Scars - Original Writing : Scars

The short stories “Scars” by Don Aker and “Ashes” by Susan Beth Pfeffer are both talking about the relationships between fathers and their child. The relationships between fathers and their child change almost opposite at the end of the story because the main characters learn from their experiences. Daniel, the protagonist of “Scars”, was having a weak relationship with his father, however, an accident made Daniel realizes something about his father which made their relationship stronger. Ashleigh, the main character of “Ashes”, loved her father however, a request that Ashes’ father made led Ashes feel disappointed about her father. Both Daniel and Ashleigh learn the same amount because they learn the lessons that can affect their life.

The feeling of pain has often been referred to as a controversial one, as one of the sensations that is felt by the body. Recently, discussions about the subject of pain have been focused on the difficulty encountered in trying to establish a definition for it. Because pain has no one definition, expressing it becomes quite elusive for the sufferer, which then leads to the difficulty in the understanding of pain by an outsider. Elaine Scarry makes a strong argument that “to have pain is to have certainty” whereas, “to hear about pain is to have doubt,” (Scarry, 13) and with this she emphasizes that pain is almost impossible to deduce by an outsider because all they experience is “doubt.” Although Scarry’s argument is valid, Joanna Bourke makes a contrasting argument that, “indeed, hearing about or witnessing another person’s pain could actually destroy the onlooker,” (Bourke, 46) which could be interpreted to mean that one’s pain could in fact be shared by others as opposed to Scarry’s argument. Therefore, the transferability of pain in American Sniper and Schindler’s List stems from the acknowledgement of the pain of the sufferer through the use of framing and close up shots of the onlooker, and it is that acknowledgement that makes for the possibility of the sharing of pain in regards to the situations of war in the movies.

me were living with constant fear and apprehension. It felt as though we always had a

I hung up and rushed to my car with anger filled up inside of me thinking in my head why would he kill his own mother. I banged on Whites door he opened it and I kicked him against the wall. He asked me what I was doing. I screamed "Why did you kill your own mother!?"He punched me in the face and gave me an evil looking smile. " It was necessary." He said. " And now it's your time to die!" He shot me and I managed to get to my car and drive off but at the corner of my eye I saw him laughing and smiling in an evil way like a crazy person.

The wounded man took out first aid kits peroxide and treat the wound. The cut terribly burned, Tom tightly gritted his teeth and put a plaster on his thigh.

It’s the tale as old as time, the monster that lurks within the shadows under the bed, or withering in the corner of the closet. The child tremors until the parent checks the entire room, vanishing all doubts of safety. As a child, I shared these fears, but as I outgrew these demons I learned that the real angst was always hiding within my self; the fear of the unknown. It’s uncontrollable, and only discovered once time has revealed its destiny. It goes beyond the standard questions of why or what. The anxiety that fell upon me was so overwhelming it disturbed my everyday; making the future my personal villain.

There was a loud bang on the door. I sat up right away along with the other 13 people in my room. A soldier dress in head to toe with his uniform along with a winter jacket. He threw five pieces of bread on the floor and told us to go to work before leaving. The bread only got split upon nine of us; I was one of those nine. I had noticed a young boy did not get a piece so I gave him mine. The boy looked at me with a blank stare and took the bread from my frangile bonny fingers. I stood up, buttoned my shirt and adjusted my shorts. Under that slats of wood I slept on, I hid a scarve that I stole from a dead woman. I pulled it out and tucked it in my shirt so no one would notice. As I stepped out the door frame I felt a chilling breeze up my

I was so scared that my father would come back for another blow up. I then heard the stairs getting louder like my mother was step in down the old wooden steps. My mother walked over to me sat on the window seat with me and held me tight, she was started tell gn me riddles to get my mind off of my father, several long hours later my father walked up to us crying and sobbing over what had happened he said,”I'm sorry about this incident, I've just been so stressed with work and home that I don't know who I am anymore,” I told my father I loved him and forgive him. Ever since this day it has been drilled in my memory and hurts me every time I remember. “ see kid”, said the stranger, I've had some tough times in this house and you are going to go through tough times just like me. After the tour of the house the man had thanked the family for letting him remorse from the house. The father had shut the door and locked it. I thought

Tonight was a terrible yet great day. The bushwhackers had attacked us tonight. These black souled men come and bother anti-slave families. As I was working on our land on the farm, I heard my father's sea horn. This horn was only blown during emergencies, and I knew my family was in danger. I quickly hopped on our mule and raced back home. I then saw two large men. They had said they were apart of the Union and they were hungry. My father allowed them into the house, and my father ordered me to go unharnessed the mules. When I was in the barn, I heard my little sister screaming. I quickly ran back to the house and saw one of the men pointing a gun to my father's chest. They wanted to kill father. I was furious and couldn't hold in my anger.

1. Tell us about a Community Service project which was personally significant to you. Describe your involvement.

What I learned and understood about my father through conversations with my older siblings was about the impact of the loss of my grandfather (my father’s father) at an early age, heavy responsibilities taken on at an early age (hardship of the Depression era) to help support his mother and younger siblings. This led him to a strong sense of responsibility and a deep faith. But it all made him seem emotionally unavailable. The hard times for black families dealing with racial discrimination and the horrors of Jim Crow led to strictness that he, in all likelihood, felt was necessary for the survival of his children. There simply was no place for lighthearted fun. This greater understanding led to a stronger connection with my father, and an appreciation for such things as his devotion to having taken care of his family, his integrity, compassion for those less fortunate than himself, and the commitment as a deacon and Sunday school teacher.

All the sources discussed in this paper are mainly focused on the importance of the death penalty, the history of the death penalty, and cases involving it. Throughout the entries there is a great amount of controversies. Cases against the death penalty were because of the lethal injection used, the belief of tribes, and the positions of abolishers. The books discussed where informational to reader that didn’t know the reasons behind capital punishment. Incorporating papers that supported capital punishment helped support the position paper assigned previously. The different cases are describing the reason for the death penalty, which help people understand why the death penalty is needed.

My mother had it rough growing up. Forced to be out of the house nearly by dawn and only to return by nightfall, she was ignored and turned away by her mother. All throughout her childhood, and most of her young adult life until she ran away, my mother was

When one thinks about their “home”, they get a comfortable feeling, happiness, tranquility, etc. Now, the feeling that I get when I’m at home is stress, an unknown place, sadness in which causes me to want to escape and live in a fantasy world in my mind. My house isn’t a home to be in or live in at all due to the sour relationship my stepfather has towards me, the confinement and misery, and finally the treatment I receive at home. First, my stepfather and I have a sour relationship due to his fault because he treats me like trash and always talk bad things about me behind my back to my mother or siblings. However, when my mother is home he does not say a word or treat me like dirt but recently my mother has noticed that all he does is talk about me and how I’m no good and he tries to persuade my siblings to hate me. But let’s get one thing straight, even if my siblings resent me which they don’t but if they did, they would know the whole truth about their father and who he really is, for he is the devil. I’m not as a simile, I’m saying it because it is the truth. My stepfather might look like an angel and a person who would seem like they could not hurt a fly but, if he has the chance he will do it behind your back. He made me feel like I lived in hell, in a confinement and misery for he didn’t allow me to text, have friends or even hang out with them. Lastly, he said I couldn’t have a boyfriend and the time he figured I was talking to a guy he went all crazy and

political conditions, and social transformations in North Atlantic societies at the end of the 20th