Purple Blood: A Short Story

“I’m fine!” they rushed out, forcing their eyes to meet with his. It almost stung. “I really am fine.”

Bloodsworth described the torments he faced while confined in the Maryland prison. Other inmates would yell through the pipes, “were going to get you Bloodsworth and do to you what you did to that little girl” (2013). He described being confined to a very small cell, while being kept locked away in isolation. He eventually went on to become the prison librarian. In prison he would keep up a healthy habit of reading. One day he came across a book that a guard had passed along. It was titled The Blooding, by Joseph Wambaugh. It was in this book that he learned about DNA evidence being used to secure convictions. He also realized that DNA evidence could also be used as a tool to exonerate.

The chill of winter air had nudged her from her slumber. Gazing through the window upon the dreary horizon, the blur of gray told Hulga that rain was nearing. Nervously, she backed into the corner away from the window and curled up next to a pile of hay and settled in. Soon after repositioning herself, Hulga heard the consistent patter of rain on the roof of the barn. Her eyes watered as she wondered if her mother had been frantically searching for her.

The superorganism’s magic solidified into chains that bound Kate into a haze of pain and exhaustion. Kate tried to lunge upward, but the weight of the forces pinned her. She howled a scream that was utter silence outside the suit whilst she convulsed.

“Medics here, who needs help?” he questioned. It’s almost like Sasha never heard me tell him I was fine.

A girl, who looked no older than ten, had her hands pressed up against the window. She had blood covering her from head-to-toe, including her fingers, which creating crimson patterns against the glass. The girl looked terrified, her eyes widened and mouth wide open in shock. She screamed again, which shook Lauren from her stupor.

It had been dark and overcast the entire day, but as night approached the true intensity of the storm erupted into a light show of lightning and a symphony of thunder. The rain didn’t just fall, rather it blew in sideways in ribbons of cold and icy stinging pellets that tried to cut at Mike and Katie’s exposed cheeks. Mike tilted his head into the wind and clutched his coat collar closed with his left hand while pulling Katie close with his right and heading them both toward the bright sterile lights of the emergency room entrance.

In the Pulitzer Prize winning novel, The Color Purple, there is one constant occurrence throughout this fictional masterpiece: abuse. The protagonist, Celie, endures chronic physical, emotional, mental, verbal, and sexual abuse almost her entire life. Celie's constant endurance of multiple types of abuse displays the damaging physical and psychological effects of the average African-American woman in the early 1900s. Alice Walker tells the miraculous story of a young African-American woman's survival in addition to the narrator's journey to discover her individuality through romantic and platonic relationships during a time of racial segregation and female oppression.

The Color Purple, written by Alice Walker illuminates the struggles African-American women face in the early twentieth century. They are all joined together through love, hatred and hard times in life. The narrator and one of the main characters, Celie, age fourteen lives in Georgia.

“Are you alright?” Gilbert asked in a low, worried voice. His hand brushed hers and Anne swiftly drew herself up and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

As he thumbed off the safety, he allowed himself one last, stolen glance at the sculptured head, arching up to grasp an apple. Jamie swallowed and Pulled the trigger as he saw the buck leap really high and fall onto his back. The other deer ran away in fear. Jamie was so eager to get a closer look so he ran up to the buck and he saw his eyes were closed, then he remembered that his dad told him that a person should never walk up to the deer right away, and if he did make sure that the eyes we're not closed. As soon as he remembered Jamie jumped in fear, the buck was gone. Jamie looked and saw blood where the buck took off. He decided to follow the blood trail. After about five minutes Jamie couldn't see blood anymore and there was two paths

It is then at that moment that the sky bursts into tears. I shudder violently; I can almost feel the anguish the heavens are screaming out. I can almost feel the pain. There wasn’t even a warning drizzle; it simply started to pour. My window’s half open, revealing the storm behind my flimsy window screen, and I’m getting pelted by raindrops. I rush to close the sliding window, but not the entire way; I leave a small crack to let in relieving gusts of fresh air and return to my seat, a little wet, but I’ll survive.

I have heard how amazing you are from many different people. I have also heard that your class is super difficult. I was tremendously nervous at first, but I think it will be a great year for the both of us. I have been told that you are a sweet heart but you should be feared and trust me you have the whole grade terrified. I know you frightened my brother Austin.

Estelle Wilson awakens just moments before the soft hue of dawn breaks outside her bedroom window. Her mouth taste of copper, her heart pounding into her ribs. The pain in her temples throbs along to the beat of her erratic heart. Trembling hands move to smooth the damp strands of brown hair away from her face. She stumbles from the tangled mass of sheets towards the open window. Pale fingers cling to the window frame as she gulps in fresh air. Breathing deeply, she tries to dismiss the feeling of distress bubbling up in her chest.

She hastily put Curly on one hoof and Tru on the other; and sneaked trembling out of the slaughterhouse. As Blacky shuffled along searching for a safe place to hide, she wandered dazed to the