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The story introduces our main characters Lane A. Dean Jr. and his girlfriend Sheri Fisher. The couple are set to be sitting up on a picnic table at the park by the edge of the lake, with part of the downed tree in the shallows half hidden by the bank. The aura between the two seems to be quiet and eerie. The mood set by the downed tree made it seem to be depressing and dark as well. They sat on the table for quite a while without a word, both sitting frozen and uncomfortable. One of the main characters Lane is a 19 years old student who studies accounting and business. Lane is a very cautious person because he thinks, and sometimes he over thinks about what he has to say or do. He has high expectations of himself and he always reflects on
himself on how he is and how he thinks he should be. Next to him is his girlfriend Sheri, who is a year older than he is. She’s in school studying to become a nurse and has a hosting job. She knew what it is she wanted, she was serious and that’s what Lane liked about her, she was a good people. As they were sitting up on the picnic table, Lane drifted into his thoughts about what he liked about Sheri. He likes that the fact they share the same faith and values, and Sheri took it very seriously. However, as he was sitting there on the table, he found himself being afraid of it. He was starting to believe that he might not be as serious in his faith and he felt awful. He knew feeling like this would mean sinning and he was desperate to be good people. He also began to be confused about the love he has for his girlfriend. Which explains why their atmosphere together is different. Lane knew what feeling this was, it was the feeling of guilt. He was guilty in not being serious in his faith, where he wants to be good people and to feel that he was good. He was guilty of not loving Sheri. However, he never opened up to Sheri about how he truly feels. He never told her he loves her or did loved her. Lane argues that if he had loved her or said to her that he loved her, then they would not have this conflict. The problem is Lane is not honest with Sheri about his true feelings, which led to them being both unhappy in the relationship. Sheri in this situation is not completely innocent either. Instead of telling him how she feels too, she tries and wait for him to come clean and be honest. In conclusion, Lane imagines what he wants Sheri to say him after telling her the truth. The truth about him not loving her, that he wants her to say it is alright and that she wants what’s best for him. He started praying to God to make him love Sheri, but then he realizes he was praying for the wrong thing. He lacked courage, and that’s what he needed. In the end, he wanted to be honest to her and to himself, to be “good people”.
Literary villains are all around us. For instance, Voldemort from Harry Potter and Darth Vader from Star Wars. What makes a villain? They will go through anyone or damage anything to reach their goal. No matter how small or how tall they are, anyone can be a villain. One of the worst literary villains is Erik Fisher from Tangerine, written by Edward Bloor. He is a liar and a thief. Those traits are what makes the best villains. Throughout the book, Erik shows that he is a villain through his vile and offensive behavior, his need for power, and his insanity.
In the passage be ginning “They had picked…” from the novel Snow Falling On Cedars, the author, David Guterson, uses many techniques to give the passage a depressing, and frightening mood. He uses vivid imagery to describe Carl’s dead body. He also uses figurative language, such as metaphors and similes to show the severity of the situation. Finally, his diction shows the reader how reading about a crime scene can seem real if the word choice is right. All the techniques Guterson use help the reader to feel as if they were actually at the scene when Carl’s dead body was found in the ocean.
The story starts off in the setting of a hanging. A gardener named Peyton Fahrquhar awaits his fait and thinks of his family for the last time. Below him is what is described as a madly racing stream. peyton stands on a plank and attempts to plan his escape. If he could only loosen the ties on his wrists and lift the noose from his neck to plunge into the water and make a break for home where his family would be. While he thinks about these matters his eyes wander down towards the stream and catch a piece of drift wood floating along the suface, seeming t...
Summary: Brady finds the lifeless body of his 3 year old neighbor Ben, in the river in the middle of the storm. After he pulls Ben into the boat he drops his cell phone over the boat into the water. Brady must then drive his boat and attempt CPR on the lifeless body. Brady must make an extremely difficult choice when he finds out that his two best friends, J.T. and Digger, are the direct cause why little Ben is now dead. Brady’s father assisted him in dredging up the Red Kayak. When Brady see’s that holes are drilled into the bottom, he breaks down and tells his father what his friends J.T. and Digger did. Brady decides to turn in his friends only after the stress, torment, and sadness began to seriously affect him. His friends are charged with murder and the story revolves around his coping with the boy's death, assisting Ben’s own mother with her grieving, and reliving the death of his infant sister years
Walker begins the story by describing the yard in which the mother is waiting for her daughter to come home. She shows the yard to the reader as being clean and wavy, which, according to the mother, is "more comfortable than most people know" (875). She feels that it is an extension of the living room. She compares the hard clay to the living room floor being swept smooth. This leaves a cool place to sit under the elm tree and "wait for the breezes that never come inside the house" (875). The reader at this point has already experienced the feeling of the soft grass, hard yet smooth clay, the cool breeze, and the smell of the elm tree.
The plot that develops from the setting is that when the narrator and the man are next to the river, it could be perceived as calming since that is how she felt
One can learn responsibility through experience, whether the experience is great, or if it is tragic. In The Ninth Ward by Jewell Parker Rhodes, twelve year old Lanesha demonstrates her growth by bringing her and others to safety during a deadly storm. Once nurtured and cared for by her non-biological grandmother, Lanesha learns to take care of herself and others. This significance shows her transitioning from a girl to a young woman.
The story starts out with Sam remembering how he first got to be in his tree in the Catskills. A run-away, Sam Gribley, a young boy who lived in New York City with his family of eleven in a small apartment. None of them liked living there. His father used to talk of the family farm in the Catskill Mountains and the time he ran away to them. Sam decided this would be a way out of the dismal life he had in the city. He prepared himself well by listening very carefully to his father’s stories on survival and read books to be prepared for his planned new life.
The story of Antwone Fisher is a very intriguing and moving story. Antwone Fisher was an individual that was resilient and had endured so much in his life. As a young child, he did not live in the best environment. He lacked the guidance that is recommended that a child should have. There are two theories that may help to explain Antwone Fisher. These two theories are Bandura’s modeling theory and Roger’s self-actualization theory.
Antwone Fisher was an individual that endured so many things. He faced a lot of challenges that may have seemed impossible to recover from. This story was an example of the many things that some children may experience. Antwone was not raised in an upper crust home. He did not grow up in a home in which his mother and father was present. Instead of having positive role models, he had to live with individuals that were abusive to him. When observing Antwone’s personality, one may refer to two different theorists such as Bandura and Rogers.
After I found my favorite oak tree, I sat Indian-style and leaned back on it's rough, yet comfortable trunks. I glanced at the cover page and wondered how this book could possibly impact my life. Slowly cracking the book open, I began reading. “Once there was a tree….and she loved a little boy...” the words flowed in my head “...[but] time went by/And the boy grew older/And the tree was often alone.” Great, another love story. I sighed heavily and continued reading. Page after page, I was eventually hooked and found myself lost in reading.
The field tree was such an odd choice of location for my grandmother’s ashes, but my aunts and uncles were adamant about this decision because of the love she had for its beauty. It’s such a shame that it takes a tragic, life-changing experience before most people to appreciate life itself; this was my story and what possibly saved my life.
We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
Being invited to a friend’s house the other day, I began to get excited about the journey through the woods to their cabin. The cabin, nestled back in the woods overlooking a pond, is something that you would dream about. There is a winding trail that takes you back in the woods were their cabin sits. The cabin sits on top of a mountain raised up above everything, as if it was sitting on the clouds.
I awoke to the sun piercing through the screen of my tent while stretching my arms out wide to nudge my friend Alicia to wake up. “Finally!” I said to Alicia, the countdown is over. As I unzip the screen door and we climb out of our tent, I’m embraced with the aroma of campfire burritos that Alicia’s mom Nancy was preparing for us on her gargantuan skillet. While we wait for our breakfast to be finished, me and Alicia, as we do every morning, head to the front convenient store for our morning french vanilla cappuccino. On our walk back to the campsite we always take a short stroll along the lake shore to admire the incandescent sun as it shines over the gleaming dark blue water. This has become a tradition that we do every morning together