Urine Trouble: A Short Story Essay

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

Leonard Mead sighed loudly again, since that was the answer the voice gave to most of his questions. Today though, something was different, he heard another voice, much more human.

At the end of the story, “Stains”, when the mother hears the telephone ring, she immediately dashes to the sound of the loud ring of the telephone and answers it. On the other end of the line, a lady from St. Andrew’s hospital informs her about her son’s critical state that he is in and her son’s need for her. Right then and there, she was already out the door. She knew that this could be the last opportunity to show her son how much she loves him and how much she wants her son to have a better life. The hospital was only a few blocks away, and so she ran as fast as she could, her heart beating loudly and her hair flying furiously in the frigid mid-February air. She finally reached the entrance of the hospital in less than ten minutes running,

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)”

Rhetorical Analysis of Oliver Sacks’ Seeing God in the Third Millennium Hallucinations can come in all shapes and sizes, occuring for many different reasons. Understandably, these experiences can become life-altering in the blink of an eye. Famed neurologist and author, Oliver Sacks, examined various cases of patients who received such hallucinations. In the article, Seeing God in the Third Millennium, he explored how the brain creates out-of-body experiences and religious epiphanies. By using his strong rhetorical prowess, Oliver Sacks successfully argued that hallucinations are not all they appear to be.

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

With these hallucinations, he not only begins to doubt what he sees and who he meets, but begins to change himself.

He experiences insanity first hand in this moment. His mind is imagining something that is not there which is a sign he is crazy. Hallucinating is not something a sane person would experience during

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.

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.

He began to put a phosaude, almost like when you're high around your parents and try to act as normal as possible. He said that the trick is to balance anxiety and ecstasy and in all honesty I had no clue to what he was trying to say. The psychedelic drugs caused his thoughts to go from normal thoughts like what he wanted to eat or buy and would quickly change to his possible enemies such as customers,children and President Ronald Reagan. Psychedelic drugs cause people to hallucinate and become in and out of consciousness. I know a few people who have

The young Cree woman, three months shy of twenty and five years past being a servant, obeyed her orders. Although life in Montreal was not easy as a Cree woman, it was manageable. She worked at a bakery, mostly as a cleaning maid, but sometimes she made bannock to sell. The pay wasn’t much, but it was enough for the bare necessities. Sure, there have been days where she went to bed hungry, but there was nowhere else she could go. Her tribe was hundreds of kilometres away and she had no survival skills to use.

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.

The day I was made was nice and sunny, probably. I wouldn’t know because the time I was in the world there was chaos. I originated in the oven of a nice house. There was a black circular object that I think was supposed to be a pizza. There wasn’t a good view of the house from the oven, so I decided to move to the rest of the kitchen. The feeling of this world was remarkable but overwhelming. I needed more. I must consume it all. I engulfed the whole kitchen, embracing the power I have over this world. This power isn’t enough though. I spread to the rest of the house, where I see a girl. She was asleep, I must not be intimidating enough. I will see her scream before the end of her lousy life. I was about to wake her, but she woke up on her