I wake in the night drenched in a cold sweat. Another repeat of last night’s dream, only this time, I don’t feel the need to run to Alice. Instead, I roll onto my side, curling my legs to meet my chest, and stare out into the bleak night. The thick clouds hide the moon tonight. Nevertheless, an eerie glow from the traffic's headlights illuminates the fog that rises to my window. The nightmare doesn't hinder my slumber, Angelo’s demand of buying short dresses does. After taking a deep sigh, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. My hands slide over the soft fabric of my nightgown and stop at the top of my legs where my fingertips trace the outlines of the scars. I can feel each ridged, each crevice crisscross one another. Never can …show more content…
“Can you afford anything from here?” “How about we come and get you if we need help,” Alice replies in annoyance. The woman scoffs. A phone by the cash register shrills, saving us from this awkward interaction. “Wait here,” she orders, before sashaying back to her post to answer the phone. “It’s like that scene from Pretty Woman,” I whisper to Alice. “You know the part where they won’t let her buy the rich clothes?” Alice snickers. The French woman glares at us in disgust. Even as I allow my gaze to travel around the store, I feel shame in doing so. The entire store gleams with elegance and grace. I guess I can’t blame her for the pretentious behaviour, Alice and I look like we emerged from a charity bin. My gaze falls to my scuffed, black trainers; I should have removed them at the door as to not dirty the white carpet. Everything is laced with gold, including the white wallpaper with thin streaks of gold thread winding through it, the cash register, and even the phone. All the finishings around the store have gold mouldings, the clothes racks, and even the hangers, all drenched in gold. No wonder the clothes are …show more content…
How am I to convince her I can afford at least one dress, even though I'm not dressed the part. I extract the credit card from my pocket. Maybe if she notices the shiny black card in my hand, she will at least allow me to peek at the clothes from afar. Her eyes travel down to my hand until they fall onto the card, whereupon she tilts her head to read the name. She raises her eyebrows. “Oh,” she says in a soft voice, “I didn’t realise you worked for Angelo. Well, this changes everything.” The guardian of the clothes grants us
Her mother had died after being hit by a reckless driver. Alice, a fifteen-year old, African-American girl, was now without her natural and most influential guide on how to cope with the powerful transition from girl to lady.
The musical piece “Alice’s Theme” was composed in 2010 by composer Danny Elfman. This piece was written for Walt Disney Pictures’ “Alice in Wonderland”. Danny Elfman has represented Alice as lonely, questioning herself and anxious until the end of the film where she discovers her true purpose. Her journey is gradually revealed and represented through the different sections, instruments and lyrics. This is through the successful use of all the musical elements. These musical elements include duration, expressive devices, pitch, structure and texture.
Still Alice, was based on the novel “Still Alice” a book release in 2007 by Lisa Genova. The
Presented in a diary form, we the reader have no way of knowing whether or not this turbulent tale of adolescence is truth or fiction. It doesn't matter; the dread and heartache one feels reading it is just as powerful either way.
The night was surprisingly quiet. The crickets sang a hushed tune that rode along the sweet gusts of wind. The sky was no longer navy blue however, but a deep violet transforming into a gradient lavender and orange. The night was shedding its skin to become the beginnings of a new day. But along with the dawn came the need to hide.
The night was tempestuous and my emotions were subtle, like the flame upon a torch. They blew out at the same time that my sense of tranquility dispersed, as if the winds had simply come and gone. The shrill scream of a young girl ricocheted off the walls and for a few brief seconds, it was the only sound that I could hear. It was then that the waves of turmoil commenced to crash upon me. It seemed as though every last one of my senses were succumbed to disperse from my reach completely. As everything blurred, I could just barely make out the slam of a door from somewhere alongside me and soon, the only thing that was left in its place was an ominous silence.
The story focuses on a first-person narrator describing the life of his neighbor Eddie. When night comes the narrator uses a metaphor by comparing night to “Greedy ants swarm everywhere, decomposing into atoms the substance of things, eating them down to their white bones” (282). The metaphor use in the quote shows how the ants represent the night, its power and ability of taking over everything regardless of color or shape because not even the color “white” (282) can space the darkness of night. This illustrates the narrator’s feelings of admiration towards Eddie, connecting it to night’s power. Additionally, the narrator starts to struggle “to say whether one sees anything or whether these are illusion that begin their nightly ravings” illustrating his feelings of confusion when night comes and how now he is unable to say whether what he sees is as accurate as it was before night came, showing night’s ability to create confusion. In addition, the dynamic of the apartments changes with night because it goes from order to “A great disorderly, half-ironic conversations are conducted with constant misunderstandings in all chambers of human live” (283) which show how feeling of confusion spread through everyone’s life just like the darkness of night, portraying the emotion of confusion as
All that glitters is not gold. A lesson Mathilde Loisel had learned during her journey of discovering the greed. Greed is a curse that blocks people’s vision from seeing the realistic value of things...
Dreadful! how dreadful the night had become. The couple walked for hours under the light of the night's full moon with the sight of of their broken-down car left in the shadows. Anna and cory walked on, what seemed to be, an endless road with the lakes bright reflection on their left and a thick and dense forest on their right and nothing but the sounds of the nocturnal beasts to accompany them on their search for shelter. The couple continued to argue as if they were still in the car on their way home, but now for a different reason.
me is a type of fighting, so the answer to my question is ‘YES’ we
As he stared at the ceiling, color returned to his face, numbness replaced with a warm sense of existing, the touch of the cool air against his skin. He looked at his hands. They were calloused and raw, nails gnawed to the quick, fingerprints lost among countless scars and burns. He grimaced. They didn't let him care for his hands, which was silly; he was a musician and he needed them to
Light streaks across his face ,as the sun rises in the morning. His dream abrupted by the pain as he falls off his bed. The smell of the room reeked strange almost foreign smell and he couldn’t hear any traffic outside his window. He felt a weight upon his chest ,which was almost made him afraid of opening his eyes. He opened his eyes and immediately he touched his chest.
The silver moon suspends in the velvet sky, glowing dimly. Moonlight travels through the yellowish leaves and sheds on the land. I see the obscure, indistinct shadows of the trees are swaying on the floor letting me have the illusion of thousands of devils dancing slyly in the night, planning some evil trick. The hazy mist surrounds the street making it more mysterious and attractive, and the bright...
In a feverish state you toss underneath the bed sheets, straining to find a comfortable position on the rigid mattress. As you finally settle down, light from the screen beside you pummels your eyelids and you swiftly twist away to face the curtains. Staring at them intently, you dare them to try and aggravate you further. They remain still in response. The blue filter of night sweeps across the room and wraps you in its tranquility and quiet.
I wake to the sunlight bursting through the windows onto my face. Something is off.. The air feels wrong, like evil lingered in the room. Adrenaline rushes through my body with such urgency that I throw myself up from my bed. My head slammed against the bedpost as I stood, but because of the adrenaline that rushed through me, I felt no pain. What is that smell? So unfamiliar. The only thing I can make out in it is Lilith's familiar scent, but it’s as if something strange mixed in and is masking it’s tantalizing odor. I can’t stop shaking. Maybe I’m still trapped in the final seconds of a nightmare so terrifying, that even as I stand here wide awake, I cannot escape its hold. I get a small glass of water and take a moment to gather myself. It