My left foot was on the ground and my right foot was on the side of a stranger’s car, while I waited for Draven to open his car. Meanwhile, I drew skull and crossbones on my blue jeans with my thin black marker on my right pant leg. Drawing calmed me. Abby said, “Sinead, I’m sorry what happened to your mom.” I needed to draw more now that I was not calm anymore, so I drew random swirls connected to the skull and crossbones. My dad couldn’t care less what I did and my mom is dead. Murdered. Not sure by who, though. “Thank you,” I tried not to cry. Abby, Flint, and I waited for Draven to open his van. Flint scratched his soul patch. “Why do you need a van, anyway?” I asked Draven. “You’re just one kid,” “So we can chill when we don’t …show more content…
want to hang out at each other’s houses,” Flint said and scratched the stubbly part of his Mohawk. Ah. Yeah, this was much better. It was still indoors, sort of. Draven yanked the side door open with both hands. I could tell he didn’t use the side door too often; otherwise, he would’ve not had trouble forcing it open. Once he opened it, we all hopped in. Draven rolled the door shut. I coughed and held my nose. The van had windows, so I could see what smelled bad. There were McDonald’s wrappers all over, Chinese food boxes, and it smelled like something died in here. We all sat down in a circle after we moved everything. I know my room was messy, but it was full of clothes—not food. Abby pulled out perfume from her purse. Draven then swung his backpack around him, unzipped the smallest zipper, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Flint took the cigarette out of the pack, put it between his lips, and pulled out the lighter from his deep pocket. He covered his mouth with the cigarette with one shaky hand to light it and inhaled deeply. Then blew out the smoke away from us. He coughed a little. My dad smoked, so the smell didn’t bother me. Draven also put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with Flint’s. Abby scrunched her nose. Abby spritzed more perfume, inhaled, and smiled.
I felt like I was going to die as if I was in a chemical weapon cloud. Half of the occupants in the van smoking and the other trying with little success to cover it up. I normally didn’t like the smell of cigarettes, but I prefer that to Abby’s perfume, so I hoped the guys kept smoking. They kept inhaling, even though they were slowly killing us. Draven pulled out notebook paper from his backpack. I wasn’t sure what it was for. “Can you stop smoking those cigars?” Abby pleaded. “It's not a cigar. It's a cigarette,” answered Draven. “And I'd prefer it if we did. It relaxes me,” chimed in Flint. Hm. Flint and I both had things that relaxed us. At least mine didn’t kill me. Mine was drawing and his was smoking. Abby grabbed a piece of paper from the stack, tore it out, and sprayed some perfume on it. She then proceeded to hold it to her nose. I didn’t know why she did that, but I didn’t care to ask. Flint coughed and a plume of smoke encircled Abby's head like a halo. “If you're not gonna stop puffin,’ I'll have to…” She dropped her safety paper and lunged for Flint, “I'll have to wrestle it from ya!” Flint and Draven played a game of monkey in the middle using a cigarette in the van, with Abby in the
middle. “Guys, I don't think this is a good idea!” I said. As I finished my sentence, Abby slapped the cigarette away from the group. Her blonde hair bounced over her shoulders. Thinking she was triumphant, she pumped her fist in the air. The cigarette landed on Abby's paper and it immediately burst into flame. “Shit!” Draven made for the doors and tried to force them open. “Why did you close them?” Abby asked. As we are all picked to get out, Flint stopped struggling and looked at the flames. As I turned to see what he looked at, I saw in the air above the smoke was like a question mark. “What the…” “I think it wants you to ask it a question,” I say. “What?” Flint said. “It's a fortune teller. Ask it a question. I would imagine.” “Alright,” Draven stood and asked the flames. “Who is killing all these women we hear about on the news?” “That’s the question you ask?” Flint shot a glare. Suddenly, fiery lettering shot up W and H. We stood and backed away. I quickly grabbed the water bottle from his backpack, opened it up, and drenched the paper. Why didn’t he do that before? “What do you suppose W and H means?” I asked. “I don’t know,” Draven said. He wrinkled his eyebrows, which told me he lied. “I know that look. You’re lying. Tell me what it means!” “Okay, there is a group of killers who kill women, and they call themselves Women Haters. Hence, the W and H.” I should buy it. There were no wrinkles. But I still wasn’t convinced. Draven shrugged. “If it’s not true, then my sources told me wrong.” “Well. That was fun,” Abby grinned. “Try again tomorrow?” I knew she was being sarcastic. We still have to try to get out of here. The smoke started to burn my eyes. Draven pulled the door hard and shockingly enough it opened with ease. Draven’s body flung to the right, not expecting that to happen. “You okay?” I asked. “Yeah,” Draven looked at Abby. “No more perfume in the van.” “Fine. Only if you don’t smoke in it.” Draven nodded. He and Abby shook hands.
It has been too long since I last wrote to you, so I thought I would inform you on momentous events that happened in my life in the last little while. The previous time I heard from you was when Gabriel turned three. I can’t believe he is about to become a teenager now. My goodness, time flies by so fast. I was so ecstatic when I saw your prior letter arrive in my mail.
First of all, I’d like to say sorry for all the things that Scout and I have done. We behaved badly by trying to make you come out of the house. Such as when we gave you a letter to let you know that we want you to go out of your house, even if you do not want to, but Atticus caught us, when I’m going to slip the paper in your window he took it from me and read it. He told me to stop bothering you because Atticus thought that we’re making fun of you, but we’re not, we just want you to go out and have fun with us.
“Pretty soon I wanted to smoke, and asked the widow to let me. But she wouldn't. She said it was a mean practice and wasn't c...
I also don't own the idea, it was requested to me by the wonderful Amanda. Thank you so much! I hope I did this idea justice.
The entire poem including the first stanza, as scanned here, is octametre with mostly trochaic feet and some iams. The use of a longer line enables the poem to be more of a narration of the evening's events. Also, it enables Poe to use internal rhymes as shown in bold. The internal rhyme occurs in the first and third lines of each stanza. As one reads the poem you begin to expect the next rhyme pushing you along. The external rhyme of the "or" sound in Lenore and nevermore at then end of each stanza imitates the haunting nature of the narrator's thoughts. The internal rhyme along with the same external rhyme repeated at the end of each stanza and other literary devices such as alliteration and assonance and give the poem a driving chant-like sound. The musicality of the rhyme also helps one to memorize the poem. This helps keep the poem in your head after you've finished reading it, lingering in your thoughts just as the narrator's thoughts are haunting him. The rhyme also helps to produce a humming beat in the readers mind driving him on steadily..
“You’ll never leave” is carved faintly into the brick wall of the small jail cell, probably from its last guest. Every day, I started to believe the phrase more and more. I lay on the uncomfortable cot, pretending to be asleep. I’m lonely, but I’m not alone. I can hear him breathing and slowly flipping the pages of the newspaper; I assume it’s Mr. Heck Tate.
piece of tissue paper and it came back and hit you." Soon he came up with a new
We stood and watched as the dark figures got out of the dusty cars and moved towards Atticus and Tom Robinson’s cell. I had a theory of what they were trying to do: kill the accused. It’s not common for a group of men to be going to the jail in the middle of the night dressed in such a way. I was sure that they wanted to commit an act of lynching when they put the sheriff into this. The men wanted Atticus to draw back, but I knew he isn’t that kind of person.
1.) The Raven is by a man sitting alone in his house. Late one night, the man hears a tapping sound at his door. At first he thought it is merely someone coming to visit him. Instead of opening the door, he began to think of his lost love Lenore. Who has recently passed away.The man begins to fear what is on the other side of the door. But ends up working up the courage to open the door and all he sees is darkness. He continues to hear the tapping, so he checks the window. An then out of no where a raven comes flying in and lands above his door. The man asks in a scared voice to the raven what its name is. The raven answers, Nevermore. The man began to ask the raven about Lenore and if she was in Heaven, the raven repeated, Nevermore. Which angered the man. But the man finally realized that the bird will never leave because it represents his memory of Lenore which will also never leave him. It is like a curse that will stay with him unless he learns to forget. If he doesn't the raven will continue to be that sad sign hovering over him.
During a cold, dark evening in December, a man is attempting to find some solace from the remembrance of his lost love, Lenore, by reading volumes of "forgotten lore." As he is nearly overcome by slumber, a knock comes at his door. Having first believed the knock to be only a result of his dreaming, he finally opens the door apologetically, but is greeted only by darkness. A thrill of half-wonder, half-fear overcomes the speaker, and as he peers into the deep darkness, he can only say the word "Lenore." Upon closing the door, another knock is immediately heard from the chamber's window. The narrator throws open the shutter and window, and in steps a large, beautiful raven, which immediately posts itself on the bust of Pallas Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom, above the entrance of the room. Amused by the animal, the speaker asks it its name, to which the bird replies "Nevermore." Believing "Nevermore" to be the raven's name, the narrator's curiosity is piqued, but the speaker believes the name to have little relevancy to his question, for he had never before heard of any man or beast called by that name. Although the bird is peaceful, the narrator mutters to himself that it, like all other blessings of his life, will soon leave him. Again the bird replies "Nevermore." Intrigued, the speaker pulls a chair up directly before the bird to more readily direct his attention on the wondrous beast, and to figure out the meaning of the bird's single monotonous reply. While in contemplation in the chair, the speaker's mind turns to Lenore, and how her frame will never again bless the chair in which he now reposes. Suddenly overcome with grief, the persona believes that the raven is a godsend, intended to deliver him from his ang...
wind and it gave her goose bumps she shivered and grabbed her coat and put in on then she
As the years went by, my sister's smoking habit no longer came as a shock to me, but the
The death of Edgar Allan Poe is a mystery to the public. Many people have theorized about his death, but no theory is as interesting as The Raven. The Raven is a movie directed by James McTeigue, starring John Cusack as Edgar Allan Poe. It is about the last few days of Poe’s life, where a killer copies Poe’s stories in his murders. Poe is then recruited by Detective Emmett Fields to help solve these murders, all the while trying to save Emily Hamilton, Poe’s fiancé. This movie is a very interesting take on what happened on the Edgar Allan Poe’s mysterious last days. The movie was amazing the characters, design choices created
...atural world, while “The Story of an Hour” depicts the culture of every day thinking and living. “The Raven” helps us understand the Romantic period, as the author showed all components to a fantastic piece of work written during the Romantic period. “The Story of an Hour” helps us understand the daily life of someone in the 1800's. After telling us about Mrs. Mallard's husband's job, we can automatically think in our heads about the Industrial Revolution and the effect it had on American history. In addition, the telegram reference tells us that their means of communication were rather different at the time. Then finally, her emotions toward her husband show that it's possible that not many women were happy in their marriage. The two works tell us about two different cultures during the 1800's, which can show major similarity and differences between 1845 and 1849.
Cigarettes are very unappealing. Do you like the smell of an old used ashtray? I don’t and most other