The Memories Of A Horrible Day

Winnie sighed. She had been waiting for Mr. Scamander to come back for a few hours. The minute he had left, she started wandering around, looking at the beautiful, strange creatures around her. But she began to get bored. Not that anyone could get bored of these animals, each one was as fantastic as the one before. She was bored because she was a people person, and she had no one to talk to, unless you counted the jarvey, which Winnie certainly did not. So after a few minutes, she found her way back to the room she had originally fallen into. She sat right beside the ladder, glancing up every few minutes, hoping that he would come. She didn’t know how long it took to get to Saint-Pierre, but she imagined it couldn’t be longer than half a day.

Into this atmosphere of spiritual paralysis the boy bears, with blind hopes and romantic dreams, his encounter with first love. In the face of ugly, drab reality-"amid the curses of laborers," "jostled by drunken men and bargaining women"-he carries his aunt's parcels as she shops in the market place, imagining that he bears, not parcels, but a "chalice through a throng of foes." The "noises converged in a single sensation of life" and in a blending of Romantic and Christian symbols he transforms in his mind a perfectly ordinary girl into an enchanted princess: untouchable, promising, saintly. Setting in this scene depicts the harsh, dirty reality of life which the boy blindly ignores. The contrast between the real and the boy's dreams is ironically drawn and clearly foreshadows the boy's inability to keep the dream, to remain blind.

The Longest Memory is a novel by Fred D’Aguiar, which has many different underlying themes and ideas communicated through it, but all relating back to two main themes of the book. These themes are Racial Superiority and the opposing ideas of Slavery and Christian Values. The date in which this novel is set (early eighteenth century) was a brutal and a seemingly amoral time. The white population at that time had deemed it just to enslave African peoples, whom they had caught or lured onto slave ships and brought back to America. In 1861, there were 15 slave states, which agreed and consented towards enslavement.

She took a quick look around the last turn before the main street that led to the school. She noticed several boys and girls in the alleyways on both sides of the narrow street. It looked as if every class at her school, several young ladies and even her teacher waited for her in ambush. She ducked back before they could see her, hiked up her dress, and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her in the opposite direction of the angry mob. She didn’t stop until she had found the forest path that she needed and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard no one in pursuit. The forest surroundings felt different for some reason and it frightened her. It had a forbidding feel to it this dawn like she had never felt in the past.

Bella Storm walked down the sidewalk, waving to passersby, petting familiar dogs. Bella surveyed her town, she knew it well. Bella had lived in this town since she was born. She was walking down Bluebird Avenue when she came across something strange. An old, worn-down building, with peeling paint and crumbling bricks. Bella was puzzled, she’d never seen anything like this before. She walked up to the building and tentatively knocked on the door.

It was a very hot day in the middle of August, one that was so oppressively humid that the air felt like a blanket, which was why Lillie Everette, momentarily confused, awoke because she remembered kicking the sheets off her bed in the middle of the night. She yawned, then got dressed excitedly. She needed get ready for the Hide and Seek game that was starting soon. She had promised her friends that she wouldn’t sleep through this one like she had for the last game. She was about to run through her front door when she hears her parents talking.

Some would say it; the weather was perfect for a bad decision. Gazing into the deep, cloudy waters of the treacherous river, she was reminded of a memory that she oh so badly wanted to be just a dream, she wished that all pain caused from that particular event would vanish. Shaking her head and furrowing her eyebrows she tried to shake the imprint that the episode had left on her. The river's waves collided against the banks, the change in the river's motions reflected her relationship with her husband – calm at times, but a disturbance in the calm water can cause a ripple effect. She thought walking would be a calm way to get away from the pent-up emotions she had been trying to run from, but everything in sight reminded her of her him; and that he was no longer hers. She walked with her shoulder slouched as she re-adjusted the baby in her frail, cold arms. Her watery eyes stared into the nothingness of the mist, still slowly advancing down the rocky path with no distinct destination in mind. Like a broken record, the images replayed in her mind. It felt like a nightmare she couldn’t escape, no matter how far she ran and no matter how hard she tried. There was no use, because the chant of their door that was slammed moments before he left, bounced off her eardrums and it began to become the only thing she could hear. Her

Her eyes struggled to stay open, slowly blinking but never closing. Droplets from the clouds rolled down the windowpane, like copycats of those running down her face. The night was dark with shadows. The only sounds in the house were the plump raindrops falling on the windowsill, the clinking of beer bottles and the sound of her nervous breath. She had to stay awake for she had left the moment he had passed out on the dusty couch in the living room. Her sweaty palms clutched the leather straps of her bag. Her body shook like a small dog’s and the wind made the trees sway like the ghosts of everything she’d ever known. The sound finally came and so did the closing of her bedroom door.

The night was dimly lit by the lamp light on the busy streets of New York. There was a strange sense of peace that settled in the darkness, though it may have been his imagination. However, he could not shake the fulfilling feeling that he had discovered from his near death experience. His entire way of thinking had seemed to have completely changed in only a matter of a few eternal minutes.

I turned on the light. I hadn’t been in here since the night I drew the butterfly gift. I had thought of this room often since then. Not only because of the desire to draw which burned within me, but I also hoped to return in search of the record. It had been impossible to this point for me to come here without question; my movements were monitored regularly since Frau Franke’s accusation. If not by her personally, it seemed as though she employed others in the cause. I was rarely alone.

It wasn’t a good day. Thick blackened clouds hovered over the town. It brought down heavy rain, with large distinguishable drops. The silence from fear was disrupted by the large roaring thunder. The tents allowed water to drip inside, the gusting wind caused the tents to dance in the wind.

It was a clear sky that night, completely black and the stars twinkled like new born babies. The rain had left a soothing fragrance in the air and when mixed with oxygen in the lungs, it felt divine. It felt Nirvana.

The village of Bellagio was basking in sunlight. The ripples caused by bubble children playing in the stunning Lake Como cast rays of light onto the faces of the cafes and pretty little boutiques that lay on the waterfront. The village jutted out into the lake like someone had sliced the land on either side of it away. Sounds of birds and wildlife filled the air, perfectly harmonizing with the bubbly screams of delight of the children, although this soon faded into a serene twilight, the sun sinking and the beautiful purples, pinks, reds, and golds fading into the deepest shade of navy blue, frequently interrupted by bright speckles of silvery light. An almost cloudless sky. Laughter and music floated through the narrow streets and luminous

While in that twilight state before waking up, she said, “I saw a bright man and he came to me from a very beautiful, dreamlike place.” He told me, “It isn’t time for you to die.” “Please, can’t I stay,” I asked. But he told me again, “You must return.” She woke up a short time later and didn’t know what to think about her experience.

Rain patterned down, striking the metal roof of the small trailer and sluiced off the sides, causing large puddles to form on the ground, and turn it to slush and mud. Inside, the digital clock beside on the nightstand ticked over from 3:08am to 3:09am, and the face of bed's male occupant screwed up in distaste. Emitting a light snore, he buried his lips into the hair of the naked woman next to him, and tightened his already secure grip further around her, subconsciously afraid she might be taken from him whilst he lay dead to the world.