Death Scenario

They used a hard vocabulary to contain the terrible softness. Greased they 'd say. Offed, lit up, zapped while zipping. It wasn 't cruelty, just stage presence. They were actors. When someone died, it wasn 't quite dying, because in a curious way, it seemed scripted, and because they had their lines mostly memorized, irony mixed with tragedy, and because they called it by other names, as if to encyst and destroy the reality of death itself. "

In this interpretation of Simone de Beauvoir 's mother 's horrible decent to death, Beauvoir finds out her Maman is taken to the hospital for a broken bone after a fall, instead the fact that her mother has intestinal cancer is revealed. After many surgeries, her mother’s suffering is only drawn out. The author ponders on the virtue of doing so, in conflict with condescending doctors while empathizing with overburdened nurses. Simone de Beauvoir gives us a reflective and somewhat detached depiction of the final days in the life of her declining mother. Interwoven throughout the novel is the escalating succession of the authors mother dying of cancer, there are also recollections of the relationships of younger years among herself, sister, and parents.

In “On Natural Death,” Thomas appeals to the readers by contemplating the subject of death with an academic approach that includes facts, data, and information. Thomas successfully transforms death from an awkward, emotional subject to a more comfortable intellectual one. This engages the readers by placing contemplation of death and dying within the confines of a more manageable and rational context. His gradual exhumation of death eases the audience into pondering the subject in the absence of emotional stress. The essay transitions from the death of an elm tree to that of a mouse. This is followed by Thomas giving a significant amount of attention to a scientific explanation of death, and then finally the description of the near death experience of a human. This use of an academic appeal moves the audience to a comfort zone with the subject of death and circumvents the common response of avoidance. The reader is simultaneously desensitized to the gravity of subject matter and given permission to consider death and dying without the normal societal negative stigma associated with the subject.

Discuss the components of a mature understanding of death, and what factors may lead to, contribute to, or affect its development.

The night drew closer around the individuals who, some in dreams, some in panic, seemed to react to impending danger and turned, some to nightmares, some to an eerie calm, as those on death row that accepted their demise for what it was, an abrupt shattering of their existence. Be that as it may, however, some did not wish to go so simply. While some wished for a calm ending, but embraced nevertheless a less subtle end, that of fire and mutilation, others feared it for what it was, or what it could be. Some feared being lost, trapped in a dungeon of previously sound architecture, to watch the edges of their vision turn to the blackness of

My hands were covered in blood.. It was only a matter of time till they caught me.. I could hear the roaring of the wind. The heavy breathing coming from my own chest.. My stomach ached in pain. I could feel the tears beginning to escape from my eyes...

“MUM! Wait!” I yell. My throat is sore, partly from the yelling, but mostly from the running. The thick, night fog blocked my vision of the path ahead completely, only allowing the occasional glow of the street lamps barely come in sight. I don't remember why I’m running or where I’m headed exactly, just that something is going to happen. Something bad; but what? I trust my instincts to guide me through the maze of eerily empty streets and parked cars. I thought I’d seen something move in the corner of my eye, that’s when I hear the deafening explosion to my right. I cower beneath my arms, ready to anticipate the blazing heat of the supposed flames. I don’t feel anything. I realize why. Towering above me, a pair of worried eyes cautiously

George Patton Jr once said that, “It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.” Mr.Patton realized that death is natural and inevitable, so he gives thanks to God for the life that he, his friends and family have been dealt. At funerals, usually several individuals are pain stricken and severely upset. These individuals have been conditioned to fear death and to believe that death is something to run away from. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross speaks about actually tuning into the patients in order to figure out what their needs are. Mrs. Kubler-Ross, in her novel, On Death & Dying uses a five step blueprint in order to describe the dying process effectively.

There was also a small truck and a small bus that hit each other. They didn’t catch fire, but there was a body on the ground beside them. As soon as I saw it, there was a cold wave of recognition crashing through my body, making my vision sway as I realized, it was dead. No questions like why, how he died. Nothing. Just a frozen state of mind. My throat ached as I used every breath. There was less, and less oxygen remaining in the car. I dared to open the window. Warm fresh air mixed with a smell of burnt grass hit me in my face.

Death is an inevitable fate for all living beings. It’s an aspect of life that can be hard to deal with, and the ability to overcome the fear of this unavoidable event can be difficult when it comes to knowing the reality of your fate in an

I jolt awake. “Must have been a bad dream” I thought to myself. I looked around and was shocked at my surroundings. A destroyed hospital room. The paint on the walls is peeling and it smells like old sheets and medicine. The beds are covered in rust and pieces of the ceiling have fallen on the floor. The room is dark, but the sun is shining through the barricaded windows. I rip the needles out of my arms and struggle to stand up. I put on my clothes that were still neatly folded under the bed. I walk out of the room. There were blood stains on the wall and random hospital supplies thrown on the floor. My heart starts to race. I try to think of what could have happened. While I was thinking I was snapped out of my thoughts by a banging behind me. I turn around to see a door, bolted shut. I decide not to open it. I begin to walk

The decision of quality versus quantity of life is a fact that some of us at times have to face. In the article “When Living is a Fate Worse Than Death” author Christine Mitchell, argues the predicament that medical professionals face in treating critically ill patients. Do they continue to prolong a patient’s life with excruciating medical procedures or let the patient die in peace. The author was effective in her argument that after all measures has been done that baby Charlotte should have been allowed to die peacefully to end her suffering.

You are a 16 year old named Peyton who is listening to the news reporter on the police radio. You and your family huddle around a candle because the lights went out. Then tragedy struck. You wake up to find all of your family dead. You find your cellphone under a bunch of scraps of wood. You look around and your house is completely destroyed. You walk out of what is left of your house and see everything destroyed. There is fire everywhere and the worst part of all there are human remains all over. It takes your brain a while to comprehend what just happened. The you realize that a bomb has just been dropped. You look at your cellphone and you have 13 missed calls from your friends asking for help. You see the date the calls were missed and

My screams were literally sucked out of my lungs and suddenly we were gone from the alley in a brilliant white flash. A second later I was in a dark void, I felt as though I was being squashed flat between two buildings despite the emptiness of the place and couldn’t breath. Any second now and I knew I would be dead. I clawed at my throat, my eyes bulging from my head and suddenly--

Confused, shocked and fear filled my mind as I lye on my side, gasping for air, trying desperately to stagger onto my knees. A sharp pain suddenly ran up my spine into my forehead and quickly I collapsed back onto the cold damp floor inside this mangled metal coffin in which I was trapped in. Bit by bit I moved my hand closer to my forehead, trying to impede this massive throbbing that was affecting my head. I skimmed my forehead and paused my hand on a huge gash. The pain shot into my head again, but I was able to clutch on to the seat and hold my balance. There was blood pouring down the side