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I was hanging limply off the side of my owner's bed, staring into a mirror with stickers covering the border. My owner, Maggie was sleeping next to me barely holding with her arm around my hand leaving the rest of my body to dangle over the edge of the bed. In the mirror I could see myself, a teal teddy bear with a pink bow my head. My fur is not as soft as it used to be, now it is matted down and disheveled. My owner Maggie has curly blonde hair and big blue eyes, and as Maggie pulled me closer I know it's time to start another day. Maggie got out of bed while I was still in her arm. She rubbed her eyes but suddenly stopped I heard her gasp then she started running, out her door and threw the whole way. At first I was confused but then I remembered it was Christmas day! Maggie ran down the stairs and into the …show more content…
She looked down at me with love in her eyes. Then suddenly without any warning at all Maggie came over and jealously ripped me from her loving arms. The warmth i once felt is know replaced with a sore unstitched arm and confusion. Maggie is as confused and upset as I am she started yelling nonsense at Lucy and running up the stairs I look down and see Lucy staring straight at me with tears in her eyes.Maggie runs me into her room and heartlessly Tossed me onto the bed and she runs out of the bedroom and slams the door on the way out. I slowly tumble off the side of the bed my face falls flat on the floor so I can't see anything but the Redwood floor. I hear footsteps coming to the door, I know it is Maggie. In the act of walking in, I recognized that loving tone of that familiar voice, but instead of being picked I feel a thump against my side, and then I was being hoisted up into the air by Maggie. As she looks at me she realizes that someone might have a greater need for
Maggie and Jimmie are two siblings being raised within the slums of New York City in the Stephen Crane novel; Maggie: A Girl of the Streets. The parents of these two are constantly fighting as broken furniture and fistfights are an everyday occurance in the decrepid family apartment. The mother and father fight while their children hide frightened as "There was a clash against the door and something broke into clattering fragments .... (Jimmie) heard howls and curses, groans and shrieks, confusingly in chorus as if a battle were raging" (11). Crane exxagerates the furniture destruction as every night when the two parents battle, seemingly all the furniture in the apartment is destroyed. Obviously, this poor family couldn't afford to fix and/or buy new furniture everyday. This then is the environment that Maggie and Jimmie struggle with throughout the novel, but both respond to in opposite ways. Maggie dreams of a better life than of her roots while Jimmie excepts his roots and becomes nihilistic. However, the hope of Maggie sadly goes unfulfilled.
In Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, Stephen Crane uses a quote in chapter two to portray that the environment the characters live in affect their futures.
After evaluating the short story “Everyday Use” by Alice Walker, I came to the conclusion that the narrator made the right choice of giving her daughter, Maggie, the family quilts. Dee (Wangero), her older sister was qualified for the quilts as well, but in my opinion Maggie is more deserving. Throughout the story, the differences between the narrator’s two daughters are shown in different ways. The older daughter, Dee (Wangero), is educated and outgoing, whereas Maggie is shy and a homebody. I agree with the narrator’s decision because of Maggie’s good intentions for the quilts and her innocent behavior. In my opinion Dee (Wangero) is partially superficial and always gets what she wants.
Since its publication in 1896, Stephen Crane’s Maggie: A Girl of the Streets has generated speculation and debate over issues like censorship (Dowling 37) and class consciousness (Lawson), but what is possibly the most heated debate concerning Maggie is less about social or literary criticism and more about a plot point—the cause of death of Maggie Johnson; some critics claim that she is murdered, while others claim that she commits suicide (Dowling 36), and, while both arguments have strong cases, they seem to have neglected the most probable cause of the death of a Stephen Crane character—death by natural causes.
Maggie was the shy girl from her and her sister. She would get nervous around her sister and she will
Maggie: A Girl of the Streets illustrates the harshness and grim lives that the lowest class of Americans experienced during the Industrial Revolution. Those without jobs in the factories often turned to alcohol and did not live a long, healthy life. Many men ended up like Maggie's father, a shell of a human being that would do anything for another drink. Others relied on God and the notion of a reward in the afterlife to retain their sanity in their harsh and dreary lives. In his novel, Maggie: A Girl of the Streets, Stephen Crane depicts the state of slum dwelling Americans of the eighteen nineties , believing, much like Darwin, that the disadvantaged laborers will never be able to escape their socio-economic class.
I smiled as we walked quickly out the door. My legs felt numb. I turned to look at my friend and came to a sudden halt, he wasn’t near me at all. Hundreds of people were walking around me, not even acknowledging I was there. I turned my head violently in every direction. Finally I saw the red hair and realized he was only a few short feet away. I sprinted up beside him, he was in the middle of a conversation with an older lady. She was average size, with a pointed face, she wore glasses and had tall high heels. When he noticed me he finished up his conversation and we continued on our
Lucy has since passed away a few years back she was diagnosed with the final stages of Alzheimer 's and stage four breast cancer. When I seen her face staring back at me from the obituaries I did the only thing that seemed right. I dropped to my knees and I thanked God for the Angel he sent me when I didn’t deserve her and I prayed for him to help her find Harry. I knew she was no longer in pain and that she finally had the ending to her perfect fairy tale love. She didn’t have to love me but she did.
Maggie: A Girl of the Street by Stephen Crane tells a story about a young girl named Maggie who grows up in an unstable house hold. She is driven to the life of a prostitution. Her mother and brother Jimmy disowns her, Pete abandons her and she has no one to depend on. By looking at these view point we can see that the environment and social class she was placed in did not necessary play in how Maggie ended up as a prostitute.
I’d be walking home when the outside rushes up to greet me with all the breathlessness of a Sunday afternoon. There is an unsaid magnificence in how the wind taps against my shoulders like a countermelody, fireflies haloing the honey of lantern light, the sharp glitter of rainfall. Kids bouncing soda cans along the sidewalks. Or sometimes I’d be idling along the small park pond, watching tiny iridescent fish wink across a dark map of water. Look! The burst of emerald here. That silvery-orange over there. And look! There, and there, and there.
After a while it seemed as if the wallpaper began to reach out at me calling my name. It seemed like a woman was trapped inside the walls. I thought to myself, "I must free her." And night I would wake up, and I would see her watching me. At first I was afraid, but now it seems as if we have become one. I watch her crawling around out in the yard from time to time desperately looking for freedom. I wanted so bad to free her, but how could I. I wanted to ask her, but how? Maybe she doesn't want this freedom I believe she so deserves.
As I arrived at her apartment she didn’t answer the door, I just went in. I walked down the hall way into her bedroom where she had pills and a beer and a list wrote out to make sure this would be her last recipe, a recipe of death. All I could do was yell, “What the hell are you thinking, he is not worth your life!” I started grabbing the pills, putting them back in a container and taking the beer. I hid the pills in my purse and went to get water. I begged with her to drink the water and remind...
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....
I go lay on the couch feeling like shit, my intentions. My temperature fluctuates, my hands start to shake, I’m sweating, everyone's walking by me in slow motion. I feel something graze my arm and then a type grip. I turn my head so sharp I black out for a couple seconds. It’s a girl she is looking at me… Then she begins to move her mouth, “ I can help you ”, she says, “follow me if you want it all to go away”. I follow her into the bathroom upstairs where there is two other girls that look like zombies, They’re sticking something in their arms.
I arise to the sound of bluebirds singing a sweet melodic tune outside of my bedroom window. I stretch and yawn as my maid, Clara, comes rushing into the room. As Clara pulls open the curtains sunlight illuminates my room and reflects off of the tiny dust particles floating around, making them look like starlight. I could just sit here in this tranquil place and watch life go by me forever. Unfortunately I cannot. I sit up and watch Clara as she runs around the room in an unorderly fashion picking up clothes and jewellery I flung across the floor last night. I came storming in here utterly frustrated at Mother and Father after the discussion we had after dinner and and how I am old enough now to be accepted into society and find a husband.