Daniel Knife Narrative

“On one side of the portal, and rooted almost at the threshold, was a wild rose-bush, covered, in this month of June, with its delicate gems, which might be imagined to offer their fragrance and fragile beauty to the prisoner as he went in, and to the condemned criminal as he came forth to his doom, in token that the deep heart of Nature could pity and be kind to him." Chapter 1, pg. 46

As soon as my eyes woke up to the bitter cold of the night and stars covered by black blanket of clouds, I knew that this was it. I had tried to prepare myself that day, but I was at school when it happened. The moment the intercom came over the classroom, “Hailey Wooldridge needs to come the office, her mom is here to check her out,” my heart stopped. I was able to make it to the office without losing my composure, but as soon as my eyes met my mom standing there with tears in hers I lost it. Right there standing in the school office, the food gates of heaven opened up in my eyes and I could not stop the rivers from flowing. My best friend since kindergarten had died. All the planning of moving in together when we went to college was down the drain. The late nights of watching horribly filmed scary movies was done. My heart was broken, and the pieces are still not taped together properly. Two days later was her funeral. Her mother had asked me to say a couple of words about her during the service, but the thought of standing next to her lifeless body talking about her and not to her made everything seem surreal. By the power of prayer and numerous amounts of tears, I stood up from my seat and walked lifelessly to the podium that viewed hundreds of people waiting to see what I had to say. I do not know how I got through that speech without hysterically crying, but somehow, I talked like I was having a conversation with Serra once again. In front of me, I

As I looked up, the sky was dark the sidewalk illuminated by the streetlights. The sound of crickets and cars echoing through my ears. I walked home that night, tears in my eyes. I was leaving, I couldn’t handle it anymore. The meds, doctors, psychiatrists nothing was working, our lives were in constant danger. By the time I got home the car was gone. By the time, I finished packing it was dawn. The sun creeping in through the shutters. For the next couple of days, I crashed at Jason’s before I headed South. I heard my cell ringing, it was mom… I let it go to voicemail.

Today April 10, 2016. This spring I have watched with awe the breaking through of the flowers that have been out of sight all winter. It is almost as if they have been in reserve for several months waiting for a call to come out of the ground. They have been frozen, drenched with water from the winter rains, and snow piled on top of them for days. Yet, when the time of their arrival comes from that bulb or seed, suddenly that green stem begins to emerge. As it emerges it begins to transpose into its own personal flower, the lilies do not look like the irises or the mums, the peonies take on their own special look. One flower in peculiar I was watching for was a peony. We have two rows, one has four large peonies in it the other has seven. All

I had woken up from sleeping and all of the sudden I saw a girl ripping out my flowers! I went outside and just watched her pull them out because I didn’t know what to say. After that girl ripped them out, she finally realized that she did something wrong and regretted it. She said “M-miss Lottie!” and I was in utter shock that the girl was going to apologize to me. It shocked me because those kids throw stones at my garden all the time, and I have to replant my marigolds every time those children throw a stones at them. After that little girl finished off my marigolds, I discussed with the girl that the reason why I had planted marigolds is because they only come in two different colors - yellow and orange...the colors of the sun! They

I thought I was gone died that day cause I never experience’s something like that before. We open the washroom door there were two huge trees in our living room and the roof cave in. My mother start screaming and crying, and the house down there street was all gone, but it was some houses that didn’t get hit. I come out and I could do was fall on my knees and start crying until I just couldn’t cry no more. My mother hug me so tight and I said I love you so much and I told her I love her too. There were power lines down in the street so my mother sent me for help and as I’m walking in the street and I see this lady on the ground and then I run to her to see she was ok but it was too late she was already gone that’s when I knew she were dead. I didn’t know what to do so I found this blanket that I found in the street and I just cover her body. That was my first time seeing a dead body without it being in a casket. I couldn’t find nobody so I headed back home and told my mother what I did and she was in shock. But there was houses that didn’t get that’s when the neighbors came out and everybody was asking are you ok. I was so mad I didn’t want to say

As I pulled up to my friends house to drive her to school, it was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, weather was nice and while we were sad this day due to the loss of a dear friend, we were both looking forward to things getting back on track with school. A few days prior, our friend, who always wanted to ride a motorcycle, took a ride with a boy she met. This would be her first and last ride. The motorcycle rear ended a stopped car, she was ejected and dragged under an oncoming vehicle to her death. As I picked up my friend for school, March 9, 1989 our dear friend would be laid to rest. We planned to attend her funeral that afternoon and a special event in her honor at our school. While making a left turn into our school parking lot, the plan for the day changed, as a blue sedan going full speed, slammed into the passenger side of my car. The reality of the situation; I turned left in front of an oncoming vehicle.

Nine O’clock rolled around as I was standing on the edge of the dock where I had first met Jess when we were about 5 years old. I felt so stupid standing there all alone in the dark, I wasn’t even sure if she was going to come or if I was believing and hoping that something like this could even happen and I was just giving my hopes up. A big gust of wind came upon me as I turned around to find my dead best friend, Jess amongst me on the dock. I didn’t think this was real, I thought I was dreaming all until she touched me and started

On August 19th, thousands of eager guests swarmed the Denver Botanical Gardens to witness—with eyes and noses—the long-awaited bloom of the “corpse flower,” a plant native to Southeast Asia whose strong stench resembles that of rotting flesh.

Flowers are very unique. Each one is different from the next. They each have different colors, scents, and meanings. Many people show their gratitude through flowers in a variety of ways.

floret blooms from a bud to an actual flower, the blue-eyed one also blooms from being a slave to a

Visualize a pink energy emitting from the crystals as you place the seeds on the fabric as it feeds the seeds with energy of love. Scatter the seeds and stones with the cinnamon and basil. Pull the corners of the red fabric together, keeping the herbs, stones, and seeds inside. Wrap the pink cord three times around the bag, before tying it with three knots. Afterward, say:

His body was motionless and stiff, he looked as if he was sleeping peacefully but the lifeless unemotional expression made me realize that he was never going to take a breath again. Looking at his mouth, it looked like his spirit just slipped out of his body from his mouth and left in such a hurry that her mouth was just left ajar. The spirit seemed no longer attached to his body, but peacefully floating above him. It was a corpse, not a vessel for her spirit to travel anymore, but an empty shell where once existed a person full of life and

The small white flower the speaker wants to give to the subject to symbolize innocence as a protection from the grief, a protection from the subject fear and

In the myths the stories of the flowers are made in order to explain the nature around people. In the flowers’