Short Essay On The Tale Of Dahlia

His hands rose towards his throat quickly enough, his eyes wide and frightened. He seemed to have lost most of his strength when the girl left… He was only an adult, after all. Rose felt a little offended. Did they really think he could stand up to her all by himself? Rose, the leader of the True? She almost felt like laughing, but she felt like she would have to save it for later.

She hastened. She didn’t want to feel a sense of despotism over her love-they were equal. The sudden feeling of muzzle trapped her hands. The pang of knowing she wouldn't have a second chance.

Before she knew it, she had gripped them in her bloody fingers and had slashed her arm across her temple and a handful of hair had plopped into the sink. A manic, barking screech of a laugh bubbled from between her lips, followed by a whispered-

The harshness of her tone was softened by the concern in her eyes. The same eyes also watched for a reaction to her choice of wording. Some things don’t change no matter how close you let someone get.

She started imagining the worst; he’d leave her there for hours, aching, begging, potentially screaming and all it would do would fuel him even more and give him the satisfaction that he needed. He would know that she needed him otherwise she would go insane. She needed this one night and he was going to give it to her. She didn’t care if she had to scream or try and fight her way out of this cross. One way or the other, he was fucking her tonight. There was no other

Immediately she was torn between hundreds of different emotions, anger, disbelief, and hope. Small as it was, it was still there.

“Why did she go to the party if she knew that David had probably only invited her to embarrass her?”

Instead of acting all furious as if her mother would expect her to think that that is how she would react, she was as calm as she could be; she gave a sneaky grin and then said...

What a pitiful man he was. [b]"You are just too precious~ It is so cute that you think that is going to help you. I almost feel bad."[/b] She didn't feel even the slightest hint of remorse for what she wanted to do to him. Truthfully if it wasn't for the fact that he was dressed as a priest she may have let him walk away, but his faith had angered her and now he was going to have to suffer for it. The fact that she was fully engaged was the only thing keeping her from lunging forward and ripping into him, he was interesting enough and that was the key to his survival. Had she been in her human form he would have seen her smile at the fact that he stepped away from her rather than take off running like an idiot, she obviously needed to give him a bit more credit. [b]"So happy to see that you have a spine."[/b] She purred out her tail giving away her emotions as it wagged gently behind her. She had ventured outside the dome in hopes of a good chase having refrained from actively killing humans since their numbers began to dwindle down but it seemed she was willing to make an exception for this very special human. With her health in steady decline this very well could have been her last hunt and because of that, she was hellbent on dragging it

As she stood there in the doorway between the kitchen and the lounge, sour faced and clenching her fists, she weighed her options carefully. She could pounce at the woman, scare her from her comfortable seat in the armchair or she could outright do the unthinkable from where she was standing.

“Yes, and it was not an empty threat, but it was your hand not your head. They could have killed us. They had the advantage and chose not to. They may rue that one day. I saw no hate in their eyes—anger, even pity, but no hate. And, I so wanted to see the expression on one of their faces when they surrendered to my blade.”

However, instead of yielding to his presence, she met him in a steadfast manner – her gaze held, and a most unexpected smirk started to cross her features. She spoke to him in a gentle and polite manner, exactly as a sectary should, but there was no missing the scorn beneath her professional tone.

“GO AWAY!” She wailed in my face. Of course, I was not really doing anything to sabotage her, nor pestering her; she was just in a bad mood. I’m used to hearing this phrase come out of her mouth. Now I’m not going to lie, sometimes I provoke this action, for my own amusement, but most of the time I’m minding my own business.

He swung, her head falling to the ground with a thud. Freezing her last moments in place. Her brilliant blue eyes showed knowledge and wisdom beyond her years. A true smile, and triumph sketched over her blooded face.

Sabrina Neyra has been working at her parents business, a bakery and cafe, since she was just ten years old. “I always helped my mom with cake decorating.” she says. As she grew older, she received more responsibilities. Now, at the age of 14 she works as a hostess; greeting guests, showing them to their table, giving them menus and silverware, as well as telling them the specials. “The first time I had to serve, I was really scared that I would say something wrong.” she recalls.