I remember my mom. My brother’s name is Thom. I’m fourteen years old. My dog’s name was Spot. He had stripes. I remember poverty. I remember the bullet. The government is wrong. The memories flow back to me as I step up to the Country Hall. “Hello, Tori,” the man in the suit, who I think is someone important, says. “Hey, how are ‘ya?” I reply. The man chuckles, but doesn’t answer my question. “Do you know why you’re here, Tori?” “Well, no, not really. You weren’t exactly clear on the whole ‘come to the Hall, we want you there.’” At that moment, time stopped. This happened before, I told myself. I’m the only one who notices this, I thought. I could feel something. The memories and the feeling of love went up and down my body. Then I saw him. Thom. I haven’t seen him in five years, …show more content…
Sherman. It consists of running, building up endurance, then getting thrown into the battlefield and fighting bad guys. That’s what they’re having me do, fight random thugs who chose the thug life. They’re kind of going fast, but I’m all for it. I like getting right to the point. After about a month of training, my brother comes into my training room and I see that look again, the one where I can tell he recognizes me. He walks up to me, makes sure no one is looking, then puts his pointer finger up to his mouth, and motions for me to follow him. “Tori,” he starts, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m risking a lot just coming in here, so I have to make it fast.” That’s how things are these days, I guess. Fast. “Don’t trust anyone here. Especially Mr. Sherman.” Then he left. I always think about what Thom said, and I’m always careful around Mr. Sherman. I notice everything he says, everything he does. He walks over to a woman I know as Brittany, who has long, straight, brown hair. She has a sense of authority to her, though not as much as Mr. Sherman. I eavesdrop on their conversation, because, I
Why would you get something like that? Never mind it is pretty cool. Even though its like 100 feet tall!!! I thought you guys were just going to the store and you came back with a mosterice truck! Is that what took you 5 hours? You are the best step dad ever! This is my step dad troy but his real name is adam but he doesn't like that name. That is why we call him troy. He is always getting stuff for him hos self or one of us. When he buys the stuff he doesn't tell so it is always a surprise.
I pulled my hair up into a pony tail and slung my purse over my shoulder before responding to him.
What would happen next?! She began to go down, she put one foot down on the next step. The ladder began to wobble Chu-yi, holding on tightly stops moving ,and the ladder is still. Chu-yi knew that could have been bad. She makes it half way down the ladder while her heart is beating like a drum. Chu-yi starts to hum the swift birds's song to calm herself. Bang, Chu-yi hears the sound and hurries down the ladder.
“How much farther?” Tom shouted impatiently as he folded his arms and sank back into his seat.
I was nine years old when it happened. I loved Shrek so much, I owned all the movies and the merchandise, I even prayed to Shrek every night, I still do. This night was no different "Shrek is love. Shrek is life." I finish my prayer, thanking Shrek for the life I've been given. My dad overhears me "Faggot." he mumbles under his breath. "Cunt." I reply, I say no more because I know he is just jealous of the devotion and relationship I have with the green lord an savior, Shrek. I can see him grow angrier before he slaps me across the face "Go to your room you disgusting faggot!" he yells. I hold back the tears and I go back to my room, once I'm in the safety in my room I let the rears flow. My face stings from where he hit me. I climb into my cold and lonesome bed, and the suddenly, I feel a warmth move towards me, it runs a large finger down my back.
I never realized how boring and long a car ride could seem when you’re anxious and excited for what’s to come. I never knew what waited down the path I chose, and how easily something can be lost. These events led me to the way I am today and whom I want to be in th future.
It has been two years since you passed. It has been a year since I unearthed your vacant coffin with Oskar. Yet, it has been less than a second since you came to my mind. A day has yet to pass where I do not ponder of you, imagine you. I have seen pictures and heard stories of you, yet it always pains me that I could not have a place within them. I know nothing of you, my own child. In fact, I cannot call you, Thomas Schell, mine. There is nothing of me in you, and that will always be my deepest regret. If I had two lives, I would spend them both with you, as if that would somewhat compensate for the unjust life I forced upon you. A life without a father. Though, a boy need-not be raised by man, when a woman as sturdy as your mother is in place. I
In drama, story telling, myths, a religious ritual, psychological development and even in life there's a hero's journey. The hero's journey is basically multiple steps describing the adventure of “The hero”. A hero to me is someone who has courage, who did something amazing, someone you can look up to. Even though I am not a typical hero there are times when my life follows the hero's journey with archetypes such as the herald, loyal companion , threshold guardian.
I woke up on friday may 27th , getting ready to leave for school and when L got to school i saw my two best friend outside both looking really sad and i walk up to them and aaliyah was crying and i asked what's wrong, She was too sad to tell me so my other friend lexi told me “mom died” at first i thought they were joking because how could she have died and i just said how and she started crying which made me cry i just wanted to scream and later on that day i was still wondering how stephani ,how could a beautiful,29 year old single mom with three kids that was always full of laughter and joy just die a couple days from her birthday and just at all.i have known her all my life well since i was four my heart broke i literally felt my heart
While she lie staring at the cosmos painted on her ceiling, she remembered her question about the crime scene. Just her luck; she had left her things downstairs. There was not an ounce of willpower to persuade her to move. A groan of a new caliber of grief left her throat. She’d found herself rather comfortable in her current position, and the idea of moving was less than appealing. She knew if she moved she would never again acquire the comfort that she felt at that moment. Moments like these brought to her childhood dream of having telekinesis. While she was incapable of moving objects with her mind, she did have a brother.
“Ryan.” Laurie called the man’s name, hoping he would help her with something. She had expected to hear his foot steps but instead heard a muffled, rough voice say ‘Yes dear?’ before he walked in the room. “Ryan!” She stood up and hugged him.
I don’t remember my name, or most of my early life, but I know I was a thief. I was part of a group of thieves, five of us. “Do you remember where you’re from?” A village called Greenbridge. I don’t know how far it is from here. “Greenbridge?” Why, does it sound familiar? She hesitated. She didn’t know him, but if she was going to help, she had to give him reason to trust her. Besides, it might feel good to finally tell someone. “It’s where I’m from. I did something there that I’m… not proud of.” That makes two of us. “What did you do?” You mean, besides abandoning everyone I care about? My wife, my little girl, my friends? “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” It’s fine. In the time I’ve been here, I’ve done a lot of thinking. “Pardon me for asking, but what happened to you?” Now that’s a story.
“Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!” The school bell rings. Peter and I were playing football at recess when we heard the bell. We quickly rushed up the stairs to get to class. I was so happy to see back Peter in school after his sick leave. He looked happy and his attitude shone brighter than the sun. Even after what had happened to him about a month ago…
My hero’s journey begun with my call to adventure to graduate high school and go on to college. When I was in middle school, I never would’ve thought that high school would be so different yet so similar to middle school. It was different because there was a lot more students and you pretty much had to be more mature about things, but you still had to work hard and earn your grade. My supernatural aid which helped me in class, were books and a pencil. Most of the knowledge we needed to understand the class was in the books, a pencil, to take notes and write essays and other written assignments. My crossing of the threshold will be when I graduate and go on to college to continue my education and earn a degree, but I wouldn’t be graduating if it wasn’t for the help I had. Some of the main people who helped me were teachers who helped me understand many subjects, and
It has been one year since the death of my beloved sister Cheryl. Since then, Roger and I have married. It was wonderful! All the people we met last year were there; all the friends I made at my job as a receptionist. Cheryl’s friend Nancy and her mother came and they hired a babysitter for Cheryl’s son Henry Liberty. But, most surprisingly, my father was there for a bit! He started by saying that he was sorry about what had happened my whole life and how he should of tried to get us back. Then, I told him that I know it was for the best and that we should not cling to the past, even though I did that my whole life. Essentially I was being hypocritical. Nonetheless, he said that he was proud of me, and that if my mother was alive she would