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Symbolism in dreams freud
Symbolism in dreams freud
A ghost story essay
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The only sound was that of the cold and unforgiving wind gusting violently throughout the seemingly deserted shack. Dark and ominous clouds had begun to cover the already grey sky, giving the cold day an even darker and eerier appearance. The shack was located in the center of a valley surrounded by tall, bare mountains. The remnants of the once majestic forest stood destroyed; the wood decayed and the once tall and mighty trunks of the old tired trees falling to the ground. Suddenly a new sound began to permeate the air, barely noticeable at first until it became so loud and grating that it was the only sound. It filled the entire deserted valley with its desperate cry of pain and longing for something long gone. This terrible sound …show more content…
There was no mirror and she remembered that she had not felt well the night before, and there were only two possible solutions; she was dreaming or worse, that she was dead and a ghost. Julie grasped hopelessly at the fact that she was dreaming and that the terrifying figure before her was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Julie stood stone still for 10 minutes and took deep breaths to try and get out of the dream before she realized that it was no dream. She would have to face the fact of being a ghost. Julie collapsed to the ground and put her hands in her head as she tried to remember what had happened in her life. To further add to the pain that Julie had just received from being dead, was the pain that Julie could not remember anything that had happened in her life, just what had happened since she had woken up. Coming to this realization, Julie frantically searched the small shack for anything that would provide even the smallest bit of information that would tell her who she really was and why she was in the shack. After frantically searching for what seemed hours, but in reality was only ten minutes, Julie found an envelope that was addressed to a courtroom with the return address being Julie’s name. Julie frantically opened the letter to learn what she was doing in this shack and to hopefully find out why she was reduced to nothing but a ghost. As Julie
On a drive on Highway 50, through Nevada to see a real ghost town, Agnes finds a little girl named Rebecca who has been separated by her family who was looking Leister 's gold. The capper of the whole thing is that Agnes saw the whole thing in a dream, but she gets to the Goldberg Hotel and Saloon, she realizes the whole thing was real, especially the inside of her room. She soon finds out that the entire hotel is haunted by all kinds of spirits from past guests; which only serves to make Agnes 's vacation that much more interesting. She wants to find out what happened to the family. She knows with every fiber of her being that it was not just a dream, and that a little girl really did go missing in the night before Agnes showed up. Will they be able to find the missing kid or will a killer (called “The Cutter”) ruin their
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
Of Mice & Men Alternate Ending George aimed the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of the gun close to the back of Lennies head. The hand shook violently, but his face set and his hand steadied, Georges heart was pounding, Lennie was still looking across the river trying to picture his rabbits as he was told to do. George suddenly jerked his hand away as Lennie spoke. "Don stop now George, tell, tell about the rabbits and the fatta the lan" But George didn't answer, instead he raised the Luger and pulled the trigger the barrel turned creating a soft click which echoed in the small clearing. "George I dun a bad thing" "I know Lennie
The Shack is based on a man's tragic story, it is a fictional book even though it's written to portray as if it happened in real life. The main character is Mackenzie Allen Phillips, but in the story goes as Mack. He is married and a loving father of five. The story explains what happened to Mack before the present time. He took three of his five kids to a camping trip, and instead of being a happy family trip it ended in tragedy. While they were on the family trip, two of the children were playing in a canoe in the river. Kate accidentally flips over the canoe and Josh gets stuck under it and begins to drown. Of course Mack being a parent his first instinct is to run over and save his son. He does, but unfortunately Missy his youngest daughter
I stumbled onto the porch and hear the decrepit wooden planks creak beneath my feet. The cabin had aged and had succumb to the power of the prime mover in its neglected state. Kudzu vines ran along the structure, strangling the the cedar pillars that held the roof above the porch. One side of the debacle had been defeated by the ensnarement and slouched toward the earth. However, the somber structure survives in spite. It contests sanguine in the grip of the strangling savage. But the master shall prevail and the slave will fall. It will one day be devoured and its remains, buried by its master, never to be unearthed, misinterpreted as a ridge rather than a
In the beginning of the movie, we see a young girl in the back seat of a car with a blue candy wrapper in her hand. Soon after the start of the movie, the main character, Julie, gets into a car accident with her husband and her daughter. Her husband, Patrice, a famous composer and her daughter, Anna, both die in the crash. After the accident, Julie tries to commit suicide by swallowing pills, while still in the hospital. She stays in bed after the accident, which enables her from attending her daughter and husband’s funeral.
She finds herself standing in an old unfamiliar empty room. She glances at the ceiling, noticing every ceiling title and each random square light in-between them. Then her eyes slowly focus on the pale white walls. As she scans each wall, she begins to notice the room is not empty. She soon realizes that she is standing in the middle of a hallway and staring at random unfamiliar people. Then everything becomes dark and she wakes up and goes on her day like normal. As she is going through her day, she finds herself in an unfamiliar room. She begins to study the ceiling, then the walls, and finally it dawns on her that she has been through this before. The girl has experienced déjà vu.
The narrator describes his frightening and sad surroundings, which reflect his state of mind caused by the death of his dear friend. The narrator opens his sad tale with “Once upon a midnight dreary” and later offers, “it was in the bleak December.” He describes his chamber as containing “many quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore” and his fireplace as “each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.” With such images as the old musty books and the dying fire, a mood is set that represents the lonely and frightened state of mind of the narrator. Later, he sees curtains moving without a window open, and hears someone tapping on his chamber door. We begin to see that the narrator is losing touch with reality because he is deeply depressed by of the ...
When terrible things happen to people their faith is shaken and they question the existence of God. The Shack, written by William P. Young, is a novel about a man named Mack who shares his story and his experience with faith. The novel begins with Mack receiving a note to meet Papa [God] at the shack; a place where evidence of his daughter's murder was found. In the Shack, Papa is portrayed as an African American woman, who challenges our traditional perception of God. A flashback of unfortunate events, then occurring leading to his daughter, Missy, being abducted, and presumably murdered. Mack decides to follow the note and meets Papa, Sarayu [Holy Spirit], and Jesus, where he learns lessons, lectures, and details about Missy’s death. Mack
By the time Julie returned her grandmother was ever so lightly snoring. The look of gratification and appreciation of Julie’s previously stern face melted my heart and again my eyes welled with tears. The fence Julie had built around her heart slowly disintegrated as she observed the bond I had developed with her “mom”. With a quivering voice, Julie revealed the stress and emotional turmoil of watching this devastating disease imprison the only mother she had ever known.
Without seeing her, I knew what she was doing. I knew that she was sitting in front of the mirror again, seeing my back, which had had time to reach the depths of the mirror and be caught by her look, which had also had just enough time to reach the depths and return--before the hand had time to start the second turn--until her lips were anointed now with crimson, from the first turn of her hand in front of the mirror. I saw, opposite me, the smooth wall, which was like another blind mirror in which I couldn't see her sitting behind me, but could imagine her where she probably was, as if a mirror had been hung in place of the wall. "I see you," I told her. And on the wall I saw what was as if she had raised her eyes and had seen me with my back turned toward her from the chair, in the depths of the mirror, my face turned toward the wall.
Gusts of wind blew my hair, and I felt like a character in a movie, preparing to sing about freedom and happiness. The steady sound of crickets provided a heartbeat or metronome for the landscape. Out of the blue, a bird squawked out an alarm, blaring like an air horn. Though it was already 7:00 pm, I could still see the nature around me instead
The word “soundless” suggests an image of stillness and loneliness. Further details of the setting add to the
The street is quiet, and seems like it is dead. The sounds I can hear are the leaves rustling in the breeze, and the pitter-patter sounds of raindrops falling on the ground. Together, they compose a brilliant song of nature. No din from the high-school students, no irritating noise from the car. No one, not even a soul dares to make a sound to disturb this moment. Everything is silent, as if it isn’t even alive, just like a ghost street that only emerges in the mid-night and will vanish when the first sunlight strikes down from the sky. Wet dirt mixes with the smells of perfumes that left behind by people suffuse the air. Making me think of the mixture of sodas and expired apple juices.
I slowly trudged up the road towards the farm. The country road was dusty, and quiet except for the occasional passing vehicle. Only the clear, burbling sound of a wren’s birdsong sporadically broke the boredom. A faded sign flapped lethargically against the gate. On it, a big black and white cow stood over the words “Bent Rail Farm”. The sign needed fresh paint, and one of its hinges was broken. Suddenly, the distant roar of an engine shattered the stillness of that Friday afternoon. Big tires speeding over gravel pelted small stones in all directions. The truck stopped in front of the red-brick farmhouse with the green door and shutters. It was the large milking truck that stopped by every Friday afternoon. I leisurely passed by fields of corn, wheat, barley, and strawberries. The fields stretched from the gradient hills to the snowy mountains. The blasting wind blew like a bellowing blizzard. A river cut through the hilly panorama. The river ubiquitously flowed from tranquil to tempestuous water. Raging river rapids rushed recklessly into rocks ricocheting and rebounding relentlessly through this rigorous river. Leaves danced with the wind as I looked around the valley. The sun was trapped by smoky, and soggy clouds.