Louise Beal: A Narrative Fiction

Written in 1894, “The Story of an Hour” is a story of a woman who, through the erroneously reported death of her husband, experienced true freedom. Both tragic and ironic, the story deals with the boundaries imposed on women by society in the nineteenth century. The author Kate Chopin, like the character in her story, had first-hand experience with the male-dominated society of that time and had experienced the death of her husband at a young age (Internet). The similarity between Kate Chopin and her heroine can only leave us to wonder how much of this story is fiction and how much is personal experience.

That first night at the barracks changed Eva’s life forever, and it changed her way of thinking. She remembers how tired she was and yet not being able to sleep that night, turning to count a handful of large moving figures on the ground. When she had gotten to 5 she jumped up screaming “MICE! MICE!” to which another girl in a top bunk looked over responding “silly girl. Those are not mice those are rats. And you better get used to them because they are everywhere,” and she was right, they were everywhere. Realizing that they wouldn’t be able to fall asleep the two girls settled on taking a trip to the latrine in an attempt to clear their heads. Neither of them could have expected what they saw. As Eva walked into the bathroom she saw the bodies

The soldiers were right behind her. Wheezing, she could barely hold the infant who was safely cradled in her arms and scurry at the same time. “This way, the tracks are fresh!!” Nanette had barely enough time to think when a soldier knocked her down right on her face. It took her every effort not to yelp after hearing a crack from her nose. She couldn’t move, her legs had snapped. A faint cry could be heard from a distance. The child had fallen. Suddenly Nanette found herself un-able to move at all, too much blood was oozing onto the dry ground. This was all happening so fast. She closed her eyes tightly fully aware of what was next. A skinny soldier slid off his horse with ease, showing no sign of emotion and was followed by what looked to

Among the Anishinaabeg on the road where I live, it is told how a woman loved a man other than her husband and went off into the bush and bore his child. Her name was Aanakwad, which means cloud, and like a cloud she was changeable. She was moody and sullen one moment, her lower lip jutting and her eyes flashing, filled with storms. The next, she would shake her hair over her face and blow it straight out in front of her to make her children scream with laughter. For she also had two children by her husband, one a yearning boy of five years and the other a capable daughter of nine.

It has been at least an hour and a half since the attack. She does not remember anything that happened. She slowly get up and reaches for the doorknob. A sudden shot of pain went up her arm. Blood then started dripping from her hand. She had been cut. A knife stabbed her in her hand. “Ow.”, She then blacks out.

Who is Katelyn Ballard? Katelyn is a student, a sister, and most definitely, a pet lover. I am a senior at Franklin County and have lived here since May 30, 1998, which is my birthday. Even though I have lived here seventeen years, I have moved houses six times. I currently live on Tims Ford Lake with my Mom and step dad. I have one older brother, Cody, and two step siblings, Cade and Carly. I have two dogs, Dixie and my favorite, Marley. I enjoy high school, but just like every other senior; I am ready to be done. I plan on entering Motlow’s nursing program then furthering my education at MTSU to become a nurse practitioner. Taking care of people has always been an instinct of mine, so a job in the medical field is ideal for me. I enjoy writing

A long time ago in a land far away, a happy family welcomed young Marsha into the world. She was lively young girl who had an affinity for turkeys in any form. One day, Marsha was playing outside when she noticed a moving van coming down the street. She hoped and prayed that there was a new little girl moving in. A week later the family was moved in, and Marsha was very pleased to see that, in fact, there was a little girl in the family. Her name was Barbara soon to be Barbara Kohls. Marsha and Barb played outside almost every day. However, before they started playing together Barb made Marsha learn all the bones, muscles, and systems in the body. After that she would say, “We need to stretch first, mmkay.”

March 6, 1986 is the day my mother gave birth to her youngest of two. Celia Jael was the name chosen for me by my father. He decided to name me after my two grandmothers, even though my mother wanted to name me after herself. Some people have difficulty pronouncing my name; they call me CJ instead. I was raised in a very family oriented environment; we played, cried and laughed together. My family’s history was made on Sundays. Everyone would come to the house; adults in the living room and kids running around and having fun in the patio. When dinner time came up, all of us would at the table ready to enjoy my mother’s cooking.

I make a turn around the building to see Lisa on the floor looking unconscious. I’m freaking out running as fast as I can. Lisa, Lisa can you hear me? I slid on the ground towards her and check her pulse. 1, 2,3 it beats against my fingers. TODDDDD, CRAIGGGGG Lisa’s bleeding a lot! Oh wait look, the bullet hit her arm. Craig go get the car quickly “on it,” he replies. I slowly lift her up and drag her to the car. Step on the Gas Craig!

Hazel eyes went wide in surprise to hear the particulars of the killing that the newspapers had failed to divulge. Jack had taken his time it seemed. He had plucked out her eyes, her tongue, and what body parts he hadn't wanted were left as a grisly reminder for any whore brave enough to traverse the streets at night in White Chapel. Genuine giddiness almost overwhelmed her at the knowledge that the Ripper did in fact, seem to enjoy toying with his victims a little; after all, she had wondered only moments ago herself if he had left the first one alive long enough to see true suffering reflected in her eyes as she died. Olivia could not imagine what it was like to watch him work, to see the intense concentration on his face as he sawed through limbs, or cut through skin to rip and tear out organs but all of her wonderings refocused on one simple question, why? It seemed rather odd that the Ripper had decided to take bits and pieces back from his victims instead of leaving them intact or at best, in pieces around the crime scene. Was he collecting trophies from each victim? Or perhaps he had stalked these strumpets first from the shadows, watching them for a few days before he acted on some basic instinct,

lost a lot of blood.” “Oh my gosh, she’s that bad?” ask Pam. “Yes, I’m afraid to tell you that she was sexually assaulted multiple times and badly beaten, looking at her wounds, she’s been out in the woods for days because she’s very dehydrated, whoever did this probably thought she was dead, but when she was brought in to us she still had a pulse.” “So, is she going to make it?” “At this time like I said, she’s very critical, we’re doing everything we can to save her, but we have to just pray.” “I can’t believe this, who would do this.” “Well Maam, if you have any concerns or if you need to ask me any questions ask the nurse to page me.” “Thank you Doctor.” “You’re quite welcome.” The Doctor got up and walked away. After the Doctor walked

Second, both of these women were young and privileged yet harboring repressed emotions. One would think having all the comforts of life and youth would be enough to make one happy, but that is not the case for these two. John and Jane hired a nanny to take care of their child while she recovered in a rented summer house together. She had a maid, Jennie, working for her as well. Jane was not allowed to do chores and discouraged from doing anything to aggravate her nerves. Running away with her imagination is her only escape. Louise, on the other hand, sees her husband’s death as a restart to life. She admits to loving Brently sometimes, but begrudges the responsibility of marriage. She desires her independence, wishing for a long-life, mere moments before her abrupt end. Conceivably, she gets her freedom in death, though not the kind she had in mind. Jane and Louise were young and had good lives, yet they were deeply unhappy and had to keep their true

When Alison Balsom was quite young when she began to play trumpet. She has pushed herself to become one of the best female trumpeters. Alison has grown from being a little girl playing trumpet to a successful adult winning awards for her great talents. Balsom has even played the ancient trumpet called a buisine.

To ward off boredom while she waits, Clemmy Sue slaps the earphones over her ears, turns the CD player to full volume, and closes her eyes and begins to sing along with Dolly Parton. In no time at all, she fell asleep and when she awoke twenty minutes later, she begins to wonder why Estelle Louise had not returned. Therefore, she decides to drive over to the mailbox and check on her. Much to her surprise, the mailbox and Estelle Louise are not there. With darting eyes, she searches the area and soon discovers that Estelle Louise’s home is on fire. Panicking, she drives in a maniacal frenzy, up Estelle Louise’s slippery driveway. Within sight of the burning house, she slams the brakes, and the truck slid into the middle of Estelle Louise’s flowerbed and stops. Frantically, she dials nine-one-one, to inform them that a large, white, delivery box truck had driven straight through

We have been in this car for a little over an hour. I am sat in the middle of the car with Cameron and the boys are behind us. Every once in a while I feel a kick to the back of my seat. I adjust myself and check my phone, to see that Gray had texted me a few minutes ago.