I didn’t want to say goodbye. I couldn’t believe he was leaving; and for three years. “I’ll be here when you get back.” I promised him. “I’m counting on it.” Trey replied. Trey was in the Army. He was being deployed to a place he couldn’t tell me and for three years at the least. Tonight was my last night with him. We had a blanket set out on the beach, laying side by side; my toes grasping the sand and throwing it back to the ground. We fell silent for awhile listening to the waves come in and out and hearing the chirping of the crickets in the dune grass behind us. As we sat on the beach, my head against his shoulder, he played his guitar. I sang along to the tune, the lyrics flowing out of my mouth. The moon was beautifully shining …show more content…
He almost never writes less than a page and I usually always got an ‘I love you’ at the end. This time I got one sentence. I let it go, assuming he was in a rush and tried to focus on the fact that he’d be home in three months. I walked to ‘Manhattan Mocha’ the next morning like I had for the past 2 years and 9 months because it reminded me of Trey. When I approached the door, I froze. There was Trey. Sitting at a table with another girl. My view instantly became blurry with tears. I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t him over and over again but in my heart I knew it was. My mind started racing. I ran and ran until I couldn’t run anymore trying to get the farthest away from that place as possible. How could it be him? He wasn’t supposed to be back for another three months. It’s not him. It can’t be. A hand grabbed my shoulder. I hoped and hoped that it was Trey coming to tell me that it wasn’t what I thought it was. When I turned around, I saw that it was Cody. He hugged me and I let myself cry into his shoulder. My mascara dripped down his shirt but I didn’t care and I don’t think he did either. “Maybe it wasn’t him?” Cody shook his head. “He didn’t even tell me he was coming home. He didn’t even come find me.” I continued. Cody just
For some, coping with death is the end of a journey, but to others, it is the beginning of change. The novel, The Hero's Walk, explores the meaning of this statement through the death of Maya. Because of her death, the people who are close to her, such as her father, Sripathi, begin to suffer. However, he eventually experiences a positive change after coping with her death. In Anita Rau Badami's novel, The Hero's Walk, Maya's death is a major turning point which affects the life of Sripathi; ultimately, this loss contributes to his major character development.
“I don’t know,” I paused. “I just really miss him,” I said, my voice cracking. Dally’s eyes filled up with tears, and Soda cleared his throat. We sat in silence drinking our pop, and then decided to go back into the car and drive home. At home I went straight to bed. Soda and Darry stayed up and got themselves
The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail. (excerpt-Faulkner's Nobel Prize acceptance speech)
The recent death of Riley Hughes and numerous other deaths of babies arouses the attention of the public to the serious issue of anti-vaccination and whether or not parents should vaccinate their infants. In the opinion piece entitled "Don't let any more babies die because of anti-vaccination lobby" published in The Herald Sun on March 24, 2015, author Susie O'Brien targets especially the anti-vaccinators parents of the young children, in addition to the general adherents of it. Accordingly,it professes the opinion of the parents should definitely vaccinate their infants to preclude them from suffering from the fatal diseases. Consequently, the incipient tone that O' Breins used is distressed towards the fact of a number of babies died from
Although death seems to be a theme for many literary poems, it also appears to be the most difficult to express clearly. Webster’s Dictionary defines the word “death” as, “A permanent cessation of all vital function: end of life.” While this definition sounds simple enough, a writer’s definition goes way beyond the literal meaning. Edwin Arlington Robinson and Robert Frost are just two examples of poetic writers who have used death successfully as the main theme of their works. Robinson, in the poem “Richard Cory,” and Frost in his poem, “Home Burial,” present death in different ways in order to invoke different feelings and emotions from their readers.
This is crazy. Why am I afraid? I’m acting as if this is my first funeral. Funerals have become a given, especially with a life like mine, the deaths of my father, my uncle and not my biological mother, you would think I could be somewhat used to them by now. Now I know what you’re thinking, death is all a part of life. But the amount of death that I’ve experienced in my life would make anyone cower away from the thought. This funeral is nothing compared to those unhappy events.
In his novel, As I Lay Dying, Faulkner embodies the ideal tragic hero through Darl, the central protagonist and narrator. Throughout the story, the characters are constantly confronted by misfortune and struggle; the trek to Jefferson for the Bundren family is rife with mistakes and misjudgements. Despite Darl’s determination to free his family from this struggle, his dedication to his family leads to nothing but a fruitless endeavor. Furthermore, his actions ultimately result in his mental downfall. Darl functions as one of the main instruments of the suffering of his family members.
I was screaming but no words came out of my mouth. I hated myself for ever falling in love with him. I hated myself for even being capable of love. The doors open. I run to the balcony and overlook the city.
I woke up and, as usual, checked Twitter. I began seeing tweets saying things like “RIP Trey” and “You will be missed. ” I was not sure certain whom everyone was talking about, but I knew only one Trey. I turned to my friends and said, very warily, “I think Trey Arsenault is dead.”
My father, my sister, and myself went into the room prior to going to the waiting room to say our final goodbyes to Aunt Tammy. We went into the room as my Uncle Travis and his wife and kids were walking out. We walked right beside her and stood there for several minutes. As our turn was reaching the end of its time Haley walked up to the bed and held her hand then kissed her forehead then I did the same. Her hand was slightly cold and I could feel the vain on the top of her hand.
As months went by, not a minute passed when I didn’t think of him. I
Until I heard a voice behind me. "Hey, Ad. " My blood boiled, I had already seen him once today why
Jillian could see the embarrassment make his face red. She knew what it felt like, liking someone and how it felt when it clicked. So acting oblivious, she continued, “So when are you going to give it to her?” “I thought that I could give it to her this weekend when I go back home.” he mumbled.
It was with considerable ease that I was able to procure the logs that are to fuel the extinction of my being. Nevertheless, it is increasingly cumbersome to travel miles from the forest that resides in this implacable tundra to the edge of the frigid ocean, which was decided to become my funeral site. This round trip back would be my last. The sledge dogs showed signs of lethargy and inanition. I ceased further motion, unable to bear their suffering and released them from their harnesses.
The grass was soft and green, reserved for those who wanted to lie down or sit. A sweet aroma of flowers overflowed near by like s shinning light, but was hidden by the untrimmed bushes and wildly growing trees. Up above me was the beautiful, high noon blue sky spotted with fluffy, white clouds and airplanes flying by. I emerged into the parking lot and stopped happily as a squirrel under a tree. Hesitating to proceed anywhere further I took a few minutes to treasure the moment of silence and peace. As my girlfriend and I got out of the car to get ready for the picnic, she happened to be distracted by the water; a rhythmic ongoing resemblance of rhythm in her heart. The water was clam and beautiful in every aspect. To me she was like a wave, never stooping to catch attention or go unnoticed. Before doing anything else, we began setting up the picnic. By the time we ware done, her temptation was unbearable and was finally unable to overcome it, consequently she eagerly ran towards the water pulling me right behind her. Each step was like an imprint in my heart, a fossil that would always remain the same and special inside me forever.