Descriptive Essay : ' Humbert '

Now, here I am. Living with my dad as the dark feelings of misery I had grown accustomed to slowly fade, day by day. As they fade, my perspicuity grows with it because now I know how she is, and how easily anyone can twist a story. I know that I want to go far away; I know that I want to be anything but what she is. I know that, despite what it may seem like on the outside, everything has changed: I can’t bring myself to regret

Every time I wipe the tears away from his eyes, I see the pain happening all over again, it’s as though the accident just happened even though it’s nearly been a year, and I know I’m not supposed too, but I can’t help feeling sorry for Fin. His life was just beginning, now he’s simply a bystander, but for his sake I have to pretend his whole life is still in front of him it’s just changed direction a little. It’s so hard because it’s like he knows I am lying, but he’s pretending to believe it for my sake … how is he supposed to believe it, when I know its rubbish and I haven’t tried harder to believe anything in my life. I am his mother, I am supposed to love and support him unconditionally, and instead I am wishing he was dead. How can I even think that, what mother thinks that about their son … what does that make me? … I wish I was a better mother, for

That’s how i feel. It’s like…appetite. I get scared sometimes— lots of times—but it’s not bad. You know? I feel close to myself.”

“ Son I just want you to know that if the trail doesn’t go the way we want it to go and if we don’t get justice for what Officer Paul did, just know that you have people who love and care about you.” Dad said calmly.

My dad was getting dressed nice in a collared shirt and slacks. My aunt Keziah was on her way over to watch my brothers and I was going to a friend’s house. Today the court would decide whether or not we live with my mom or dad. I finally understood. My dad loved my mom. He left because he had too, not because he wanted too. I heard him on the phone saying that it is best for him but not for his children. What was good for us was being where there was no abuse. No aggression. I do not blame you, dad. I believe you have changed. And he did.

“Your grandfather didn’t just die Faith, he was murdered. My father put rat poison in his wine that night that our families got together for a dance. I tried so hard to stop him but he locked me up in my room so I couldn’t.” Embry had a shaky voice and a loud cry now. My head swarmed with terrible thoughts that I couldn’t get out of my head. My whole family thought he died of a heart attack. What if my parents really knew the truth and weren’t telling me? Why is Embry going for me and not anybody else? I collapsed to the ground. Lily immediately ran out from the popcorn cart and held me tight. It felt like my world was coming to an end. Embry kept apologizing like it was all her fault.

From the front seat, my father turned around and looked at Ashley and me. “Get out, we’re here,” he said in a monotonous tone. I tried to read my mom’s and his face. What did they expect from this? Did they have a good

as Michael, a researcher on often asked questions, put it, "Creepy things are kind of an ambiguity but they're also kind of not, so our brains don't know what to do. Some parts respond with fear, while other parts don't, and they don't know why. So instead of achieving a typical fear response – horror – we simply feel uneasy. Terror. Creeped out.

There are times I miss you so much, I wish I could remember where I hid your body. I remember the night, cold and dark. An owl hoots in the distance. If only I could remember where you were. I always liked the night and so did you. Every week we took walks through the forest behind Old Man Smith’s home and talked about what had happened that week. All of that changed once you started dating her. First, you stopped walking with me then you stopped talking to me. In the end, you stopped noticing me in general. I was jealous. I mean who wouldn’t be; you were perfect. Dark hair swept back, tan skin, deep blue eyes. Everything perfect. But she took you away from so I got revenge. I wanted to kill her but I thought of something else that would cause her more pain. After a month of plotting, I realized I didn’t care about you at all anymore, but I still wanted her to pay. Sometimes I regret what I did. She still seems to be happy even though I took you away from her like she did to me. That night that I invited you to walk with me I thought you would reject me but to my surprise, you agreed. Revenge is going to be sweet tonight, I told myself. I went home and put together a backpack. Bug spray, an extra jacket, a water bottle, and a serrated knife went into the backpack. I met you behind the rickety barn on Old Man Smith’s property like we used to. I smiled at you and you did your once cute smirk back at me. You held out your hand and I reluctantly took it. Hand in hand we strolled through the forest. You told your cheesy jokes and I

I ran downstairs and found my father on the floor. My mom just stood there and did nothing. I... I killed them. I wasn't able to save them." My voice cracks and I start crying. Aaron moves closer slowly, he puts an arm around me and brings me in for a hug. I would never let someone do that, but right now I need a shoulder to cry on. He's warm and welcoming. "It's ok. Just let it out." "Honestly, how can I be ok. I'm alone now..." His response angers me. How can he say it's ok! He's not going through my pain. "You won't be alone. I promise. I'll help you." I'm startled by his words. I look up at him wide

I wanted to help him. I felt such a surge of sudden anger toward his mother for neglecting his cries. Her lack of compassion as a parent devastated me and it reminded me too much of my own mother. I just wanted to help him. I wanted him to know that someone else was listening— that someone else cared.”

A deep voice broke my angry thoughts for a second “So this is where you have been my little princess…” his eyes stared through me as he spoke “Yes grandfather… why are you here?” I spoke through my teeth trying to keep calm. His eyes finally focused on me when I asked that question “It hurts me you ask such a questions. I came to check on my lovely granddaughter…” his voice faked sincerity.

It was a cold, Halloween night. We had snuck out to smoke cigarettes in an abandoned parking lot. Our cover story was going to Ashley’s house, but I knew Isaiah’s mom didn’t believe it. She always knew when we were lying, if we were hiding something, or if we were planning something. She probably knew all the tricks since she was a troublemaker in her days, too. But it was on the days that Isaiah told the truth, when he was vulnerable and completely honest, when she still believed we were lying, that really annoyed Isaiah the most. He felt his mother just chose to distrust anyone and anything. That when she didn’t believe anything unless she saw it, heard it, smelled it herself. But to me, she has been lied to, too many times. By the same people, over and over again, until she just

I wiped away the tears brought on my my fathers words. Kill yourself. I thought that i would always have him, if no one else. I looked up and stared into his eyes. Blue like mine and id never hated anything as much as those eyes. They were cold and merciless. I pushed back more tears and felt the sting of regret. Why did i think hed understand me? I thought telling him i was gay would help our relationship but never had i been so wrong. I choked on the thousand things i wanted to say and he shook his head at me. "Maybe i will..." i stammered before running out into the cold night air. Why me? Why couldn't i look at a girl and want her? Why is it that only another man can make me feel love so truly? It was passed midnight by the time i got to

Ellie and I lay in our beds, neither one of us knew what to say. In the other room, our host parents were arguing. We didn’t know what about, but we knew it was serious. Then we heard a “THWACK” followed by silence. Ellie and I sat up in our beds and looked at each other, I could tell she was as scared as I was. “Was that? Did he just?” she asked me. Then the arguing started back up again. We calmed back down until we heard it again. “THWACK” We knew then, the noise we heard, was him beating her. We got up, our hearts racing; neither of us knew what to do. We got our nerves together to go get help. When we opened the door to our room we saw the children sitting on the couch crying out for their mother. I could see the fear in their face and I knew something needed to change.