Jeannette's 'Claudia': A Narrative Fiction

When questioning the murdered man's wife, the detectives seemed sympathetic in terms of their expressions. They appeared concerned and their hardened expressions softened. The woman was shown sobbing and had bloodshot eyes. Tears were rolling down her face and her beauty was a stark contrast with the ugliness of the previously-depicted crime scene and the faded trench coats of the detectives. She

“The violence of the crash, the noise, the small table overturning, helped bring her out of he shock. She came out slowly, feeling cold and surprised, and she stood for a while blinking at the body, still holding the ridiculous piece of meat tight

Joan of Arc was born in Domremy, France in 1412. Her parents were poor tenant farmers named Jacques d’ Arc and his wife, Isabelle who was also known as Romee. Joan learned piety and domestic skills from her mother. Joan never ventured far from her home, and would take care of the animals. She also became skilled as a seamstress.

History abounds with a plethora of people and events that have shaped the course of the world. Traditionally, these people have been adult males. Occasionally, however, these historical icons are females and during rare moments are children. One of these unfathomably cases is the young french women named Joan of Arc. Joan of Arc, the legendary saint that was burned at the stake, was a young farm girl who joined the Hundred Year War and died as a hero for her believes.

Her eyes fluttered open and rested upon the figure in front of her, her bloodstained hand opened to welcome them. Hesitantly they reached out to grasp her hand, the blood seeping into their white linen glove. She gave them a smile and proceeded to lead them further into the temple.

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

whether to return back to the main hall, or to climb up. She would not be given the

Eyes closed, hands clasped, feet placed together, she looks almost peaceful... But there is nothing peaceful about her death. The angry red lacerations that decorate her neck, highlight her struggle. As I continue to gaze upon the victim, I can’t help shake this familiar feeling.

She hurried away from the window, fearful that the thing would look up and see her watching. She scurried into the closet and closed her eyes, praying that it wouldn’t get inside. The girl heard feet hit the floor near the window and knew it had entered her tower. She peeked out through the slats in the closet door and gasped at what she saw.

A welcoming house with the colors white and green, a friendly red door that never looked mean, a family with love for their kids that was all so apparent, with friendly neighbors and friends whose actions weren’t at all errant. This is the life that Dick and Jane lived, they walked, and they ran, and they lived, lived, lived. The Dick and Jane primers were books that followed the adventures of Dick and Jane which was once used to help children learn to read. These books may have been helpful in teaching children to read and it may have taught white children what their lives will look like to some extent, it bred nothing but false expectations in colored children who knew very little of the hatred others would freely hold for them. Claudia and

"Hey get back here!" rocks crumbled under my feet as I sprinted across the cement floor. I glanced behind me with a small grin as the baker of a little cafe tries to catch up to me.

Anna also took note of her hair. Her beautiful red hair which in the hospital stood out as such a strong contrast against her skin. It stuck to her face because of the cold sweats. In the coffin, her hair was perfect, it was straightened and laid over her shoulders and reached just below her collarbone. She didn’t look dead, she looked alive; like she should have looked when she was alive, Anna leaned in closely to her friend who lay completely still, half expecting her to pop up and start laughing, like this was just all one of her stupid

Once upon a time there was a girl named Joana and she lived in a kingdom that everybody in the village lived for. Joana had a bestfriend named Melissa and Melissa was the only girl in the village that knew that Joana lived in the kingdom. Melissa was born with disabilities meaning that she can't walk so she's on a wheelchair and she doesn't look like the rest of the kids, people sometimes think that she a beast. The kingdom is the biggest building in the village and nobody can go in there except for Joanas family. Joana has two stepsisters that don't like her and don't like Melissa for the way she looks. One was named Daisy and the other one was named Lauren. Everyday when joana gets home from school she has to clean the kingdom that takes her a long time to do.

Purple bruises were scattered across her frail wrist like grotesque, swollen beetles. Her knee jutted out awkwardly to her side. Her bleeding, cracked lips were shrunken to a tiny buttonhole. Her tongue stuck out between her teeth like a piece of rubber. Her eyelids fluttered feebly as she lay there - defeated, defenseless, and desolate. Her chest heaved up and down, as her lungs fought for breath – she was barely alive. A caked, muddy trail of shoeprints followed him out the door. He had gotten away again. Tears prickled at the back of my eyes. My throat swelled up as my steely resolve began to dissolve. Grief shook my shoulders like an inner earthquake, the world around me crashing down. A nauseating mixture of relief and horror clenched tightly onto my loins – like when you finally stop an itch, only to realize that you’ve ripped a hole in your

Kristiina scurried down the hall to make it to her next class, which she feared she was probably going to be late for. She felt some relief when she finally saw the door to her next class. She turned into the doorway sharply still moving fairly fast, so fast she didn't notice the girl that she was about to run into. Before she knew it Tiina had slammed face first into someone. She blushed in embarrassment when she realized she basically had her face shoved into someone's breast and pulled away quickly to apologize. "I am so sorry!" Tiina squeaked, her blush darkened when she realized exactly who she had bumped into, it was Beatrice. Tiina quickly apologized again before Beatrice had a chance to say anything and quickly went to her seat in the back of the room.