Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
Scary short story composition essay
Essays about hauntings
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Recommended: Scary short story composition essay
What happy days they were the only really delicious days she had ever enjoyed, and how quickly they were over And then her discovery of the penalty she paid What anguish of that journey to the South, that long journey, her sufferings, her constant terror, that secluded life in the small, solitary house on the shores of the Mediterranean, at the bottom of a garden, which she did not venture to leave. A little farther on the road passed beneath a clump of trees, which hid a few houses, and they could distinguish the vibrating and regular blows of a blacksmith's hammer on the anvil; and presently they saw a wagon standing on the right side of the road in front of a low cottage, and two men shoeing a horse under a shed."Take the road to the left, close to the inn, and then go straight on it is the third house past Poret's. …show more content…
The courtyard, which was planted with apple trees, was large and extended as far as the small thatched dwelling house. On the opposite side were the stable, the barn, the cow house and the poultry house, while the gig, the wagon and the manure cart were under a slated outhouse. All was perfectly still; the house door was open, but nobody was to be seen, and so they went in, when immediately a large black dog came out of a barrel that was standing under a pear tree, and began to bark furiously "Is your father in?" "No." "Where is he?" "I don't know." "And your mother?"
“It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low. She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mourning notes without promise, devoid even of hope. She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro, down its whole length, without stopping, without resting. She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her. Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet. When she saw it lying there she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it. But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the glittering circlet.
The first thing I thought about after finishing the story was how routine the old woman’s trip to town was. The walk is described as a long dreaded walk through countless fields and an endless line of forest trees. In describing her routine I will point the different quotes and given situations that made me see a link to our societies circle of life. Her innocence can be seen as the representation of a child. As she walks she bends over and sips from a nearby stream she sensed, “sweet-gum makes the water taste sweet”. (A Worn Path, 1276) Here her curiosity also shows a strong relation between the child-old woman analogies.
The story opens by embracing the reader with a relaxed setting, giving the anticipation for an optimistic story. “…with the fresh warmth of a full summer day; the flowers were blossoming profusely and the grass was richly green (p.445).”
THE PAST :.. In days gone by, the four species managed to live in perfect harmony. Witches, werewolves and vampires lived in secret, blending in with the humans on a daily basis - and the humans remained completely in the dark about their existence. It was after thousands of years of living this way, whilst everything was completely normal, that a small group of vampires decided that they’d had enough. They spent months devising plans.
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.
There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning; but since dinner . . . the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and rain so penetrating, that further outdoor exercise was now out of the question. I was glad of it; I never liked long walks, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John and Georgiana Reed. (39; ch. 1)
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
In the beginning of the story we are introduced to a young girl and the setting for the story is laid out. It is through the setting and background information we can compare life to today and the way we live. The young girl is traveling through the woods with her grandmothers cow at dusk. “The woods were already filled with shadows one June evening, just before eight o'clock” (Jewet) The girl is about the age of nine and she is
A dreadful thing had happened — a dog, come goodness knows whence, had appeared in the yard. It came bounding among us with a loud volley of barks, and leapt round us wagging its whole body, wild with glee at finding so many human beings together. It was a large woolly dog, half Airedale, half pariah. For a moment it pranced round us, and then, before anyone could stop it, it had made a dash for the prisoner, and jumping up tried to lick his face. Everyone stood aghast, too taken aback even to grab at the dog.
I didn’t know what happened, but worse, I didn’t know what was happening. The sounds of footsteps neared my body, but I was too hurt to react.
Two days later, early in the morning we say goodbye to Gilbert's grandmother and in the company of the grandfather, a woodcutter and his wife settled us in the wagon pulled by the two horses from the farm, and grandfather, explained to us that we were a family in his way to a nearby village to a family funeral. The trip made on routes passing between farms in the region until we come to a village which we pass through and arrived at a farm where two young women, were waiting for us. There we say goodbye to Gilbert‘s Grandpa to the woodcutter and his wife, and they told us that these two young women wouldbe responsible of us and, would lead us to the following stage The Girls gave us to eat and they hid us in the high spot of the stable one
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
“ ‘I could’ve come, retorted Mrs.Hale shortly. ‘I stayed away because it weren’t cheerful--and that’s why I ought to have come.’ I-she looked around -- ‘i’ve never liked this place. Maybe because it’s down in a hollow and you don’t see the road. I don’t know what it is,but it’s a lonesome place, and always was.
When the sky started to grow dark, and the clock struck quarter to seven, he left his house and set off towards town hall. The town was a strange shade of blue, glowing in the twilight, and there was no one on the streets. Instead of street lamps, the wide avenues of Golden Oaks were lit by small braziers that lined the sidewalks. They burned a bright orange against the blue of the evening. The walk was short, and the night was warm, but still Jeb dreaded it. He was already half asleep, and he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep. But he knew that he had to go. The feast was in his honour, and everyone had been so nice to him. This is the perfect town, Jeb thought. I’m so glad to get away from all that trouble, and be able to live in a quiet town.
He stood before the great and crackled black house, built tall and lonesome nearly fifteen leagues from the nearest village. When the door opened he fell to his knees and knelt, in the way of an apprentice, and offered to serve. The wizened, gnarled man at the door regarded him as if he were a cow.