Personal Narrative-Home

John Grisham and Oliver Stone are known for writing repulsive screenplays and novels; however, Grisham thinks that the people should not celebrate the murders of the public. The victims that were apart of the copycats from the movie Natural Born Killers had a lawsuit over Stone because two teenagers thought they could pull off a copycat murder. On the other hand, evaluating violence in movies has no effect on the audience, who is only expressing the freedom of speech.

Our direct competitors would be H&R Block and Jackson Hewitt, respectively. H&R Block has a professional atmosphere and gives off an ambiance that they are knowledgeable and capable. They have educated employees and trained professionals there to assure customers that everything will go well. Jackson Hewitt has a more casual and “home style” approach that allows it to be more welcoming and less

His heart raced very badly. His mother knocked again. ‘Greg?’ Gregor looked at the doorknob, secretly wishing that it would never be turned. Now he heard conversation and the next moment the door flung open, revealing the affectionate couple, standing consciously in the hallway, half peering into the messy bedroom.

“I’m going to break you.” She said. “Every single bone in your body and once you recover, I’ll do it again if I have to.”

“Tell me, how does a pathetic, worthless, but yet intelligent person get into this mess and end up here?” Seymour asks, not really expecting an answer, but to dignify his still anger, uses his carved, smooth surface of his wooden baseball bat to strike her left knee, which has fell off for the fifth time now, since she awoken in the mysterious room. She was tired, hungry, thirsty, homesick, and yet so furious the adrenaline pumped bitter life into her and she sat, ropes to her chest, arms, and legs, thinking about life before this moment. “She gets the million dollar questions correct, but only by taking wild guesses,” she manages to say, hoping this sacred fuel will last forever. Before taking another swing at her leg, he chuckles, and then

I don’t get why my sister is sending me here, sending me to rehab. Its not like I have a problem. Ok, I have a slight problem but that doesn’t mean I need to go to rehab for it. She thinks it will help me “get better”. I get so annoyed with her when she says that. All she ever says to me now is do this and you’ll get better, try harder and maybe things would work out. Try harder. You don’t think I’ve tried my whole life to fix the things that are wrong with me. I have. I fought every single day and nothing ever changed. I’m still the same way I was since I was little. I’m still messed up. I know I am but she can’t honestly think that rehab is going to help can she? I highly doubt it.

Shouting as loud as he could, Greg pulled himself out of the cave, determined not to miss them. He cried out in acute desperate pain, and his leg screamed back at him as he pulled himself on his stomach across the rock calling out to them the whole

"You can't keep holding on to stuff like this, James." Natasha sighed, slipping a delicate hand through her hair. "It's not healthy."

"Scarlett, he will be back. As will the others. Right now, we have the living to care for. We must save them first." It was as if my thoughts had been heard.

I push my red hair behind my ears, as I lift the half-awake man in my hands. The unknown man was getting paler and paler as he lost more and more blood. This is no use, I have no phone on me and no car. Struggling to pick up the guy I steadily walked to my house.

“Hmmph! WHERE ARE THE PLUGINS THAT I WANT!?” My manager’s words resonated through my body and my eyes started to flare. My fingers nimbly typed out the words that would lead me to a comforting place. I dove into the world of coding languages where the limit’s the sky and I knew how to fly.

I stared blankly at the wall ahead of me. Noise in the background became an almost hypnotising buzzing, like that of a bee in my ear. Slowly my vision became blurry, colors clumping together and mixing. As the shapes around me became one, so did my thoughts. Thousands of pointless questions and statements clustering together into one, but a bark of laughter knocked me out of my trance.

“I only agreed to the date to get Mom off my back!” Nadia shouted into her phone, which was laying across on the dresser, bumping up and down as she marched to her closet. The phone vibrated with every step, making the response almost inaudible. It didn’t stop Nadia from trying to carry on the conversation anyway, her head halfway through a dress as she shouted at the phone on the other side of the room. “What do you think, Sophia?”

When Shay made the last call for alcohol, Francisco and I had one final drink. We sat patiently at the bar while the lights came on and the staff made sure that people were exiting the building. I looked around at them in their wet clothes, and everyone was smiling. Everyone had a good time, and I felt that I was responsible for that because I'd brought Francisco. He was the best, and I was glad that I'd stopped at that car lot the other day and met him.

My photos are sort of inspired by two movies. At first I was going for a Toy Story feel, were the toys come to life when then the owner leaves. But half way through doing my project I decide to take a dark turn, and went more for more of a Chucky type feel. Both of my pictures where taken in the day time, but I edited them to kind of make it look like it was nighttime with the moonlight shining through the windows, hence the blueish tone the images and videos have.