Slowly I open my heavy eyes and take in the scene around me. Laying on a bed of cold tiles, I’m shivering. A foul smelling stench is filling my nostrils and I can feel a residue of foam on the corner of my dry lips. On the floor beside me lies the cause of the smell, I’m lying in a puddle of my own vomit. My body feels as though it is full of lead, unable to move, unwilling to. I’m tired and my eyes are too heavy to keep open, closing them I start to wonder, where am I? What day it is? How did I get here? These questions start swirling around in my head, repeating themselves over and over again, haunting me. Opening my eyes I see that god damn bathtub beside me, it’s dated pink colour and clashes horribly with the baby blue hexagon tiles on the walls around it. The longer I stare at the tub the further away it seems to move, filled with curiosity, I stare at the moving tub for what seems like eternity. It’s like I’m Alice falling down that rabbit hole, the ground I’m lying on feels as though it’s swallowing me up, the further the bath tub moves away, the further down that hole I fall. Then I see a face, it’s his face, it flashes before my eyes and I don’t know if I’m dreaming or if he is really here but looking into those crystal blue eyes gives me sense of comfort. The tub stops moving, ground underneath me becomes solid again and no longer feel as though I’m falling. Staring into his eyes I become lost in them, I like knew I could from the first moment I saw him three years ago.
I was seventeen when I met him, I knew from the moment I saw his crystal blue eyes they would be my downfall, how could I not melt a million times just looking into them. They were so piercing, so capativing, so beautiful, I just couldn’t look away. Ove...
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...ould be sitting high on your shoulders and you would be wearing smile that would tell the world just how much you adored her. You would see me and stop dead in your tracks, like you’ve seen a ghost of your past. After I walk up to you, we would exchange pleasantries, we would smile at each other, that smile would say the thousand words that we couldn’t. We would walk away amused, glad to know that each other’s lives have turned out fine, but just before too much distance would be put in between us, we would both turn our heads back, trying to steal another glimpse of one another. I would giggle at being caught and you would wink at me, and within that moment I would know those feelings we felt all those years ago were real and that we shared a secret, our little secret, that it is possible for an out of this world kind of love to exist… sadly it just can’t survive.
There I am lying, I am awoken by a bright shimmering, yet quite bothering light, I slide to my right to find my angelic husband Demetrious, he was breathing softly and faintly, I wrap my arm around him onto his buff body, and his eyes stare at me gracefully, I come to acceptance and find myself thinking how this happened, from hopeless back then, to happiest I could be, and all because of one man, he made me feel gloomy like when we first met, his eyes would affectionately stare deep into your eyes. His bright personality brightened up my day, that one special day, the most beautiful day of day, it was a sunny, warm yet quite balanced day, everything was going normally, then carelessly out the corner he came, Demetrious, and one problem was that he liked my hearty, hysterical good friend Hermia. Hermia had a generous and gentle personality, she had beautiful eyes and I was very fondly jealous of her, she got all the cute, boys that I always admired, yet one day things unexpectedly turned the other way around.
In loving you, I am slowly learning to love myself, something that has never happened before. I’m always so happy around you, my heart doesn’t feel heavy in your presence. My walls are completely down for you, being so vulnerable is a scary thought, though I know I can fully trust you to be there for me. In the past, I have given pieces of myself to people who did not deserve them, my heart to people who used me, looking for love in shallow places. From the moment I met you, I knew you were different. I could tell that you were a soft and sweet boy that wasn’t only with me for what I could do for you. You showed me that love can be pure and untainted with good intentions. I know I’m not the best girl in the world, but I’m always trying to be the best girl for you, doing my best to make you happy in the small things. My bed has never felt empty with just me in it before, though now when I sleep alone, it feels as though you should be next to me. I crave your warmth. There is no better way to wake up, than to wake up to your sleeping face, the handsome lines and curves of your skin that create the
Do you remember the first time we met? I do as I cannot shake the memory. It was love at first sight. I’ll never forget the feeling I had. A warmth overcame my body as you stoked a fire in my heart. It was like I had spent my life drowning in the sea around me and you were that breath of fresh air as I pulled myself out. My cares and concerns melted away. I was complete. You were exactly what I had been missing in my life. My better half you completed me you made me whole. Your touch, your scent, your glistening radiance I took it all in. I felt its force enter my body working its way to the very center of my soul. It felt like a real living breathing thing coalescing within my life force touching parts of me I never knew existed. You awakened some innate primal desire and I needed you at all times.
Damn one-hit-wonder-from-the-eighties-past music. I remind myself he is gone, and I have tried to grieve; it is time to move on. It has been fourteen years since middle school and eight months since he did it, and it is still right there. He is no longer here, but it doesn’t prevent me from feeling my love for him. I remember, and it stings because I cannot comfort myself with the idea that he is somewhere remembering the same shared memories I am thinking. I cannot comfort myself with the idea that he might sometimes still think of me. I can’t and don’t wonder if he is happy, or if he remembers how happy we were together a...
William Golding , the author of The Lord of the flies believes that evil resides in all human beings. The Lord of the Flies begins softly but nearing the end everything turns upside down. But would the world be the same way it is today without societal structure and rules? Only through societal structure, rules and order will humans be thought morality/principal and proper behaviour. The Lord of the Flies demonstrates what society would look like/resort to without any rules or guidance for man to follow. Others might believe this is true because of natural evil and actions done by individuals, a comparison through savagery and civilization, and certain truths in the world that are evil.
I awoke, frightened and alone, with a monster standing beside my bed. Although my body was paralyzed with fear, my mind was awake, trying to figure out how this hideous creature could have found me. As I gazed into the hypnotizing, dark eyes of this giant, the room altered, and I found myself, once again, in the basement of my father’s house. Surrounded with medical equipment, a rush of adrenaline pulsed through my tired body, forcing it awake. The monster walked slowly through the room, dragging his long, boney finger along the table. I remembered this basement very well, as I spent a great deal of time occupying it; however, there was something different, something was missing, something had changed. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Before I could spot the difference, an odd aroma began filling the air, making it somewhat difficult to breathe. Once again I found myself spinning, falling through a dark tunnel with no sense of direction or time, I closed my eyes tightly. Whenever the spinning sensation concluded, I opened my eyes. The aroma was stronger here, forcing tears out of my eyes and my dinner back up my throat. I knew exactly where I was…
11:14 p.m.-I slowly ascend from my small wooden chair, and throw another blank sheet of paper on the already covered desk as I make my way to the door. Almost instantaneously I feel wiped of all energy and for a brief second that small bed, which I often complain of, looks homey and very welcoming. I shrug off the tiredness and sluggishly drag my feet behind me those few brief steps. Eyes blurry from weariness, I focus on a now bare area of my door which had previously been covered by a picture of something that was once funny or memorable, but now I can't seem to remember what it was. Either way, it's gone now and with pathetic intentions of finishing my homework I go to close the door. I take a peek down the hall just to assure myself one final time that there is nothing I would rather be doing and when there is nothing worth investigating, aside from a few laughs a couple rooms down, I continue to shut the door.
...arate occasions; first time in the late nineties, as a betrothed, migrating temporarily to the western state; second time four years later, a ring added, and everything else the same. She lured me into her sensuous web with promises of heathen desire. Now U2 plays and other memories from my teens and early twenties come as I race across streets, bang on cars, rush to join a crowd that I no longer see, so keen and now … different. The girl, English accent, cute in my shirt, stands on the front porch after one of the many sexual expeditions, a relationship based on sex, drunken sex, never sober, and I have the customary cigarette while two other friends sit inside my shadowy glow. They feel my passion, or the remnants.
The desolate and chaotic conditions of the society can have a significant amount of influence on the development on a certain character of a novel. For instance, at the time the novel, Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky was written, the conditions of the setting, was very chaotic and was in turmoil. Crime and Punishment took place in Russia, where Russia during the time Crime and Punishment was written was suffering due to economical downfalls and failure of the poor reforms of Tsar Alexander II; ultimately transforming Russia into a poverty-stricken country. The failure of Alexander’s reforms affected much of setting in which Crime and Punishment was written in, which ultimately contributed in character development of Raskolinokov. This is evident through the use of metaphor, which Dostoevsky uses to compare the state of the country to Raskolinkov’s apartment.
His sheer beauty, aura, and personality made me drawn to him as moths are drawn to fire. This is the moment I decided I was going to love him and bore his children until the end of time. We started to see each other secretly for some time and our love only grew stronger as time progressed. He treated me as a proper Queen, and showed me new aspects of life I have not seen before.
I woke up to the pungent smell of hospital disinfect, invading my nostrils. The room was silent apart from my heavy breathing and the beep beep sound you often hear in hospitals that indicates you're alive. I slowly opened my eyes, squinting in attempt to sharpen the blurred images before me. I glanced around and took in the deserted, blue and white colour schemed hospital bedroom. How long have I been here? I shut my eyes, trying to remember what had exactly happened. Then it all hits me with a bang. The memory of it all starts to occupy my thoughts.
I awake to lukewarm water dripping down my forehead from a damp towel. I feel a thick liquid against my back. I scan the area, Unfamiliar. I find myself lying in a cot in a filthy room. The sight room itself was depressing, not that it was in extremely bad conditions but it was all…brown, the kind of brown that makes you feel depressed. It reeked of fish and motor oil, one of the queerest combinations of scents I have encountered. My ears start to pick up the deep monotones of a man speaking in other room. In my drowsy state I couldn’t make out exactly what he said but I did manage to g...
I can surely say that I won't be able to forget about our love story. You were the most beautiful thing that could ever happen in my life. The most tender feeling I have ever endured. Having you in my life and having the opportunity to meet you brought warmth, love, and passion to my heart and soul. The fact that we decide to go separate ways has filled my heart with coldness, sadness and fear, not knowing if you would ever come back to me and perhaps you would forget me bring tears to my eyes.
It was a dreadful afternoon, big droplets of rain fell directly on my face and clothes. I tasted the droplets that mixed with my tears, the tears I cried after the incident. The pain in my foot was excruciating. It caused me to make a big decision of whether I should visit you or not. I decided I would. I limped towards my bright, blue car where my bony, body collapsed onto the seat. I started the engine up but at the same time being cautious of my bleeding foot. I then drove to the destination where I was bound to meet you. I was bound to meet you after three years of counselling from my last appearance with you. I guess all I can remember is the scarring....
This picture, probably the only one in existence of all my friends together, has more meaning than it seems. At first, it appears to be nothing more than a happy congregation of teenagers, all from the ages of fifteen to sixteen. In the background you can see a fence enclosing a sand volleyball court. My friends that are kneeling on the bottom row are Shawn (who is affectionately known as Goose because of his long neck and his last name being Gosselin) and Paul. The ones on the top row are, from left to right, Brad, Matt, Kayla, Charlie, Jenny, Greg, Brent, and Daniel. I am at the far right side. You can tell by the expressions on some of their faces, especially Paul's, that they weren't quite ready for the picture to be taken, for more reasons than one. First, there was someone else taking a picture at the same time. Also, most of them never could have guessed that the picture would have to be taken in the first place. After all, I was supposed to be with them forever, right? Wrong. This was my going-away party.