work. Her beautiful blonde hair tied up in a nice ponytail. As she walks alone on the sidewalk, she begins feeling a little uneasy. But despite the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, she continues on. Finally, After walking for such a long time, she spots an alley up ahead. In a hurry to get home, she decides to take a shortcut through the alley. Anyone with half a brain knows that heading straight into a dark alleyway is asking for trouble. Against her better judgment, she decides to go for it. It is so dark out that It would be almost impossible for her to see where she was going. That is, if not for a single street lamp that’s doing an okay job lighting up the area. Making it to
Her spry, Timberland-clad foot planted itself upon a jagged boulder, motionless, until her calf muscles tightened and catapulted her small frame into the next stride. Then Sara's dance continued, her feet playing effortlessly with the difficult terrain. As her foot lifted from the ground, compressed mint-colored lichen would spring back into position, only to be crushed by my immense boot, struggling to step where hers had been. My eyes fixated on the forest floor, as fallen trees, swollen roots, and unsteady rocks posed constant threats for my exhausted body. Without glancing up I knew what was ahead: the same dense, impenetrable green that had surrounded us for hours. My throat prickled with unfathomable thirst, as my long-empty Nalgene bottle slapped mockingly at my side. Gnarled branches snared at my clothes and tore at my hair, and I blindly hurled myself after Sara. The portage had become a battle, and the ominously darkening sky raised the potential for casualties. Gritting my teeth with gumption, I refused to stop; I would march on until I could no longer stand.
One afternoon, when the cold of the winter was starting to settle upon the edges of the village like a silent shadow, my brother left with Maura to the market for some groceries. Little Mathias was asleep in his bedroom, and I had already bored my mind off with no one to play with. Then I heard him. Paris had come into the room, barking mad as soon as he laid eyes on me. His loud howls hitting at my nerves like needles. I stood up warning him to be quiet, but he would not listen. I remember my temper suddenly slipping off. He was almost as big as me, but when I knelt down to scold him, accumulated anger in my eyes, I couldn’t stop myself. I wrapped my hands around his neck as he tried to run away and for a second all I saw was terror before I watched life drain out of his body. Maura and Toby arrived just minutes later to find me sobbing uncontrollably in the floor, not being able to look at the dead body a few feet away. The terrified expression in Maura's eyes and the bitterness underneath, still seem to haunt me, her thoughts clear to me as glass, monster. Besides that I cannot...
The women could not take it anymore. Driven insane from waiting so long for water to fall, the women were thinking about leaving. They had an important choice to make, stay in the village they lived in their entire lives or go somewhere else in hope of survival. They left the shade of the hut and walked across the dry, dusty ground. They went to inspect the ground to see if the corn and watermelon seeds they had planted had shown any sign of life. They wanted to cry when they saw that the seeds had not grown at all, but there were no tears coming from their eyes. They beat against the powdery ground in frustration. They went back to the hut to inform the rest of the family of the lack a progress.