Personal Essay : The Battle Of Samantha Dresdner's Home

When I heard Jessica crying and saw the dog looking into my face I told him “Georgie go see why Jessica is crying”. Next thing I knew he went off running and she was quiet so I went to check on her and there they were in the bed sleeping, he comfort her. Even though a snow storm was coming, she decided to go on her winter camping trip anyway. It was like something was calling her out there. But in the event of her wilderness trip she was starting to feel better. There was a positivity her in her life that was growing and the depression had started to fade by the activities she is doing. Her experience of sleeping in below freezing caves, digging out of a snow barricades with the help of Jackson and Hailey. She was doing things her and her dogs would never have dreamed of. She admits that her very cold and freezing adventure has helped her appreciate the beauty of life and her winter wilderness experience. She was starting to feel like she belong and was appreciating the value of her life and her surroundings. “A Blizzard under blue sky” gave her a new lease on life and a spark of rejuvenation.

Jonas pushed the bars with all his strength. Locked. "Please," He called into the darkness. "Is anyone there? Please, I need help!" Past the gate there lay a community that, at first glance, seemed not unlike Jonas' old home. Except, it wasn't very much like Jonas' community at all. The houses weren't all the same, and the colors- he had never seen so many house colors! The streets twisted and turned, and all the bumps and hills made them seem as if they went on forever. Jonas now saw the snow differently. Now it wasn't just a burden that slowed him down; it was beautiful! A thin, shimmery white sheet covered everything, and-

The effect that the landscape has on the characters is very significant. Through the use of figurative language, Kent is able to covey the landscape and how it emphasizes many of the emotions felt by the characters. In the text characters live in Icelandic society where long distance communication is hard and fast communication is even harder. With the weather being the way it is; bitterly cold and oppressive, it reflects on each character and their emotions felt through the book. Particularly the oppressive snowfall throughout the text leaves the characters feeling claustrophobic and confined. In turn this allows each character to express these feelings in their own individual way. Margaret, the mother is trapped in her own house in a repetitive cycle of her own making. Agnes is caught in her own inner turmoil, and Margaret’s daughters are also trapped in a cycle, fated to live a

Sybil looked down and saw her miniature arms twisted tightly and caught in a shirt she had been putting on. Her mouth was wet with vodka. No, not vodka. How would she know the taste of that? This taste was iron-filled and bitter. It was blood, and it dribbled down her chin. Her voice squeaked and cracked as she sputtered out her words quickly.

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.

The moment Skyler's blood touched her tongue Adriana was lost. The sweet nectar that flowed through her lovers veins washed over every sense the old vampire had. She drank deeply as the warmth washed through every inch of her body. It was the first time in ages Adriana had felt such heat coursing through her veins. Her lover, her wolf tasted like madness and haven all at the same time.

She took a quick look around the last turn before the main street that led to the school. She noticed several boys and girls in the alleyways on both sides of the narrow street. It looked as if every class at her school, several young ladies and even her teacher waited for her in ambush. She ducked back before they could see her, hiked up her dress, and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her in the opposite direction of the angry mob. She didn’t stop until she had found the forest path that she needed and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard no one in pursuit. The forest surroundings felt different for some reason and it frightened her. It had a forbidding feel to it this dawn like she had never felt in the past.

Samantha Nicole Smith was born into a small family on April 21st 1998, in Indianapolis, Indiana, the daughter of Chief Prosecutor Christine Smith and Part Owner/Superintendent Brian Smith, sister of high school graduate and future freshman of Butler University Nathan Smith.

Smooth, thin, and cold, the sharp object lying in her hands trembled due to her petite quivering fingers. The unforgiving sharp blade effortlessly sliced through her skin, pain and then numbness overshadowed her thoughts. With the world weighing down on her shoulders and with the sense of oppression, the girl carved into her arm without a feeling of regret. Daring, she placed the knife parallel to her veins located under her thin pasty skin. Finally, with resolution, digging the knife into her small arm, the young tortured girl could feel the deadly weapon tearing and mutilating her long tender veins. Gasping for breath, the pain surged throughout her body. However, with agony coursing through her body, the victim would not stop her leisurely stroll to the grave.

The cool winter air stung my face as I exited through the ski lodge door. Board in hand, I stepped onto the powdery snow. After each step I took all I heard was crunches and crackles from the snow compacting underneath my weight. I nervously made my way over to the top of the bunny hill where a tall, beat up looking man named Dave stood. He looked as if the cold weather had made him age quicker than the rest. The earnest look on his face caused me to shudder in fear. His eyes pierced through my soul as if warning me not to go through with this. I took a deep breath as I realized how

She stood there, a tall, thin steal gray fluffy haired figure on the top step for a second. And then looked down at the fair-haired children and smiled widely revealing a large gap between her two front teeth. She laughed cheerfully and declared, "Pay no mind to her. She's not so bad once you get to know her." Anna wondered about that. She seemed as if she were pretty good at being furious. "Come on, follow me." The lady said as she opened the door and allowed them to pass, "My name's Miss Margot. Now come along, there's no time to dawdle." She said in her sing-song voice and led them down a long, dark, narrow hallway that was lined with solid wood paneling. As we walked, she tugged at their arms to quicken their pace. Eventually she stopped and pressed on a spot in one of the boards and a door popped open. She and the children hurried into the cold, damp lopsided little basement storage area that was filled with spider webs and smelt dank. Once inside the room Anna noticed that a single light bulb on a long cord swayed from the ceiling and an old broken folding chair and a chamber pot leaned against one of the walls. And that in the back of the room there was a tiny, grimy window that permitted a sliver of evening moonlight to pass through. "That's yours." Miss Margot said and pointed her

Running into the woods Sarah’s eyes fell on familiar sights. Trees she had climbed as a little girl, old trails her father had made, the old stream she loved to sit by and read poetry. Sweet, delicate memories flowed into her mind like warm, caressing fingers attached from loving angels, as Todd pulled her deeper into the woods. The world outside the community is exciting…but this is my home,” Sarah thought as Todd hurried slowed down to help her step over a fallen log

Winter is coming. It is an inevitable fact of life (as well as the tagline of an excellent television show), and with the dark, cold portions of our lives come great challenges, both internal and external. In “Livvie” and “A Very Tight Place” respectively, Eudora Welty and Stephen King explore the winters of their central characters’ lives. In both cases, the characters emerge triumphant, and the freshness of spring has clearly arrived. With their protagonists’ powerful journeys, Welty and King suggest that the process of overcoming psychological and physical barriers is akin to rebirth.

The cold winter breeze hit her skin as she stepped out of the warm truck, ordinarily, she immediately wrapped her arms around the black coat attempting to keep her warm, as she was freezing from the sudden temperature change from the truck into the chilly air. Looking back to the sled being drawn out of the back of the truck, then she turned around and her eyes landed on the Rocke’s house, their close family friends. Gazing briefly at her parents one last time, ran to the door of the house, ready to get out of the cold momentarily.

She needed to see herself, to clean herself. But when the light illuminated her face, all she saw was blood. Coating her hair, her face, her dress- where sweat had once been, blood now dripped down her temples, down the bridge of her nose, over her lips. Her breath was caught in her throat as she clawed at her hair, her eyes darting around the bathroom for a towel, a rag, anything.