A Summary Of Frosty : A Short Story

Suicide can sometimes feel like the only way to pacify the pain. It is as if something is eating away parts of you slowly and intently and the only way to relieve the constant pain, is to die. Tiffany Hunter and Pierre L’errant are two very different characters with both equally unique yet queer personalities. Although Pierre and Tiffany are not the best of friends, their contrasting characteristics somehow complement each other. They both have similarities in their plans of suicide as well as differences that help them make the correct decision on where they want their life to go in future. Although they both made different decisions at the end, they assisted each other to settle on the right choice. Drew Hayden Taylor develops a theme of despondency and isolation from peers and loved ones in the novel “The Night Wanderer.”

Kristina the main character travels to her father that she hasn't seen for most of her life. Before Kristina was a golden child, she got good grade, she made good choices, and she never even thought of drugs. After the trip at her father's she was opened to the idea of drugs, boys and reckless decisions. She wasn't Kristina anymore, she was Bree. This book shows readers how easy it is to get lost into drugs and reckless choices; and the struggle of becoming herself again.

"Do you ever see yourself, fantasizing, about snow?" She asked, unaware of the ignorance, that seemed to protrude, across her face. "We live in Texas, obviously." I snickered, as she shot me a look of annoyance, "I know." She began as she rolled her eyes, "To better explain it, have you forgotten the feeling of snow, not your mind, but your body, the feeling of it laying in your hands."

It was a mysterious, windy, dark night. Annabel, a short young girl with jet black hair, eyelashes that reached the sky and eyes like a puppy dog, had just awoken on the floor of a cold dark forest. As she took in her surroundings and wondered how she had got there, a sudden pain appeared in her head and she had a brief flashback of painful memories of the car crash that she and her parents had just been involved in, a horrific accident; she lay there as tears slowly welled up in her eyes and rolled down her soft, pale cheeks. The thought of her deceased parents sent a shiver up her spine; she couldn’t believe they were gone.

It was a pleasant fall Tuesday when Stephanie went to work. Her day normal consisted of writing reports, and filing paperwork for her office. She turned on the television to see if there was anything alluring in the news. “NEWS FLASH: MAN CONVICTED OF MURDER HAS ESCAPED PRISON.” The warning did not phase her, considering the jail was far from her office. She concluded that she was safe. By four o’clock, it was time for her to travel home from a laborious day of work. She arranged her things into her bag, and began her trek. Walking out the door, she was met with warm rays from the sun. It was an astounding way to end a strenuous

The sun broke through the grey and breathed life into the awakening city. The woman’s eyes though opened, were empty and moved accordingly to the flock of doves that soared through the chilled air. She gazed at the beautifully choreographed dance above where delicate wings formed prominent silhouettes against the comforting rays. The ancient apple tree which only last month was a mess of unruly twigs and withered leaves had now flourish into a bounty of lively red apples that heralded the Springtime. The richness of the sanctuary generated distant and painful memories in her head like the scenes of a tragic movie. She could still picture the remorseful look in the man’s eyes during his last breath. Her father, a man of ambitions and responsibilities, was not the father to throw her into the sky and tell her how much he loved

Evie hopped off the bus with a renewed sense of purpose. “I came here to succeed. Not to worry about home,” she thought to herself. She was feeling driven and ready to begin anew here, in a foreign land with foreign people, people who don’t know her or her legacy. She looked around at the lively street scene before her. The signs were vibrant and their brilliance drew her closer and closer to the center of town. The entire city seemed to be moving towards her, and an endless sea of men and women spewed out of the buildings and down the block. The congested streets keep her pace slow, but her mind was racing with new thoughts and ideas. The gridlocked traffic finally allowed for some leeway, and Evie found her way out of the fray and across

Frosty the Snowman is a pop culture icon from the classic song written by Steve Edward Nelson and Walter “Jack” Rollins and recorded by Gene Autry in 1950. It was later adapted into a Little Golden Book in 1951, a black and white animation short in 1954, and a TV special in 1969. The song has been included in various Christmas albums by popular performers for half a century.

Alexis Moloney was just another person in this world. But one day, something horrible happened. She was just enjoying another day of life, doing what she does every other day, but then it happened. She came home and was devastated. An fire had broken out in her house and most everything was burned. She didn’t have many people to turn to, and those she could have, didn’t have enough money to support her. So she went from place to place and finally she found a place at her cousin’s home. While she was there she listened to what the news had to say about the fire that consumed her home. The news didn’t report anything for a while after it happened. She waited and waited, and when it finally came on the news, there wasn’t much about it.

Paige how did it come to this. Sitting alone in a dark room wondering when the power in the house will come back on. Could it be I forget to pay the electric bill; that’s a silly thought being that I’ am so anal. No lights just alone in utter darkness lost in her thoughts of what could have been. It was so quiet that one could hear a pin drop in the room. Her parents gone away to their summer house in Maine enjoying life and their retirement. Sisters’ off working and taking care of families. All her friends left off to college and becoming successful in their professions. Here I have been left alone in the dust because I was so spoiled being the youngest of five.

Burying her head in her hands, she let her tears mingle into a puddle on her dark dress. The relentless wind howled around the house and the rain pattered roughly against the wood siding. A sudden rapping at the front door aroused Gwilan from her mournful meditations. Gwilan rose from her seat and opened the rugged green door. A young sopping girl stood timidly at the doorstep, her shining eyes gleaming with hope. Gwilan gasped and pulled the girl inside.

Pleading with the person she is loves to call her back, one can easily pick up on the deep sorrow in her voice. This ending pulls at my heart because I can feel the pain and loneliness that is in this girl’s voice, and I know how she feels when she is lonesome. From when I was six to twelve years old, I would always wake up for school to the sound of my alarm screaming at my to wake up. Then, I would make my own breakfast, pack my own lunch, and walk myself to the bus.

On a snowy and windy night, I was at Barnes & Noble in Green Bay with my friends, Alan and Karina. Christmas music played overhead, the smell of hot chocolate and freshly brewed coffee wafted over, the customers were kind and cheerful, and snow was beginning to blanket the parking lot outside. We were sitting near the cafe wrapping books to support their mom’s school fundraiser. I stared outside and remembered my mom’s warning of the large snowfall that was almost upon us. Around 7:15, the snowflakes were becoming larger and we could barely see outside the window.

The lamp posts caste themselves like trees on the narrow path. The bright lights on the other side cover the vast sky. The enormous white arch introduces itself first and then allows the plentiful structures behind it to shine under the restless night. Although the humid air perturbed my skin, the temperature was perfect to contemplate my thoughts. The night was almost silent and all that could be heard was the noise the rapid cars made as they passed through the highway. The buildings seemed minuscule from far away, but I knew that they were enormous when standing in front of them. The city buildings and lights provided a sense of security, a place where the city’s arms awaited. The city’s arms were not home; instead home awaited with an overly stressed life, one parent, and a few wild children. The sudden announcement that my mother was to stay in the hospital for the next 7 months due to her risk in labor and later suffer postpartum depression startled me, how could such a strong healthy women fall into this situation? My mother’s state became a burden onto my arms, as the eldest I would have to adapt to handle house tasks, create a more close relationship with my siblings, and continue to be successful in my educational life.

She strode into the room as elegant as ever, as if trying to be noticed, trying to be loved, trying to say something. Nothing moved in the silent room, as she walked in and observed it carefully, like a hawk stalking its prey. She became aware that she was now alone in the dark room, with nothing to notice her, to love her, to hear her. She walked over to the window and looked out into the night. The dark streets were silent, with not one light to be seen in the night. She closed her eyes and hoped, that when she opened them, she wouldn 't be alone anymore, that she would have a family to be loved by. But she knew in her heart that her hope was false, and she was still standing in the dark, now chilling room. Iris stood there, staring into the darkness of the empty room. The realization of being alone hit her like a silent explosion went off in the room itself. Iris was hopeless. She walked over to the dusty light switch that loomed in the corner of the room, as if to warn its visitors of what was about to be lifted from the shadows. Iris flicked the switch cautiously, and closed her eyes as the room enlightened. Iris slowly opened her eyes to adjust to the bright light, and observed the new perspective of the room. She looked around, and one thing was different. A boy. Sitting in an old chair on the far side of the room that looked as if it would collapse at any moment. Iris suddenly felt different. She felt a small spark of warmth deep inside her, gradually growing, making