Eulogy For America

As he walked into the arena, the crowd stilled. The sand below was white and blinding in the light of the beating sun. The stone wall of the arena felt like the walls of his soon to be coffin. As he turned around slowly to bow to the king, a customary for the victims of his sick barbaric punishment, but when he looked up, his eyes were only on the woman he dearly loved. As their eyes meet a memory flashed between them like a spark of light move quickly before his eyes.

The decline of health afflicting her mistress and their close relationship enables her to resist the temptation of leaving America. Raised as a black slave since young in the Wheatley family, she grew attached to her masters, especially her mistress Susanna Wheatley. Her attachment is highlighted by the fact that her poem is directed towards her mistress and is contextually written in a time where she was separated from her ailing mistress. Henceforth, similarly to Rossetti's "Remember", the concept of departure in "A Farewell to America" is depicted through health, and the subtle reminder of death. As she points out in her fourth stanza, "Susanna mourns" for Phillis Wheatley to return and treat her (13). Despite the temptation of freedom that

Though her family was her main source of strength, Klein had to find someone else to rely on when she lost them. Her childhood acquaintance, a girl called Ilse, filled that void in Klein life, and Klein did the same for her. Together they pushed each other through illness, back-breaking labor, and a 350 mile death march through freezing rain and snow. Klein and Ilse became more like sisters than best friends. Ilse last gift to Klein was a single, bruised raspberry for her birthday. Klein held Ilse as she lay dying on the freezing ground. Before she drew her last breath, Ilse begged Klein to o on for one more week romise me. (p 205) Exactly one week later, the war ended and Gerda Klein found herself a free woman.

Her lips formed strange and unusual sounds, her eyes closed softly and her cheeks paled. From her side belt she withdrew a small knife, a dagger. With a quick movement she cut her left hand with the dagger. As the drops of blood hit the cold marble floor the knife also clattered to the ground. The girl remained speaking her foreign tongue and let her life's blood run down her outstretched arm.

When his body hit the ground, the people around him felt a wave of shock. He was dead. The women covered their mouths with one hand, tears already streaming down their faces. The other hand covered the eyes of the children who witnessed the horrendous scene and were no longer pure and innocent, sheltered and hidden from the cruel reality of the

The next to die was a woman in her early twenties, her voice creaking in despair with every step she took like the old wood beneath her. Armand glanced at her as the pack in front all drooled thirsty for the satisfaction of her demise. “I’ve seen this woman before.” Armand murmured, scouring his mind, trying to match her face to that of the many

Her sudden death in the arms of her lover, was tragic and turned her success in Pyrrhic victory, her career throughout the novel is however a fascinating tale of determination, fortitude and resilience is.

There was a strong pungent of disinfectants and rubbing alcohol as she was rushed into the lobby. Crying out her last breath to express her agonizing pain as she lied down on the cold gurney. The nurses in a light blue uniform quickly arrived as several doctors in long white gowns rushed to the scene. Her mother was by her side, holding her hands as tight as she could, as the nurses pushed the agitating gurney towards the automatic doors. Soon her visions blurred and as the world turned into a tint of pink and red. As her vision slowly darkened, she solely relied on the touch of her mother’s warm hand and her soothing voice. Notwithstanding the tight grip of her mother’s hands, they was soon torn apart. Fear took over her body as she cried even louder. The sudden yet rhythmic beep was the last memory she could recall. It was March 5th.

Leaving her room she was about to enter Rin’s room when she heard a tiny whimper and a shuffling in the bathroom down the hallway. Saskia bolted for the bathroom, the hallway never felt so long to her before. As she was about to enter the bathroom a man, a strong, tall, and very well built man ran out of the bathroom running toward the window at the end of the hall. Saskia griped her knife and lunged at him, but apparently missed because he succeeded in jumping out the window with a practically a perfect landing and ran. Too concerned for her sister’s wellbeing Saskia ignored the broken window and the man and whipped into the bathroom to find her sister lying on the bathroom floor looking just like what her mother did that night, eyes staring at the ceiling as if all the life had been drained out. Kneeling down next to her sister Saskia started to sob profusely. She couldn’t stop. Pulling Rin up into her arms, she thought. Her only sister, her only family left is now gone. She continued sobbing, then she stopped, it was unmistakable. Rin’s body was smothered in the scent of the man that killed their parents, but why would that murderer have come back? Was he trying to finish off something that he started, if so why didn’t he kill me? Looking at her knife she noticed it had blood on it, apparently she did manage in taking a

The obsidian death filled with hushed whispers in the sanctuary of the night; with a mind so dark and twisted you drown in it, a spiralling whirlpool of acid burning you from inside. I tried, I tried so hard to love her, to accept her, to not shudder when she touched me like the rest of my family did. That was my downfall. I suffered. I paid with my life for caring, for loving for accepting.

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Returning to the fifth stanza, the enjambment used in “her noose a ring/ to store / the memories of love” (20-22) forces the reader to associate love with death. The ring of the noose can be seen as a marriage ring and so it can be inferred that love killed her. The image of the tarring and feathering and the inferred notion that love killed her, combined, provide the historical link into the present.

One day my mother brought home a chandelier from a local store to be hanged in the dining room. My entire family disapproved of the style of the light fixture but my mother liked it so that is all that matters, her opinion trumps all. Originally my father was supposed to take down the old one that was still hanging and put up the new one, but he could not find the time to get it done so that meant the responsibility fell to me. Although I am the youngest of four by six years I am the only boy, so when my dad is not around I am the man of the house. This is new to me because that right only came as I became a teenager. My father taught me how to fix a light switch and a toilet, how to change a tire and replace brake pads, and any other thing he thinks that a teenage boy should know, but he has does it in a very unique way. Anytime my father wants to teach me something he’ll show me once, if that, and then he will throw away the

“Her long shadow fell to the water’s edge. Her face had a tragic and fierce aspect of wild sorrow and of dumb pain mingled with the fear of some struggling, half-shaped resolve. She stood looking at us without a stir, and like the wilderness itself, with an air of brooding over an inscrutable purpose…”

The boy continued to yell a spell that Ebon had never heard before. Ebon could see that the girl was beginning to lose the battle. He watched her swing her sword in vain. She kept stumbling back. Finally, she tripped and fell over. Her sword clattered a few feet away. Ebon found himself with an inner struggle. These were murderers. They killed without hesitation. They were ruthless, unstoppable, and unforgiving. But the boy was really about to kill her. Even if they were bad, he still felt a need to help. He