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Yearning for Familiarity
Thinking about my childhood, I remember many things that influenced me as a person and changed or evolved my perspective of the world, its peoples and its things. One of my most vivid memories that this essay is about, changed the way I represented myself to the world and the way I felt being exposed to it. -- Being lost or forgotten at a young age is a bone-chilling experience that all of us have to go through, at one point or another. So, here I was, at the age of three, left all alone at a carnival in Muscat, Oman.
Jumpyards were always my favorite part of the carnival that came once a year to Muscat to amuse kids and adults alike and show us all a good time. I remember playing around in the jump yard at the
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Tears streaming down my face, I kept walking ahead wherever my small, roughed up feet would take me unaware of the consequences of doing so. I felt tears roll off of my cheeks slowly, and then all at once. My shirt was wet and cold because of the salt filled tears, my nose was runny and I used my Winnie the Pooh hanky to wipe the snot away. Within seconds, my nose felt irritated despite the soft, microfiber of the handkerchief and my hands were tired. My vision became really cloudy and I could barely see where I was going. At this point, I had lost all hope and my heart felt heavy, pushing me down with every hurtful step I took. I wanted to sit down and wait for my parents to come to me themselves, so I did. I sat down next to the gate to one of the other rides and waited for what I thought was years of time. I remember getting strange looks from people, as they walked by and I kept wondering why. The ground I was sitting on was unwelcoming, rough, and littered. My pants would definitely need to take a spin in the laundry. Mom wouldn’t be too happy about this, not just the fact that my parents had forgotten me and left me to venture out into the world solitary but also the fact that my clothes were dirty and I had generally made a mess of
Zero awoke to find himself standing, it was not something he was familiar with and he searched his memory for any recollection of it happening before. Quickly he discovered that large parts of his memory were missing, gone were the seemingly endless data bases of information. Quickly he sent out feelers trying for a connection of some sort but he drew a blank. It seemed that where ever he was now, had limited connection capacity. Instead he used his visual feed to survey his surrounding, it appeared he was in some kind of desert of discarded parts.
Once upon a time deep in a large forest there lived a woodchopper, his wife, and their two children, Hansel and Gretel. It was a beautiful forest, full of trees, flowers and butterflies and streams. Matter of fact, the family had everything they could ever want except for one little thing.
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 one area we haven’t really discussed in detail is the amount of negative space on your walls. Not only do you need to be able to see the wall from floor to ceiling on as much of the wall area as you can, but also you need to be able to see wall space between the pieces that you have hanging. Keep a minimum of four feet of space between large pieces and limit the amount of small pieces you hang. Do not use small pieces as a way to fill in negative space. Negative space is the exact thing you are trying to achieve. You can hang a few small pictures together in a small and tight gallery style. This will allow you to display your favorite family photos without taking up negative space on the walls.
Life in the middle school and high school was not easy for me. I had become an introvert, I still didn’t know how to be social, and I had very few friends. I was teased for being very quiet, and some people insinuated that I’m scared of fellow people. On the other hand life at home was difficult. My mother had become so bitter and pleased her was next to impossible. She became very harsh with my brother and me, and we were always scolded for even the smallest mistakes. Once in a while, my father would come for us and take us to the city he lived. I would look out of the windows as we drove out of town and would imagine how life in another city would feel like. I looked at the skies, and all I saw were promises of a better future. All my life I had lived in San
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
Alonte’ was running to the pool. He jumped in with both feet and moved water with his hands. He looked up at his brother. Then walk out of pool and climbed up ladder with his left foot first then right. He sat the top the slide and watch Jayden go down the little slide first into the pool.
What I found most baffling was how I was completely oblivious to the control that alcohol had on my life. The family tried explaining the pliers-like grip it had on me, but they would further have to explain how I became very defensive when they did so, They indicated how I would incite arguments and become very ill-tempered in response to my inability to calm my cravings. However, I couldn 't even begin to conceive of myself displaying such behavior, especially towards my own family. Learning how my actions had hurt them in such a manner was perhaps the most difficult part to accept as it caused a mass of sorrow to fluctuate my heart and flood my eyes with tears on a regular base. I thought, endeavoring to wrap my mind around it all was literally incomprehensible. Still, something or someone had to be the voice of reason behind the broken furniture, busted walls, and smashed mirrors throughout the house. I came to grips with the fact that everyone could not have been fashioning the exact same fabrication about me and my sudden outbursts.
“Let’s go for a jog!” I said in excitement. “Don’t fall behind because I had gym today, so my feet are screaming to run again,” Alex jokes. “Then let’s go to the trail before it gets dark,” said Lilly. “On your marks, get set, GO!”
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.
There I was sitting at the coffee shop on the corner of First Street and Washington. It was a rainy and gloomy day, but I was beyond excited to get the inside scoop as to what began the Sunday at Noon journey. As I was sitting there with two coffees on the table a man approached me. To me he looked in his twenties but when he spoke I was taken back the man exclaimed, “Is that for me?” drawn back, I didn’t recognize him but the comical man that approached me was Jack Vanderpol!
Pushing past the exhaustion and the pain, Olivia slowly limped her way into the next room of the cave where a new prisoner had been brought in a couple of weeks ago. If only she had some kind of choices about what she could or should do. Any choice. When she first got recruited to take care of the group’s entourage, she surely didn’t know what she was signing up to. The injuries she saw on the bodies of the first two young males that had been placed in her careturned her stomach upside down more than once and part of her mind was glad their suffering were over.
An Ignited Reunion “Bye mom!” I called out as my mom ushered my sister and brother out of the house. I knew how she felt. Marcos and Jade were a handful. “Bye Maddy,” my mom yelled as she started to walk down the road, “Take care, we will be back soon!”
Drifting Away Short Story You could say I am the girl that everyone hates. The push over. The one who gets bullied everyday. The one who gets bruises constantly throughout the school day. Yes that is me.
“Hey sis, come over here,” Mei called “What is it?” I asked her as I started walking her direction. She was standing at the edge of the woods staring at something through the trees. As I stood next to her I noticed what she was pointing out. There was a beautiful village hidden in the woods, and it was full of elves.