Urine Trouble: A Short Story Essay

A small raindrop not only accumulating speed and density but also dirt as it slid down the window of the incredibly tiny four-door that my aunt hadn't washed in a while as it seemed. The drop had reached an ample size and had a plentiful amount of dust and grim as it glided on to the front side of the handle and finally came into contact with my hand in what seemed like my last moments of freedom which I had only attained after leaving my session. The cool air from the vents was blasting powerfully against my cheek as I checked what my Aunt Avery was doing and of course, she was staring directly at me waiting to see what I had to say about my experience.

The familiar aroma of coffee fills the air as I enter the not so common area. I feel very bewildered in the labyrinth of hallways searching for my classroom just like I had stepped into corn maze as a child. At last, I locate the secluded room tucked away inside the massive building. Even though the number on the door matches the number on my schedule I am still second guessing if I am in the right place. The door opened up as students poured out. Finally, I took my seat at the back, trying my hardest to sit down unnoticed. My hands were shaking as I wrote the class name at the top of my paper. After what seemed like ages the professor proceeded to

It was a beautiful day. It was dark, cool, and damp, just the way I like it. I looked over at Cassandra and Connor, and they were having just as much fun as I was drinking the water that fell down on us. The light breeze made my hair blow to one side. The ground was moist, making it perfect for everything we do: eat, drink, sleep and socialize.

Grace is a second grader. She sits quietly with her hand folded in front of her and watches tv. She sees Dumbo and thinks of the stuffed elephant on her bed. She remembers her brother winning it for her at a carnival, where she got to ride a pony and eat cotton candy. A few minutes pass, and Grace has no idea what is happening around her or on the cartoon. She is not worried, because there really isn't a time that her mind is not wandering.

Surprisingly, research shows that even 15 minutes of near-total sensory deprivation can cause hallucinations on par with psychedelics. (University, 2011)”

I was surrounded by the sound of graphite moving anxiously over paper. The clamor filled my ears and collided with the dull ticking of the clock that hung over the SAT proctor’s disorderly, graying hair. There were only eighteen minutes left and I still had not written a single word. The prompt reverberated in my head like a ringing bell, but I could not form cohesive thoughts. My heart raced and my fingernails dug into the curve of my palm in panic, leaving small, pallid impressions in their wake. Pleading with myself, I considered the page that lay askew on the on the chipped desk in front of me. I wrote a desperate and painfully arbitrary sentence that I quickly erased. Nothing sounded right. I had studied and prepared for this moment with

The doctor struggled for a minute but was able to get a beat on him again. As Luke reached the water, he stopped and began writing down something on the pad of paper he took with him, he held it up in the air, then began reading aloud what was on the pad of paper, "The air is fine. I'm going to check the water now." From his viewpoint, the doctor watched in horror as the wild dogs began to zero in on Luke. Unbeknownst to Luke, he dipped not one but three Ph strips in the water. As he pulled them out the doctor could see, to his bewilderment, the strips were all light green.

I cringed, stopping halfway to my desk. Almost made it. A moment ago, when I'd peeked in through the classroom door, Mr. Lockhart had been preoccupied—completely absorbed in his book, as usual. I'd thought to sneak in without him noticing, but I should have been wiser than that. Henry Lockhart never misses a beat—no matter how faraway he may seem, his mind is always ticking. He notices every-freaking-thing.

“Everyone will hear me.” V said to me still whispering but this time even more quiet than before. I was getting worried. Maybe V wasn’t a voice after

A hallucination is a perception of having experienced something that is not actually there. Throughout the story, the narrator experiences hallucinations. He experiences mostly auditory hallucinations. The reader knows the narrator experiences auditory hallucinations when he says "I knew that sound well, too. It was the beating of the old man's heart" (Poe, 2008, p.204). Another line that proves the narrator is experiencing hallucinations is "It grew louder- louder- louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly and smiled. Was it possible they heard it not?" (Poe, 2008, p.206), showing that the sounds were not real and the only person who heard them was the narrator. Not to mention, it is physically impossible to hear another person's heartbeat without proper equipment. To add to this impossibility, it is also impossible for a dead person's heart to beat. These facts combined with the men not hearing the heartbeat prove the narrator was experiencing auditory

As I ventured inside through the entryway. This immense yard used to be quite recently included space looked well past my desires. Two little condos developed were standing confronting each other on each side, in the center was a wellspring running new water. The entire inside of the house was changed, no all the more venturing outside to get some crisp water. It make life considerably less demanding for the ladies to do their day by day shores.

Sweat saturated every crease and contour of my hands as I neared the front of the lunch line. Inch by solemn inch, I crept closer—anxiety overwhelming me. What will they think of me? Will they laugh at me? Before I could muse their possible perceptions, I found myself at the end of the line.

These hallucinations are experienced identically to normal seeing, however they are distinguishable from reality because of their content and the fact that they often appear in clearer and greater detail than Charles Bonnet patients (whose visions have been impaired or lost) would naturally see (3). These "release" hallucinations are often not reported to doctors and psychologists because the individuals experiencing them are aware that what they are seeing are hallucinations and are afraid of being judged as crazy by those people that they might tell (5).

Robust laughter and cards shuffling fills the air from the log walls, to the high beam ceiling of the crowded but cozy cabin. In the rare short moments of silence, a soft pitter-patter weeps from the rain leaking through the nose smudged windows. On the left, stands a long rustic pine table, where the kids sit playing games and making lifelong memories, and on the right, the kitchen, with little sticky fingers and big blue wide eyes peering over the counter at the goodies above. The sliding glass door screeches open, revealing the beautiful deep blue waters where the rice paddies dance in the whistling wind. Down from the deck, a small wood chip path overtaken by dandelions brighter than the sun shows the way to the bait scattered dock. On

Years later he received his bachelor’s degrees in physiology and biochemistry in 1921, he became a summer research assistant and professor J.J.R. MacLeod allocated him to work with Dr. Frederick Banting and that’s where the amazing journey began. Together they had exhilarating experiments in the summer and even convinced