Creative Writing: The House On Mango Street

An outcast is someone who does not fit into the normal crowd. Their opinions and view are different from others. They want the world to be different from it’s current point. An outcast will push themselves to the limit to get what they want. Susan Brownwell Anthony is an outcast because she develops an idea that is different from society’s views on women’s rights, she is a hard worker and stays true to herself.

The single drive and one story house was home for a family of 4. Teaching school and driving buses got them the house on a street filled with strangers who would soon become life long friends. Marriage and college took the children dear to their hearts to new streets where life would mature them. Bumpy roads and misfortune would bring this 4 person home back together, but this time adding two more little ones for memories to be had. Years of growing older and moving through grade school would turn a short time visit into a long one. Friends and family coming and going, that door never once came unhinged. A house as busy as that one could never break because of the love shared in it. Home improvements along

I stumbled home from the haunt, Drunk from the night of excessive drinking. Staggering inside the house, The dreadful brute was at my feet. That dire cat -- Haunting me-- following me-- Awake. Asleep. I see that beast, every ware. As I went up the stairs as if I were in a daze, and the beast was behind me. Anxiously a site picturing the cat. Everywhere that feline. The more I pictured the more I drank every where I saw that beast. Back and forth from the bar. I feel more comfortable in that retched bar than at home with my wife, and that cat. Terrorizing me, following me. I see him even at the bar now following me. Inside my head.

Names are very significant in everyone’s life. It is the first thing one remembers when they think about any person. It helps everyone. People know them and remember them in a unique way. Names are a reflection of a person’s culture, tradition, background /family, religious beliefs or goals in life. Names are influenced by your culture and background. However, we all have many faces that we put on depending on where we are, who we are with and what we want. We can have more than one identity and sometimes they don’t match the meaning of our names. A person’s name effects their nature and life. To truly find who you are, you need to know yourself from inside and know the meanings of everything related to you. “We know

Names have a long lasting effect on our personalities and our “destinies.” Our names effect our personalities because, the behavior we have, our success later in life, and also the way we are drawn to certain things. There are many reasons to back up this claim. Many parents have seemed to think that males with girly names tend to misbehave more often than males with masculine names. Girls with masculine names also have that effect. Names may even have an effect on how successful and how unsuccessful you are in the future. Researchers from Livescience.com have stated “The link between a name and success later in life could have to do with these kids fulfilling others’ expectations of them.” The way we react to our own name is often weird. In many research papers it is found

In english my name means “sea of bitterness” and “rebellion.” At times I can be kind and sweet, but that’s only when I feel like it. Most of the time I’m daring and I usually don’t care about what others think. In spanish, my name normally comes from the Virgin Mary (Our Lady of Guadalupe).

"The greatest person you'll ever meet." That's what my name means. I don't know anyone else with my name. I love my name, it is unique, special, pure, and most of all, it belongs to me.

There was no impact due to my name to my family, they just hoped me the best in life. No one in my family before have had my names before. I have had many mispronunciations of my name “Dillan” due to the fact that i have two L’s in my name so they pronounce it with a “Y” and it had bothered me since, and i have wanted to change my name “Dillan” to “Dylan”. Dylan is a much easier name to pronounce even at the view of it.

It was a cold winter morning as my mother and father rushed into the local hospital; my mother was about to have her first child. My mother was sure she would have the daughter she dreamed of. She was supposed to be named Catherine, but my mother would not get a daughter, instead she got a healthy baby boy, but after hours of labor, she did not care what the baby was, as long as it was in her arms and not inside of her. My parents did have a plan if I was a guy; I was to be James Martin Milleville, a name that now outlines me in almost every capacity.

we became super close. I never really thought or had an idea of us even talking after that day at the fair but you know, everything happens for a reason. By that I mean, well, what do I mean? Okay, yeah. I like Teddy. I like him a lot but he doesn’t know and he can’t. We’re best friends. We get along so well. We have so much in common and when im around him it’s like this feeling that i’m never going to be bored or sad every again. There’s just one slight problem. By slight I mean serious, serious for me anyway. Teddy is in love with someone. Yes, I know, he has a girlfriend. Brooklyn Christine. Yup, thats her. Good ole Brooklyn. Nevermind there is no good in Brooklyn. I want to meet her but then i don’t. What if she’s gorgeous. What if she’s

One week after Mark and his friends planned to travel to California, they packed up and we're ready to leave town. When left town they were making plans on what they were gonna do.When on the way they pass a house that didn't look abandoned, but looked like no one lived there, it gave us the creeps! It really looked dark and dreary with paint chipped off windows broken and one little light on in the attic. So then Mark decides to stop at the house and check it out. It had just turned dark so yeah we had to stay there. Really?There was no food so they ate what they brought, and they turned the tv on. Then they decided to go check the whole house out, see what's in it.

I sit in my seat leaning back looking through pictures. These pictures describe familys that look perfect from the outside

Does your name make you or do you make your name? When I was younger and heard someone say the name Donald my mind instantly went to the song Old McDonald had a Farm. However, as I grew older, it became associated with the billionaire who is the president of the United States of America and suddenly the name Donald did not sound as silly as it used to. I, like I imagine most kids, was displeased with my name when I was younger. Partially this was because I knew of no one named Garett who had accomplished anything great nor did I appreciate the unusual spelling of my first name. Constantly my name was spelled wrong over and over as I attempted to correct people until finally, admitting defeat, I simply gave up on my futile attempts. Just as well, to my horror, my middle name Kelly is typically associated as a girl's name and I knew that I would be teased mercilessly if anyone found out my middle name. Even though I disliked my name at a young age because of how unusual it seemed, as I grew older I gradually began to like my unusual spelling as it made me unique and I could create my own reputation that people thought of when they heard the name Garett. Also, I recognized my middle name as something to be proud of as it had been passed down from my father and I had been blessed with that family heritage (Walker, Amber).

The café was a safe zone for Levi. The constant noise was a comfort. The illusion of the broken silence within. Walking through the doors, he felt the weight of the silence lift off his shoulders, and a smile formed on his lips. The usual employees scattering around behind the counter, laughing amongst themselves. A rush of self-consciousness settles in the pit of his stomach as a single thought crosses his mind. They’re laughing at you. Shifting awkwardly in the doorway as his shoulders tense, and the invisible weight starts to return.

What does your name say when it’s not your name? Or when your family refuses to accept your name? When I was born and promptly named Sebastian, not everyone in my family liked the name. Though my grandmother’s actions were unwarranted. Instead of accepting that the name of the child is the decision of the parents, she took it into her own hands. For the first year of my life she called me Nickolas. I find it strange that it’s a name so vastly different from Sebastian, and I think it says a lot about who she is. She never liked me very much to begin with though I think her impromptu renaming showed how eager she was to strip me of my identity. Your name is your identity and if someone changes that or takes it from you they have taken or changed your identity.