My Life - Original Writing

“At that moment, when the world around him melted away, when he stood alone like a star in the heavens, he was overwhelmed by a feeling of icy despair, but he was more firmly himself than ever.” (Chapter 4, Page 41, Paragraph 2)

The narrator, Death, attempts to shed some light on his form through this quote. He is usually imagined as a skeletal figure wearing a black cloak and carrying a scythe, though he shows that he is much more human that we think.

He was still alive when I passed in front of him. His tongue was still red, his eyes were not yet glazed. Behind me I heard the same man ask where is God now? And I heard a voice within me answer him: Where is He? Here He is-He is hanging here on this gallows? (Wiesel 62)

“There was no pain in their eyes and no knowledge of the agony of their body. There was only joy in them, and pride, a pride holier than it is fit for human pride to be.”

Seven years earlier, I migrated to Hawaii when I was twenty-three. I had flown away from my mother and my life in the Philippines. Like young adults and being rebellious, I wanted to live on my own away from my mother 's roof. I left the city life I grew up with in the Philippines in hope of a better life in another country.

No one was supposed to perish that night. He did not wish to perform his job, but the decisions of those that expire shall always repeat. He was stuck. He moved through town, piercing through the foggy streets of town, heading as slowly as possible for the inevitable destination, just outside of town where he should wait. They would come to him, sooner or later. They always did.The calm closed around him, moving from those that chose their fate, hearing their echos seemingly drown away in the mist. He was not needed here, he would see them soon

Another part of this is at the end of the story when he does not believe in him anymore and his is the quote that i have got for when his dad has passed away that it says that ‘ “there were no more prayers at his grave no candles that were lit to his memory his last word was my name” (wiesel 106) as this continues on he does not believe in him anymore.

The loss of his humanity, faith, and identity seemed to be his greatest loss. Because Death is not just physical, but figurative in Night,

“I knew what I had to pray. I had to pray an Act of Contrition for his departing soul… I

Death is inevitable. At a point in everyone’s lives they will face death, whether it’s falling face first into it or witnessing it. The power of death changes a person, especially the power surrounding the death of a loved one. In this excerpt from ‘The Crossing’, by author Cormac McCarthy, he presents the reader with an anonymous man who is dealing with the death of a wolf, which the reader can only assume was dear to the character, which explains his beleaguered disposition. The man carries the wolf's bloodied body through the forest terrain in search of a proper place for burial. In searching for a burial space he openly shows his emotions for the wolf. In this excerpt, the author uses imagery, paradox, and diction to convey the profound

He didn't want to believe it, but it was almost as though a part of himself had died with all those nameless people who perished. Those men, women and even children whose names he ever heard or spoke. It was as if some of the semblance and sense in himself had just vanished, and it was certainly a strenuous mental effort to regain something like

If I went out for a breath of fresh air, after a day of unwearied toil, his footsteps dogged me. If I knelt by my mother’s grave, his dark shadow fell on me even there (p. 27).

He believed that no matter what the circumstance is, as long as God was with him, he feared nothing. He believed he had gone through so much and he could not choose to give up after all this effort. “I will not die. I refuse it. I will beat the odds, as great as they are.

Moments passed like lifetimes as Jim waited for salvation, or death, whichever one found him first. Jim had been left alone with his own mourning thoughts and agony, he clung to Henry’s cold clammy hands, willing him to return. He could feel his own body begin to wane further, his own thoughts were fading until the world around him began to blur into silhouettes. He could only just make out a group of soldiers walking towards him, his salvation. With his last ounce of strength he lifted his arm to wave for help. He was saved.

The last two lines act as a slap in the face. Every element works toward death, and the speaker almost slips into eternal rest. One can see him, putting the