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More handpicked essays just for you.
Female stereotypes in literature
Dramatic monologue critical analyse
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Recommended: Female stereotypes in literature
"Wanna bet on it?" (Y/N) looked up at the 5'10 black haired 3rd year , sure you were just slightly shorter than him.. but that didn't matter she wanted to beat him ,she wanted to make him feel lost to her. "Tch, what makes you think I'll do it ?" "Winner gets ice cream" (Y/N) immediately stared up at his steel blue eyes. "Deal" ~le time skip to middle of basketball match~ Score was 25-18 he was beating you like if it was child's play (Y/N) was getting aggravated because of this.His smile like if you were just a child at an easy quick game. (Y/N) had the ball and started dribbling it towards the basketball hoop and right as she jumped and dunked it ; she felt something at the back of her foot. "oof" Then snap "Are you okay ??" …show more content…
is he alright?was he in trouble? all these thoughts of anxiety and stress ran throughout (Y/N)'s mind.It didn't seem to escape anytime soon so she decided to go to a specific Goldilocks to see what the absence was all about. ~ "KISE ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING?"you managed to scream up at him behind his little group of fangirls"o-oh sorry (Y/N)cchi!do you need something?"he said as he gave you his signature charming smile"do you know where kasamatsu-kun is? he wasn't here all day and i'm starting to get worried about him.."(Y/N) said not even noticing her panicked tone."ohhh kasamatsu-senpai is in the (hospital name) i …show more content…
As she arrived to the cute little hospital she quickly walked up to the front desk."u-um is Yukio Kasamatsu here?" she asked in a quiet small tone."Yes,He is in room 225"said the front desk lady.(Y/N) quickly gave her thanks and headed towards the elevator and pressed to lead it to the second floor. (Y/N)'s heart started beating quickly each second as she looked at each little number to find room 225 then her (E/C) eyes finally found the little numbers and opened the door. She was greeted by Kasamatsu in a hospital bed with his leg up and (Y/N)'s heart calmed down to see his appearance once again."Missed me? or did you just want to laugh that you made me break a leg"he said in a sarcastic tone. (Y/N) wanted to hug him and hold him right there on the spot but for some reason she couldn't do it she couldn't move or even make a single noise."b-be quiet idiot!"was all she could try to sound out while trying to look round the room avoiding his steel blue eyes that she could get lost in a matter of
“What was I doing up here anyway? Why did I let Finny talk me into stupid things like this? Was he getting some kind of hold over me? (1.32).”
Heather and Arthur had just come back from the lunch room, Doctor Jim and Nurse Patty were walking down the hallway with them. Doctor Jim was
A doctor, Dr. Musoke, and nurses immediately wheeled him into a room and began tr...
When the patient arrived in the room, the nurse identified the patient, and made sure she knew what procedure was ready to take place. He then helped the CRNA place the patient on the bed.
They follow the nurse to the room and sit in a office. Juniper is nervous biting the side of her thumb while Jake looks bored and uninterested on his phone. It's not long until a Doctor (y/c) comes in looking at her file “Juniper Dawson?” June stands up holding her hand out looking slightly flustered at the man “June.. hi.” Jake looks up at the man and says in a bored tone “Jake.”
I quickly sit up as the nurse’s and doctor's flood into the room. I look around noticing the parents outside the room. The mother's eyes full of tears. The father tried to calm down the mother without making a difference. I stand up and walk out of the room into the lobby.
She stepped forward towards him, he was still looking towards the horizon, his back turned away from her, " Draco, I understand you're scared, that you feel afraid and sad, but to fall so low as wanting to take your life, that's wrong, you can't do that. Just think about what would happened, how your parent and your friends would feel, they would miss." Draco interrupted her, " Miss me? As if they would, they don't care, because of my father I'm in this mess and I don't have any friends." " Well what are Crabbe and Goyle, your guardian fairies?" She asked back. "Friends, as if." he scoffed. " No one will miss me or care." Draco said, coming to a realisation. "Well I will, I'll miss you Draco." she whispered. " Why? You barely know me, I don't even know your name." he growled. Y/N winced, it hurt, but she knew he was only trying to scare her away and she wouldn't fall for his tricks. " I don't care if you don't know me, I'm involved now, if you did jump, I would have to live knowing I could of stopped you, Draco Malfoy could of lived if only Y/N Y/S stopped him. How do you think that makes me feel?" There was a beat of silence. "I understand that maybe you haven't had the best support in the world, that your parents haven't been
I was suddenly seized with great fright. the world as I knew it seemed to me strange even tiny almost nonexistent. this heat, which seemed to me to be overwhelming, seems to me almost reassuring, and I will even say almost heavenly. And in a split second everything stopped.
“¨Hello?¨ I said, his voice quaking as the rusty door swung open and hit the wall resulting in a booming echo. I cautiously stepped into the poorly lit room, preventing me from taking in my whereabouts. Confusion clouded my brain as, little by little my hope died down ¨ Ahh Alexander, you're finally here. Haven't your parents ever told you that it’s rude to be late?¨the a powerful voice filled the room. I could hear the smirk in his voice.
Locked. Locked in my own city. Mosquitoes fly past, like they want to tell me something important. I, Waldo Ping, feel trapped in this dreadful building people call the orphanage. I can just remember the day they left me, the sun was up
I wish I knew every single reason for why you'd left. I couldn't even begin to form the words to ask you all the questions in my head. I asked you why a week after you'd done it; I know it took so long, I just hadn't let it sink in because I tried to avoid the pain. You couldn't even answer the only text I sent you after you left. All my fingers could type was a simple "Why?"
The lights dimmed and as I blinked to focus, a hand reached through the darkness and nudged me forward. My stomach dropped and my mind went blank. Then the fluorescents blazed, the music began, and my feet started to move as if I was in a trance. I was not a small, goofy six-year-old but an elegant ballerina. My arms hit every pose, my feet precisely placed in every combination, and my little face full of glee.
You’re sitting in a back ally of an amateur theatre in Paris, fog settling on the cobblestones creating a sea of dappled grey. The year is 1870 and you had just been turned away from a backstage position at a small theatre in the western quarter in Paris, sadly your dreams had been crushed with a mere, “sorry (Y/N) you’re not what we’re looking for.” Crushed and dejected you took a moment outside to fall apart, you had only just moved to Paris from the country side and you needed a job. You had very little money to your name and you had rent as well as expenses to pay neither of which you could afford. “Come on (Y/N) pull yourself together,” you whisper to yourself, standing as you do so, your knees cracking in protest the cold seeping into
On the third floor of the hospital, they kept a cot that the psychologists used if they worked a late night with one of the hard cases. I crossed my fingers that it wasn’t being used tonight. I got into my work clothes and tried to skulk off to the third floor. Of course, I ran into Gabby. “Bert!
When discussing the poetic form of dramatic monologue it is rare that it is not associated with and its usage attributed to the poet Robert Browning. Robert Browning has been considered the master of the dramatic monologue. Although some critics are skeptical of his invention of the form, for dramatic monologue is evidenced in poetry preceding Browning, it is believed that his extensive and varied use of the dramatic monologue has significantly contributed to the form and has had an enormous impact on modern poetry. "The dramatic monologues of Robert Browning represent the most significant use of the form in postromantic poetry" (Preminger and Brogan 799). The dramatic monologue as we understand it today "is a lyric poem in which the speaker addresses a silent listener, revealing himself in the context of a dramatic situation" (Murfin 97). "The character is speaking to an identifiable but silent listener at a dramatic moment in the speaker's life. The circumstances surrounding the conversation, one side which we "hear" as the dramatic monologue, are made by clear implication, and an insight into the character of the speaker may result" (Holman and Harmon 152).