It wasn't my fault. Let me just start off by saying that. I didn't do anything. Ever since I met him I loved Lawrence. I even fell in love with his name the first time I heard it. Lawrence Exeter Junior. The power of it caught my eye. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that the fact that he had money didn't make me love him just a little bit more but I'm not a gold digger I swear. I loved his personality too. The way he held me at night. The way he touched me so softly while we made love, his eyes never leaving mine. He was the most caring person I'd ever met and with a girl from my background that meant something. I know this doesn't make sense. Let me start from the beginning. I was a prostitute and he was a Wall Street banker …show more content…
He didn't hurt you, did he?" "No. I'm fine. Thank you. How can I repay you?" He just responded with a chuckle and a "no thanks necessary. I was just doing what any descent person would." I was taken aback by the fact that he expected nothing in return. Most people think of me as trash but he though of me as a person worthy enough to be saved. I was so overwhelmed I started weeping in the street oh god I was embarrassed. He touched my cheek softly, asking what was wrong and I couldn't help but cry harder. No one had showed me such tenderness and care in as long as I could remember. I managed to choked out, "what's your name?" And he quickly responded, "Lawrence Exeter Junior" as if he had been waiting for me to ask. "Let me take you somewhere safe," he said and when I told him I had nowhere to go he took me to his house. Imagine that. A man taking a woman he met on the street just an hour earlier to his home without even asking her name or anything of her. When he drove me to his house I was shocked by how large it was. He didn't emanate money. He looked like an average business man. After we got inside we talked for most of the night. I discovered the house was his dad's and he was looking after it while
For twelve years I’ve tried to hide my pain and fear from you. I’ve been trying to ignore the horror stories, unknowingly blinding myself from the stories of hope. I’m not as bitter as this story may lead you to think. In fact, I am an adamant believer in the statement (overheard three years ago in the Coffee House): “God has never taken anything away from me that he hasn’t replaced with something better.”
Most movies portray friars as wise mentors, or strict religion-followers, that lead lawful, moral, and virtuous lives. But this tragic play of Romeo and Juliet begs to differ, as the friar does nothing but help achieve the forbidden plans of two star-crossed lovers. As Friar Lawrence gets involved more deeply into the schemes of Romeo and Juliet, he too begins to warp sly plans out of his head, such as the potion plan.
Clerk: Citizens of Verona, in this case of Friar Lawrence against the people, may all the witnesses please tell nothing but the truth to decide Mr Lawrence’s fate. Please stand as the respectable Judge Jackson enters [Everyone stands, Judge sit and everyone sits.]
Friar Lawrence’s unwise and poorly crafted plans led to the lover’s deaths. “…come, young waverer, come,
Friar L: As I said a second ago I thought that it would end the family
Usually when someone is asked to give advice, their “help” does not lead to multiple deaths. For most people, that would be considered bad advice or not doing the right thing. In Romeo and Juliet, there are several characters who would be considered atrocious advice-givers and would never be asked for advice again. Nurse and Friar Lawrence, the mentors and almost parental figures for Romeo and Juliet, are not favorable characters to fall under that category, considering their influences on the play’s outcome. Even though Nurse and Friar Lawrence offer some valuable advice and are trying to help Romeo and Juliet, their ways are questionable and occasionally even illegal, leading to them not having down the “right things” in their situations.
We refer to priests by the title, “father,” out of respect. Priests are seen as teachers and as a human representative of “our Father in heaven.” William Shakespeare in his play, Romeo and Juliet, uses a priest, Friar Lawrence, to act as both a priestly father and a parental father to the character of Romeo. Friar Lawrence is important in the play because he serves both these functions in a way that Montague cannot. Friar plays a vital role in Romeo and Juliet because he gives advice, influences other characters, and acts as a fatherly figure.
Walking the streets of Baltimore, the smell of cigarettes was everywhere. I sat at the bus stop and this homeless guy was asking for change while smoking a cigarette. I looked at him and didn’t feel any remorse because he was smoking. I imagined giving him money I had then he will spend it on cigarettes and that will be a waste of my money. I got up and moves about ten feet away from the second hand smoke but then saw a guy selling cigarettes. He has a pack of cigarettes and he is selling two cigarettes for a dollar. After about 10 munities waiting for the bus, I saw the homeless guy going to the guy who was selling cigarettes and bought two cigarettes. I looked at the homeless guy’s face and he was so happy. I
Within two days of my father's mothers death, there was a receiving of friends gathering at the Church on Tennessee's campus. At first it started off with just family members and close friends talking and comforting each other. My grandmothers passing was very tough on me and other members in my family but it hit my father the hardest. After several moments of catching up with family members the first of many people started piling into the Church. Many of my family's friends and loved ones of my grandmother began to make there way over to me and my father. Each person that greeted me would say the same thing. "I'm so sorry this happened to you Stokes. Your grandmother was an amazing woman and she will be deeply missed. She is in a better place now." I thanked all of these kind words while fighting back tears. One of the toughest parts of the evening was when the people inside the Church would offer their condolences to my father. "If there is anything you need, just let me know" was one of the more redundant and frequent sayings that were spoken to my father. Even though all of the condolences were worded differently, I noticed the same sound of hesitance and uncertainty the voices. All of the people who wanted to offer help to my father in this time of need, were unsure how to do so. I understand what the people must have even
He was seeing his daughter for about a month. Every day he picked her up for school, brought her back home, encouraged her to do her homework, and took good care of her. He visited the family every day, but he never stayed overnight. The dad describes him as odd and uneducated, but intelligent and attentive. After 8 months, the dad found out that the boy was homeless. He had an abusive father who killed himself and a drug addict mother who abandoned him. Since he was 15, he has lived on the streets, slept in parks, and worked construction jobs. Ne never had a chance to be a child. He was always hungry with no place to sleep. Yet, whenever he visited the family, he was happy, polite and caring.
I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I kept my hopes, dreams, and childhood memories. His words could not devour me there, and his violence could not poison my soul because I was in my own world, away from this reality. When it was all over, and the only thing left were bruises, tears, and bleeding flesh, I felt a relief run through my body. It was so predictable. For there was no more need to recede, only to recover. There was no more reason to be afraid; it was over. He would feel sorry for me, promise that it would never happen again, hold me, and say how much he loved me. This was the end of the pain, not the beginning, and I believed that everything would be all right.
My stomach weakens with a thought that something is wrong, what would be the answer I could have never been ready for. I call my best friend late one night, for some reason she is the only person’s voice I wanted to hear, the only person who I wanted to tell me that everything will be okay. She answer’s the phone and tells me she loves me, as I hear the tears leak through, I ask her what is wrong. The flood gates open with only the horrid words “I can’t do this anymore”. My heart races as I tell her that I am on my way, what I was about to see will never leave my thoughts.
she is always looking for things to love her. In the case of Paul she
Again he responded politely and on my way I went. When I got to the high school everyone was taking pictures, laughing, and talking about how they were g... ... middle of paper ... ... ry service were beautiful. Everyone that spoke had something nice to say and somehow I found enough strength in my self to get up and read prayer that his parents had asked me to read.
It’s been a long time since I last wrote a letter for Douglas. He was really a special crush. My crush when I first set foot in Mindanao, from high school through early college years. For treasuring him that long, it was inevitable for a special place in my heart to be created for him. I remembered putting initials of letter “D” to some of my things just to show how much I claim him to be part of my life already. I remember how ecstatic I am every time I see him come home, we were neighbors before. And as I always say, our house were very close—only a row of plants separating both, its impossible we won’t get closer too. He was the most handsome man in my world and my exclusive crush for four years. But of course, when I went to college there were other handsome men (and they were really gorgeous) so Douglas no longer held an elite spot. It was shared but he was still the original crush and counting. That’s about another eight years. Now I am in late 20’s and the special spot hidden somewhere in my heart started crying out months ago. And for all the busyness I have, it’s only now I am able to listen well to its weeping. Its crying because it knows it has to go and give up the spot to that special place in my heart where God is tidying and preparing for what we fondly call “God’s will”. See, God made something happen that now forces me to eradicate the spot. Douglas got married last 2005 to a girl from Manila. God allowed it to happen even if He knows that Douglas would surely cry if he knew how much I have treasured him in my heart for more than a decade! I can’t help but think of “shit” when I think of how much I wasted this special spot, special place in my heart crap. I wince every time I accidentally think of the fact that he is married without even acknowledging just an hour of my decade long devotion. I can’t help but think of how much less that girl deserves Douglas because I was the one waiting and that girl was not even looking out their window to check if Douglas has come home from campus every weekend.