The Young Blonde - Original Writing Essay

When it was written in 1925, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, by Anita Loos was heralded as a tremendous novel. It was seen as cutting edge and insightful, yet somewhat risqué in its portrayal of Lorelei Lee and her escapades. I can see how this may have been thought at that time, seeing as how women were looked at in such a different way then they are currently. The fact that a women with as little know-how as Lorelei can manipulate men the way that she does, leaves no question as to who is the superior gender in Loos’ mind. While the books is quite amusing, and does have many strengths, if it is looked at in the context of women’s struggles with issues such as domesticity, sexuality and socioeconomic standing it seems less and less like such

It was a cloudy day, a mild 78 degrees and Lezley McSpadden was taking a drag of her cigarette outside of the local grocery store where she was employed. She was midway through her shift when a friend of hers called and said that someone had been shot by Canfield Green Apartments. Maybe it’s only a mother’s instinct to recoil in fear, but in that moment Lezley could think only of her son Michael. Michael had recently graduated three months before and she wasn’t sure of his

Now, as I stand upon the soon to break limb, I regret everything. Seeing the river below sent a stream of tingles down my spine. I’ve never been afraid of heights until now. The river, a disturbing mossy green, appeared cold to the touch. Even with it being Summer, the depths of the river looked like a cold shower I never wanted to take. I would, in a certain degree, rather get ratted out by one of the teacher’s inside than jump from this ungodly tree. From my peripheral vision, the two boys were hollering. Finny more than Gene. Consistently, Gene loved the thrill and excitement of danger. With every fiber of my being I praise God that the two boys didn’t dare invite anyone else to the impending doom of my death. Below, I hear the noise of a nearby toad. It’s mouth depicting a loud ribbit. Perhaps predicting my impediment that was soon to come. I glance towards Gene. Silently asking if this was an exceptional idea. He looked at me with a pointed look before proclaiming “you’ll be fine” and turning towards Finny “won’t she?”. Finn thought for a second “Notwithstanding, Kristen is a girl. For the same reason, she won’t! She’s invariably schlemiel.” Anger flashed in my eyes and by the looks of it Gene could tell. With a searing eyeroll and quick turn of my stature, I was

Outside, a deep silence fell over the neighborhood. This silence crept into every household. Members of the community had a guise of anger and pain expressed on their faces. Everyone locked themselves inside, to lament such a tragedy that has brought sorrow to a twelve years old’s family. Parents fell on their knees with tears in their eyes. This last murder represented the final straw. So many of their own had been murdered by the malicious, metallic, monsters that were supposed to be the defenders of their community. They felt insecure, threatened by the

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

One night, thoroughly past her bedtime, Georgiana crept stealthily downstairs to sneak a bite of pie, even though her mother would never approve. She immediately realized a heavy drape of desolation. The only noise was her heart beating to the rapid rhythm of the twitching fan. Georgiana thought that no one would be awake at one in the morning. She slipped through the doorway into the kitchen. For an instant, her heart stopped. A dreadful sight stood in her way. An innocent and isolated individual lay with his hand grasping for life, but it was already over. Taking a step back, she

I walked to the room at the end of the hall that led to the attic. I slowly placed my foot on the first step, calling out for Nancy. When I finally reached the top, I saw a long haired woman standing by the window with her backed turned to me. "Chelsea? What the hell are you doing here?" She was holding an axe in her hand and I started backing up, with no intention on going any further. She turned around and to my surprise, it was not Chelsea at all, but Nancy. She had blood rolling down her forehead, from the scalp that was ripped from Chelsea's head. "Oh, Dear," she said. "You gave me quite a fright." She started walked toward me. "What do you think?" She asked, running her fingers through the

I have felt pure terror course through my body, completely, overshadowing my instinct, as I was followed by three persistent teenage boys for an hour and a half. I couldn’t enjoy my tour, knowing they were stalking behind me and feeding off the fear emitting from my body. My legs were shaking as I bolted from their grasps in to the car waiting to take me home. I cried knowing that I might have not made it home that night, and although I was lucky, it could have ended differently and in others cases it has been. The Gift Of Fear can benefit multitudes of people around the globe, since it can permit the readers to utilize their given capability to identify and avert repetitious casualties and harm. Offering distinctive answers for individuals who are managing mistreatment from a spouse or brutality in a working environment, De Becker gives one of a kind knowledge into deathly encounters with stalkers, professional killers, and mass murders. Alleviating the fears that overwhelm us, by finding the root of the source, and quite possibly lengthen our

Lifting your head up from a nap from the cold wood-finished desk, trying to overcome the haziness from your eyes as you look at your teacher, turning your head to the right your friend is taking a colorful page of ocean-blue, rosie-cheek-pink, lime-green, purple heart majesty colored notes and you wonder why you are doing the same. You suddenly hear loud thuds coming up the metal-rusted ramp outside leading to the door. The door swings open with a powerful “swoosh” and an eerie creek from the rusted bolts follow. A gun walks in, following a middle-aged white man who has a distorted look in his eyes.

As a five year old girl draws a picture for her grandma in her kindergarten class, a sweaty older man bursts in. Her teacher shrills and covers the kid standing next to her. She begs screaming, “Please don’t hurt the childr…”, but with one pull of the trigger both the teacher and the student fall. The man’s eyes examined the child’s classroom. He lifts up his gun and shoots down the line of students like it was a carnival game. The little girl envisioned her grandma reaching her arms out to help her off the bus, but before she could reach her, everything went dark. The portrait of her grandma was splattered in red and the little girl laid beside it, dead.

Rain fell from the cloudy night sky and pounded against the ground, and standing off from a two-story house was a man dressed in a traditional men’s kimono. He watched as the parents of Sarah and Samantha, Dennis and Caroline climbed into their Maroon Honda Pilot as they did every Friday night at 8pm until midnight, leaving their two 16 year old daughters all alone. His eyes followed the car intently as it drove down the road with several different colored leaves blended together on the road and the two back tires of the car. Once it turned the corner, out of sight, he turned back to the house. As he watched them through the bay window leading to the living room he went through the facts of his victims over in his mind. While they were twins, they were very different. Sarah, the older twin was very adventurous while Samantha kept more to herself. Along with the facts of the girls going through his mind he was wondering if he was going to kill them right away or if he was going to take them to a house that he had set up for his victims in one of the abandoned houses in the woods. The man was brought out of his thoughts as another car pulled into the driveway. He relaxed once he saw that it was just the delivery guy from the local pizza place, right on schedule.

It was a pleasant fall Tuesday when Stephanie went to work. Her day normal consisted of writing reports, and filing paperwork for her office. She turned on the television to see if there was anything alluring in the news. “NEWS FLASH: MAN CONVICTED OF MURDER HAS ESCAPED PRISON.” The warning did not phase her, considering the jail was far from her office. She concluded that she was safe. By four o’clock, it was time for her to travel home from a laborious day of work. She arranged her things into her bag, and began her trek. Walking out the door, she was met with warm rays from the sun. It was an astounding way to end a strenuous

A young girl walks through the halls of her high school, clutching a book to her stomach as if it were a shield, her hair falling in her face blocking most of her vision except what was in front of her. She kept her head down. She climbs the stairs one by one, the world turns into a blur as she sees her tormentor standing at the top of the staircase. It’s already too late to turn around and go back, they’ve already seen her. Hands grab at her book, and she is pulled away from the swarm of students. Without warning she is shoved, tumbling backwards. Her head meets a metal bar, her wrist gets caught in the railing, the weight of her body tugging on it until it snaps out of place. She slides down the rest of the steps, pain erupting her. Something skids

The use of mise-en-scene in John Ford’s classic western is very important when it comes to conveying the meanings and effects in “My Darling Clementine”. This essay will study the mise-en-scene of the film, to explore the meaning of violence and the effects of civilization on the frontier. The effects of civilization are very apparent in the film, as it seems that Ford has tried to explore the juxtaposition of civilization and wilderness. Henry Ford’s character, Wyatt Earp, an ex-Marshall who is herding cattle west to california with his brothers, acts as a kind of catalyst for the town’s civility.

During an early spring morning, Lynda Ann Healy went missing and Ted Bundy would soon be the one to blame. At first no one thought anything of her absence, but her friends and family soon grew suspicious when Healy did not show up for dinner as expected. Lynda’s parents soon called the police and when the police investigated lynda’s dorm room they were shocked at what they had found. Lynda’s bed was made a way she had never made it before, a sheet and a pillow case were missing, a spot of blood had been found on the sheets, and the police had discovered that the door had been broken into. No one had any answers for the sudden absence of Lynda Healy, but as soon as many other women started to go missing during the same time, they knew answers would soon arise. Ted Bundy is a human monster through his unorthodox behavior of kidnapping, rape, and murder while he exhibits how the combination of both nature and nurture create a strong sense of fear and a petrifying personality, proving how human monsters are capable of creating more fear than the fear that was generated by the fictional character Jigsaw.