Short Story Essay : The Story Of A Girl

To her, life was like an encompassing doom. It was bleak and she hates every second of it. Falling asleep hoping to get better and waking up still feeling the same is like a routine to her. She has to keep face and put up a strong front, putting on a mask and pretend that her life is perfect and that she is in fact happy.

Trista had always been a normal kid except for her stories. It wasn't that they were disturbing or horrific, they were just unusual. Sometimes they seemed exactly like the kind of thing you'd expect from a kid, but other times, I'd have to look at her and wonder how she came up with such things. It started when she was four, shortly after our dad split, leaving the two of us on our own.

As she went to her room she slammed the door as loud as she could. She started crying when she got into her room because her mom is forbidding her to see the person that she actually cares about and the person that she really loved. Towards the bottom of page 102 it says “It’s so unfair. I haven’t seen Sammi or Megan since school ended. Dan’s practically the only friend I have left in the world.”

You see that skinny boy 50 feet on the wall, covered in white powder and shaking, about to fall? “Yeah, that’s me”. The thing is, this is not like any teen story because something horrific is not happening, rather, something special. Something new. Something unexpected. I finally conquered a 5.11. Now, you may be wondering what a 5.11 is and why I have white powder and why I am so high. No, I promise I am not high, well, I am, but on a rock climbing wall in Stone Summit of Kennesaw.

He came in without a word. I was stropping my best razor. And when I recognized him, I started to

Beauty is determined by society and their standards. Women are expected to be skinny, pretty and to be a thin size which puts pressure on women. The pressures of society persuade women to go through extreme measures to fit in with society standards. This is evident in the short stories “The Falling girl” and “They’re Not Your Husband” as the main characters are impacted by social expectations, insecurity and peer pressure.

The bed beneath her creaks when she rolls over, facing the bars that trap her in here. She starts to imagine many things that could happen because after staring at grey concrete walls and grey ceiling for a while, your mind starts conjuring things up to keep itself occupied. She's already tried thinking of how she got her and every single scenario but is no

Okay, so the most memorable scene I have had in my life is when a girl pushed me off my toy

It is not her house she is sitting in, but “his.” Instead of just drinking coffee, she drinks excessively “till dawn”. This is a weird hybrid of normal and abnormal. It is further emphasizes through enjambment. Each of these seemingly normal deeds occupies their own line, making the reader wonder why these lines are so important if they depict mundane acts. Her deceptively normal actions highlight the woman’s true nature. After a while, she ends up “crawling back into [her] shadowy body,” ending all pretence of being a normal human. Her attempt to be normal is just an imitation. In the end, she can’t change who she is. Despite that, it is clear that she wants to change. She needs to crawl back into her shadowy body, almost like a pair of clothes that are too small. It isn’t a smooth transition, but a violent and struggling

That day all Margot did was look out the window wishing the sun would come back. When the bell finally rang, she walked home in the rain, but she didn’t take out her umbrella; she just walked and let the rain drown her. Then the tears finally came, and she started to cry. She cried long and hard as she walked home. When she turned the corner at the end of the block, she saw her house, but she knew right away that something was wrong because there was an unfamiliar truck in the driveway. As she got closer to her house, she noticed that the front door was ajar. She opened the door and saw that the furniture was gone and there were stacks of boxes

Amanda wakes up, passes by the mirror and goes straight to the her closet and gets dressed and then heads for the front door when she is stopped.

A girl named Frannie that does human life things. When she woke up Frannie started to put on her uniform for school. Her mother was making breakfast and Frannie came downstairs to eat. When Frannie was finished eating, she went to brush her teeth. While Frannie was doing that her mother was making lunch for Frannie to take to school.

Two shelves of old stuffed animals sitting and watching from above the windows. A closet full of the clothes that make her blend into the crowd like a ghost. The clothes that made her known as that girl who busted the party. A trip to the past every second, she sits in her bed drifting back into the past each night just to remind her that a new beginning is here, and nothing else will take her down. This room was her for the hardest parts of her life. The place where everything was fought from the aftermath of the rape, to the pain of losing her friends, and the feeling that no one was ever going to understand. The same pillow used to cover her head on nights with overbearing yelling from her parents, or thoughts pounding her head. This was a room of remembrance of everything she made it through, and the courage she built up during it.

It all started when she was on her way home from school. It was her birthday and she couldn’t wait to spend it with her friends. On her way back to her house a man in black cornered her into an alleyway and forced her to give him her money. She was terrified and wished that the man could just freeze so she could leave. Before she knew it the man stopped moving

Locks herself in a room by herself looking confused. Begin to weep. Strange person in the shadows