Teniyah Jones: A Short Story

Every individual person has their own way of finding comfort in difficult situations. From finding comfort in simple things like eating a cupcake to harmful and unhealthy ways like self-harm. As readers read through Autobiography of a Face by Lucy Grealy, they witness the cruelty and pain Lucy goes through as she gets treated for her cancer and how it drastically changes her appearance and affects her whole life. When Lucy was young, before she was diagnosed with cancer, her comfort was being an excellent tomboy because she was a terrible athlete but a good gamer for casual and daring games. However, that all changed when her treatment for cancer started. Ever since then, Lucy’s life became full of pain, and she withstood that pain by taking comfort in certain things.

This girl has been through hell and back. She has made it through the hard times and good times, when telling her family what’s wrong once, yet they didn't understand. So through the years she has learned to put up a wall and not show the person inside. You will learn who this girl is---what she has faced.

Kyle couldn't have done anything more to make the night perfect than looking her eye in the eyes and telling her he wanted to kiss her. Curling into a giggling, giddy ball against the bed, Azairah kicked off her heels and undid the zipper to her skirt. Tomorrow they'd hit the road again and tomorrow mean one less person that needed to exist and just one more person who'd be saved. Undressing and not concerned whether Kyle saw and slipped off her red outfit. Azairah knew he'd be the first to understand the scars that adorned her body. That small gashes and nicks and cuts painted across her body was the result of her experience. But it was okay if Kyle saw

In this story of a woman named Mrs.Jones walked down the street and when she pasted Roger. Roger is a young boy who followed Mrs.Jones. When she turned that corner roger started to run behind and tried the snatch her purse. But the boy’s weight and the weight of the purse. After Mrs. Jones said “Pick up my pocketbook a boy and give it here”. Mrs. Jones still held Roger’s shirt. Then she said “you must be ashamed of yourself boy”. Mrs. Jones put her arms around Roger’s head to take him home and she wanted Roger to be her son. Mrs. Jones said “Roger your face is dirty”. Ain’t you got anybody at home to tell you to wash your face? Mrs. Jones said “your face going to get wash this evening.

Have you ever known someone who acts tough but is actually very nice? In the story thank you ma'am, I noticed that even if Ms. Jones seems tough on the outside, in the inside, she is very empathetic. This is because she can relate to the boy, she cares for the boy, and she acts tough.

Time passed, and for a long time the man and woman were happy but they felt like something was still missing. It was then they decided to make a child together, to make their family complete. Thus, ten years after the man and woman began their life together a little girl was born.

I n the story thank you mam there was a boy name roger and, a women name Mrs. Jones. Roger wanted a pair of suede shoes, and thought he had to steal to get them. One day Mrs. Jones was walking the street, and Roger came by and tried to run off with her purse. It all went down when Roger slipped and fell. Mrs. Jones walked over and stepped right in Roger chest while she took her purse. She asked why you tried to steal my purse he had no answer, so she jacked him up and off they went. Once Mrs. Jones and roger reached their destination her house, she gave roger a towel, because his face was dirty. Roger wasn’t worried about anything but was Mrs. Jones going to take him to

She lay awake at night listening to the cries in the next room. The cries of a girl who never felt good enough. One night she stepped out of bed, and walked towards the cries. She saw two people sitting on a bed, one crying on the other’s shoulder. “Momma what do I do?”, the girl’s cries turned to sobs and she struggled to get the words out. This was the first time she had seen the girl cry even though she heard them every night. People had criticized the girl to the point where she couldn’t handle it and broke down. My heart ached for the girl. The people were criticizing her because in their minds she was “just too skinny for normal.”

The young girl holding a smiling clown mask while she cries gives me the illusion that she pretends to be “perfect” to everyone around her, but when she is alone she removes that mask of fake perfection to reveal that in actual reality she is falling apart. This calls to me because this is how I was during my years as a high schooler. While I attended high school, I went through a lot of personal issues and instead of seeking help, I often pushed it aside and put a fake smile on my face when I was around people. These people would often come up to me and ask how I was able to be so happy and positive all the time. They didn’t know, however, that in reality I was a complete mess.

Growing in a safe environment and thinking the world is under your control when you are young can make you confident and express yourself. This comfort zone is not forever, and when something that was not expected occurs, it brings the ideal world down and can change your daily life. Going from the happiest stage of life to a drastic and dramatic tragedy can change someone’s views about how confident he or she is. Not being able to accept how different you are now because something that changed in the outside can intimidate the talented, smart person on the inside. Realizing and analyzing other people’s imperfections makes you see how you are not the only one who has something that you do not want other people to see or criticize. Analyzing the story in “Beauty: When the Other Dancer is the Self” by Alice Walker, her character explores how the theme of the story develops from the beginning, middle, and the end of the story.

Not so long ago during the years of the war lived a girl, with the most exquisite features. She lived in the town that had been devastated by the bombings of the enemy’s aircrafts, but to the eyes of the World the war had not destroyed her innocent mind on the contrary she would always help everyone and tried to bring joy to her fellow townspeople. She was beloved by her arrogant mother who would always put her daughter above the rest, and her old grandmother who was locked in a nursing home because at home she was not able to be taken care of as in a nursing home.

She went to sit up but found herself tied up in ropes. The door swung open and in stepped Jacob, out of the chain mail you could now see his skin with scars all up his arms. His blonde hair was flopped into his eyes. "You weren't supposed to get hurt, but now I guess I have to come clean." Jacob said going to a chair. "I recently realized that my father was killed by the king, not by a wild beast like my mother had led me to believe, so I planned to take on the castle, then I was approached by my boss who told me about his plan. I agreed, and here we

It had been a while since Roger had seen Ms. Luella Bates Washington Jones in quite a long time. He remembered exactly where the house lay. Lots of times he thought of going back to the house and seeing Ms. Bates again but thought otherwise.

Whenever she walked to the public place she noticed the people stopping the talk in the middle in order to stare her. She even refused to go public water parks because she wasn’t able to stand the public bathing suit. She could eat whatever she wanted to eat but because of some unknown syndrome, she could not gain the weight regardless of her eating. She had to face every day the disappointment, rejection, and anger. The most challenging part of her life was that when people commented her video “ go get fire on your head and killed yourself”. She cried a lot but started to gain the strength standing herself in front of the mirror. She says: “ We can either decide to feel sorry for ourselves and throw the biggest pity party in the world and just be stuck in it or there’s this whole other side of everything that we do have in our

Pat, a close friend, has a rather subtle scar that is four inches long and as narrow as a piece of paper, right at the peak of his forehead. If you were to ask he would tell you it's from an ax. His parents had denied him permission to take their boat for the weekend. It was a foolhardy attempt to say the least. Winter was approaching and storms could appear out on the Alaskan Sea in seconds, every year somebody drowned. Pat didn't even have a drivers license yet. He met his parents wisdom with complaints and shouts and finally flew out the door of the house shouting, "I hate them, they are so damned stupid." The next sounds he made were grunts of anger as he viciously swung his father's double edged ax, hacking away like a berserker on a nearby saw horse. Again and again the ax fell, splintering wood and severing boards. Every chop screamed, "I hate you!" His fury reached a climax, his fathers saw horse was to be dealt the decapitating blow, so reaching high for a mighty swing he let loose with all his might. And snagged a cloths line. The ax spring up and neatly cut a four inch slice in his forehead. I stood watching, at a loss for words, as his unintelligible snarling