Quinen: A Fictional Narrative

I found this passage interesting because it left me thinking and analyzing it for some time. I didn’t quite understand it at first, especially the screaming part. Initially I thought it was the prisoner's form of suicide, but after a while I realized that it was only after he stared at his reflection for a couple seconds, that he let out the blood curdling scream. This lead me to conclude, that the man yelled out of shock and fear because he no longer recognized himself. When we

The narrator in this torture chamber is submitted to several kinds of traps and torments: the pit, the rats and the closing walls. He tries to escape from each one of these but every time he succeeds he finds himself in a worse situation than he was before. Inside the chamber he is deprived of the sense of sight so at first he cannot know where he is or what dangers surround him. His will however

. The day of my Quinceanera started early. I had just turned 15 and it was the birthday I had always dreamed of. I was always a dama in other Quinceanera’s, but now it was time for my own celebration. In Mexican culture, a dama is just like a bridesmaid. I had 14 of my closest friends as my dama’s to be a part of my “court of honor”. All 14 girls wore beautiful hot pink dresses and had polished hairstyles. The girls looked like beautiful dolls. When my mother was a little girl she had two Quinceanera’s. One celebration took place in Mexico and the other here in California. Looking back at my

In Latin America it is a custom for families to celebrate a daughters fifth-tenth birthday. This is a tradition to announce to the community that their daughter is ready to be part of the community as a woman. By this time, young girls know how to clean and cook, but most of all have the capability to bear children. The celebration is also a reminder that they soon will one day be married. Or the tradition can have a new meaning to a young girl’s life. Instead of motherhood they build their confidence and see themselves with potential to do what they dream of. Once Upon a Quinceañera by Julia Alvarez is ineffective because the quinceañera has and will always be associated to the grooming and preparation of young women into motherhood: As long

“Yeh, we’re almost there,” I answered checking my pocket watch. “My navigation skills don’t lie you know.”

The rusted metal door scrapped shut, followed by the jingle of keys in the lock. Footsteps of free people echoed throughout the dry air and bounced off the low ceilings, growing fainter as they moved toward the exit of this icy room. Another door slammed shut, screeching loud metallic echoes in my ears and scattering my brain. After a while, the only echoes, to be heard, were the quiet voices of private conversations and the rustle of paper, which melted together in a blissful orchestration. Florescent lights hum and buzz overhead; one blinked every so often as if it were about to die, much like my happiness had long ago. This description captures the true horror of imprisonment. A close examination will reveal

You are no longer in your neighborhood, inside your own house. Hundreds, if not thousands of total strangers now surround you. Upon entering prison the realization hits you; things are done differently. There are various types of people, and they do things differently on “the inside.” You start

It was time. Time for her big day. The day she has been waiting for her whole life. The day that was all for her. The day where she can have fun and hang out with everyone she loves. The day she will never forget.

“I just sent you texts with the pictures that I just took of her. The rangers are taking her to their HQ.”

Ever wondered what it's like to be a prisoner? He may have done something wrong to end up there, but ever wondered how someone's life is, once they get put behind the bars?

“Massena. I’ve been there before, it’s super simple to find. But Brad won’t be there when we get there, so we’ll have to make small talk with James.”

“Yep.” The man’s smile widens at Draco’s quip. “Now are you coming or not? Chuck will leave our asses behind if we’re late and you know

For as long as time had existed he had lived in that room. He was as old as the prison, itself. Surrounding him was four concrete looming walls. No scenery, except for the single danging lightbulb; a metal chute, and the door. The chute dropped food and a water bottle from the top of the wall with the door once a day. He couldn’t reach the ceiling, but he could touch opposite walls with his hands. He, if his fortune was good, would hear people talking when the chutes opened. Those were his favorite days; he called them holidays. He didn’t remember anything from the outside. He didn’t know what year it was, who the president was, or what country he was in. He was sure of one thing, he didn’t belong here.

Once one of the prisoner’s is released, he is forced to look at the fire and the objects that once made up his perceived reality, and realizes that the new images he is made to acknowledge are now the accepted forms of reality.

the second time Jiyool came here, I purposely left the door open, the whole time she was inside, I’m just outside the door listening to her. I’m happy that Jiyool changed from gloomy to a hyper kid because of you. I told her I know her secret and that I will help her. I want to see Jiyool happy."