Born abused raised to a soldier Life is an amazing thing just like Jeannette Walls’ in The Glass Castle. Add a sentence about her hardships. People are awesome and we do many great things in life. Some of us go on to making and creating amazing inventions and other gadgets. Some of us go on to doing heroic things with our life. Well all have great and amazing moments but sometimes we have not so great or even tragic events. I 'm not going to say I 've had it the worst like Jeannette, but I 've definitely have a story to tell. I have little memory in my head and I mainly have stories that I have been told. I grew up in a small one story house with about three rooms a bedroom/living room a bathroom and a kitchen, I can’t say it was cramped …show more content…
This story is not long at all. It started off just being light, but I started having trouble, so he told me mother it was not safe for me here and I moved out. That’s really it there. I ended up moving back into my grandparents house in Sandusky for another year until my mother found a guy who offered her a job and a place to stay. He was really nice to me the first time I saw him, he was playing one of my favorite games. He treated my mother right and my right as well, helped me in school and even played games with me on the television. He used to let me win, saying how good I was. I know now that he was going easy on me and being friendly and I respect what he did. I realised the game later on. He was on the top Leaderboard online worldwide and he let me beat him which brought down his record. He didn’t mind at all, this is my current father in law and I do not think of him at all as my father in law. He is my true …show more content…
Many think I will not make it and others are with me one hundred percent and are giving me nothing but support which is amazing. I am enlisting in the US Army as 31K (Military Working Dog Handler) I will have to go through a 27 week training. Nine weeks being at basic combat training and 18 weeks training to be a military police k-9 unit. This just goes to show you. Like Jeannette walls said “I lived in a world that at any moment could erupt into fire. It was the sort of knowledge that kept you on your toes.” Jeannette Walls, The Glass Castle. It 's true that I have as well and it takes a major amount of strength in order to step up and do the things that can’t normally be done. I close this essay with a message to anyone who may be reading this or even have the same troubles as me. Life will always throw challenges in your way, you will be lost at times and even scared to death. But in the end you will prevail. “Each day of life is a gift, that is why it is called the present”
Rex Walls While growing up in life, children need their parents to teach them and lead them on the path to a successful future. In the Glass Castle Rex Walls, Jeannette’s father, neglects to take care of his duties as a father figure in Jeannette’s life. In the same way, he teaches her to be strong and independent at a very young age. As we read through the story, we see the special relationship that Jeannette shares with her father. Even though he, in many instances, failed to protect his children, refused to take responsibility for them, and even stole from them, Jeannette still loved him until his death for two reasons: one, for his ability to make her feel special, and two, because he is a never-ending source of inspiration.
The day started with clear blue skies and not a cloud in the sight. The only noise that you could hear was a concert given by the nearby crickets, and a lonely bull frog singing nearby in unison. As the evening passes on a sharp snoring noise can be heard muffled softly.
The Glass Castle was overall very strange. Written by Jeannette Walls in her point of view, this book is her memoir that she wrote to share her story with the rest of the world. It won the 2005 Elle Readers’ Prize and the 2006 American Library Association Alex Award. The title comes from an unkempt promise from Jeannette’s father, but rather than seeing it as a letdown, Jeannette remembers it as a hope that things will get better, a trait she must have received from her mother. While The Glass Castle focuses mainly on her immediate family, she later wrote another book, Half Broke Horses, about her grandmother, Lily Casey Smith.
The first half of my book “The Cellar” written by Natasha Preston, was so good that I could not put the book down. The girl, at that point, had no memories which include her name and anything before she woke up on a dirty, bloody cabin floor. She looked down at her throbbing hand and found that two of her fingernails were missing.
Although there were many other things to worry about as I transported my flock, my mind still drifted to the merchant's daughter. The dark night sky gave my memory time to fade into familiar sounds and colors that made my recollection of that day clear and vivid.
“Men, for many of you, today is your first day training as a Knight of Camelot,” said Prince Arthur to the group standing before him. “And be grateful you’re not stuck in a torrential downpour as I was on my first day of training here on this very field. The sun is shining and I plan to work you hard.”
Closing Statement: So remember life is a roller coaster full of ups and downs and twist and turns, so enjoy the ride and all its experiences life throws your way with a positive outlook.
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
The Nightingale was an phenomenal work of fiction that incorporated parts of history that went unnoticed. I absolutely loved that Hannah had based this piece of work on Andree de Jongh who created an escape route out of a nazi governed Warzone. The way that Hannah married Jongh’s story with her own work of fiction was marvelous. Not only does it open our eyes to see how much we are entitled to, but also what it would to be like in a time of despair and poverty. Hannah shows you that you shouldn’t lust after materialistic and unnecessary wants, but love and appreciate what you already have.
As she sat on the floor, Hulga took a minute to think about what had just happened. After a while she came to the realization that she had been tricked and now she has to do something about it. She sat there and tried to formulate a plan of action, and she eventually decided that she would need to find something to help her walk. Now that Hulga knew what she needed to accomplish, it was time for her to put her plan in motion.
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.
I will always remember the moment my daughter was laid in my arms, there was no greater feeling. I was joyful and full of ecstasy. Fast forward a year later and it hit, like an ocean of bricks, I was depressed. My sweet little girl needed too much from me. She wanted to play, color, run everywhere and cling to me. I felt I could not be the mother she needed me to be. I was with her every second of every day, little to no adult interaction separate of talking to my husband. I needed out and to break free. Everything set me off and nothing could help me. My husband’s thoughts were I just needed to work and get out of the house, have more me time. What I needed was an escape.
As I saunter onto the school field, I survey the premises to behold people in coats, shielding themselves from winter's blues. The sun isn't out yet, but the place bursting with life and exuberance, with people gliding across the ice covered floor almost cat-like. The field is effervescent and despite the dire conditions, the field seems to have taken on a life of its own. The weather is bad and the ice seems to burn the skin if touched, yet the mood is still euphoric. The bare shrubs and plants about the place look like they've been whipped by Winter himself. The air is frosty and at every breath the sight of steam seems to be present. A cold, cruel northerly wind blows across the playground and creates unrest amongst some. Crack! The crisp sound of leaves is heard, as if of ice splitting and hissing. Squirrels are seen trying to find a point of safety, scurrying about the bare trees that lie around the playground. Mystery and enigma clouds the playing field, providing a sense of anticipation about the place. Who is going to be the person to spoil the moment? To kill the conversation?
It is difficult to write about an incomplete life. It would be absurd for me to say that I have led a good life when the developments of the future are yet-unknown, just as I could never bemoan my life for a spate of misfortunes. Nevertheless, there are many experiences I am glad to have had, and some I wish I had been spared. Yet every experience taught me something: experience truly has been the “teacher of all things,” as Julius Caesar once said. The most painful experience of my life, and that which most shaped my path, was the end of my relationship with my father when I was about nine years old.
I would like also underline the presence of sentences which invite us to the reflection, among I have chosen the next ones: “But in his view you could -and should- be able to embrace time and change and age without becoming a historical depressive” and “I would say that I am happy because I deride that modern conception. I am happy, to use that unavoidable term, precisely because I do not seek happiness”. Life is about enjoying and not worry about the past, it is about keep going no matter what.