Essay On A Hero's Journey

The night before the big day close friend Zack comes over to ask for a favor from Jessie and to put something up; he noticed that Jessie’s room was a mess and she was trying to take the pills. Jessie was not stable

Instead her attackers were shrieking and blindly stabbing into the darkness, trying to attack the one attacking them. The woman dropped to her knees in terror, but Jessie never dropped her gaze. One by one the attackers fell to the cacophony of bones snapping, blood splattering against the stone walls, and howls of agony. The 'hero's' cloak swept around his body as he fought them, the edges of it stained in their blood, and in the distant moonlight Jessie could just make out his face - the deep blue eyes devoid of any light, warmth, or

jumping from a precipice he was forced to but in the end, he overcame his fear of getting teased,

It was a clear tranquil London evening, warmer than you would expect in mid fall. At this late hour these streets were completely vacant, with only the street lamps and occasional shop window illuminating the road. The only sound was the pounding of sneakers frantically hitting the pavement. With every step the noise grew louder, bringing the woman closer to the street and,she prayed, safety.

My mind raced like the race car, my heart beats as the hooves of a horse on a racetrack, and my thick eyelashes holding up the tears that were going to fall. As I locked eyes with the Monster, I knew that I wasn’t safe. The angry blue eyes like the ocean waves were locked in with my helpless black ones. This time, the ocean waves were set to destroy a ship. This time, that helpless ship was me.

Heros are so much more complex than they are simple. Heros big or small, real or fictional. Heros can range from someone like Superman to someone like Beowulf or from someone like my mom. This is one reason out of the many of why heroes are so complex. You don't have to slay monsters to be a hero. Your average fictional hero doesn't sound like that does it. Fictional heroes save damsels in distress, hunt for treasure and save the day. But if all the heroes in the world were exactly the same, would they really be heroes? Now a lot of heroes are like but none are the same. They all have different motivations, different goals such as wanting you to have some feeling of comfort after a breakup, killing a monster with their bare hands, telling you that everything will get better after your boyfriend dies, or even defeating a dragon.

I told them once we started to drive to Crystal’s house. When they went in I went to the neighbors Jody’s. Jesse had answered the door in curiosity about what had just happened. Jacob my brother heard I ran to him and hugged him as like I never wanted to let go.

The curved, blue-white blade of the moon pointed down at the smaller trail for a split-second, and Will darted for the white mirage. His fear kept his feet beating at the ground like the wings of a hummingbird, and soon he couldn't make out the warriors' fire through all the trees. The track turned to the left, and the rush of the river stopped receding from Will's eardrums. He set himself against a dark oak tree, trying to silence his breath and scan for anyone who might have followed him, but his body would not comply. Will allowed himself a minute or two of reprieve, but remained anxious, as he knew that the falling snow couldn't possibly fill in his careless footfalls by sunrise. He had to reach the edge of the forest well before then if

People react to experiences based on what they have been previously exposed to. This is why patience, good listening skills, understanding and respect are what I aspire to teach by example; along with the magic of music. My plan is to do this while being a great, multi-culturally competent, elementary school music teacher. What a mouth full, but that’s the goal! Western would be a great school for me. I have turned tragedy into something positive and feel like I would be coming to your school prepared with a good amount of experience.

“We should start back,” urged Maria with a grimace. The wind howled straight through her bones as she clutched at the edges of her tattered cloak. “Miss Mordana will be worried sick, and we will get sick soon if we don’t find shelter.”

with tear drops rolled down his eyes. He falls into an ocean with so many other droplets. He begins to ask everyone if they have seen his friends Juvie, and Rivera. He begins to hear a song out in the distance and he knew that voice anywhere.

family to make it as far as he did, he went way out of his way to

Watching a film, one can easily recognize plot, theme, characterization, etc., but not many realize what basic principle lies behind nearly every story conceived: the hero’s journey. This concept allows for a comprehensive, logical flow throughout a movie. Once the hero’s journey is thoroughly understood, anyone can pick out the elements in nearly every piece. The hero’s journey follows a simple outline. First the hero in question must have a disadvantaged childhood. Next the hero will find a mentor who wisely lays out his/her prophecy. Third the hero will go on a journey, either literal or figurative, to find him/herself. On this journey the hero will be discouraged and nearly quit his/her quest. Finally, the

The next morning, at 2am, Joshua woke up and began to create his vehicle: he would use it to journey down the mountainside later in the day. Due to his incredibly high intelligence, he made a proficient vehicle that averaged speeds of 10 kilometres per hour when travelling down-slope. Nerves racing through his arteries, he jumped into his wooden creation and sloped downwards. Within an hour and a half, he reached his destination: the base of the Great Mountain. Crowds cheered: not just with euphoria, but also with hope. Hope that their tribe would not be

It beat any girl or any place or what little family he had left. It was this very feeling he had fought so hard for. It was the feeling he woke up for. It was the reason he still existed. It was how he knew he was different and he still remembered the first time he had felt it, even after all those centuries.