My Antonia Essay

Dark Sun He was my sun, my shining beam of light, my shining ray that warms me to an extent, that doesn’t seem achievable to man. His gentle, and sympathetic words, inspired me, and constructed me, he was perfect. My world was sparkling, and colorful, it was sugar-coated, and honey-slathered with compliments, inspiration, encouragement. I knew I could rely on him, He was, to me a soft teddy bear, you could snuggle anytime you wanted, or needed. I adored him, I cared for him, more than

allow myself to live like this. After we got home I went straight to my bed, and immediately began sobbing into the life size teddy bear, that has been stuffed in the corner of my bed for as long as I can remember. I complained about how tired I am of trying to live a happy life. I wrap my arms tighter around the giant bear, as if he may spring to life and offer me the comfort no one else cares enough to give me. I look up through my eyelashes, that are soaked with tears, and stare at the face of the

most random thing I have seem. Justin turns towards me and gives me a strange look. I now realize I have the largest smile on my face and I actually giggled a bit when she did that. “You have been staring at Bella, a lot. I really can not believe she has not noticed. Wait! Are you in love with her? Why did you have to fall for her?” I am not smiling anymore; I’m gaping and my eye are as wide as an anime charaters. “How… What… Umm… Dude… Gah! Is it that obvious?” I stammer, amazed that he knew exactly

My disastrous date I never been one to go on dates or should I be truthfully honest, no one has ever had the desire to ask me on one. However It just so happened that the man that I have been crushing on for several months now, finally had the nerve to ask me on a date for the upcoming Friday. Being a single mother it was kind of a big deal to get away and relax for the night and have a nice dinner without chasing or yelling at your four year old to sit down and eat. I was anxious yet excited at

On the first day of school, the first thing that comes to a student’s mind is what teacher they are going to have and if they are a good teacher or not. No student wants a teacher who is extremely difficult and makes the class teach themselves the material instead of teaching it to them completely. A good teacher makes their students reflect on their work and leaves time in class for discussion of thoughts and ideas the students may have about a certain topic or story. On the other hand, a bad teacher

was laughing and slurring something, her body pressed up against a storm drain. I pushed at her. My arm was numb. “What’s this?” She grinned. A new tooth was missing, right up in the front. “Same as me.” I stood. My legs were wobbly. “And look at you.” “I can take it!” She grabbed at my ankle. “Sit down with me.” “Not right now. I want a soda.” Sophie let me go. “You got a dollar?” I felt my pocket. There was a lump. “Yeah.” Sophie threw her head back and shut her eyes. “Hurry up.”

on in the hall. You are fourteen, grow up.” My parents never seem to understand my fear of the dark, and of my closet. They tell me over and over that there is nothing in that closet. They think I am too old to be afraid of something like that. When I tell them that things get changed in my room at night they never seem to believe me either. I have taken pictures of my stuff before I go to bed, and then taken pictures of it in the morning, evidence that my stuff has been moved, and they still don’t

in life is what dies inside us while we live”-Norman Cousins. I think half of me died with him too. It has been 11 years since my dad passed away. I was brainwashed when the Dedicators bought me into the city (as a refugee from the virus). They’d said I’d never get over his death, honestly I never did. He was fighting back, from what exactly I couldn’t place. I saw my face in his full of savage. He was on the ground full of agony and pain. I was weeping, crying, and begging him to come back. I

“When he told us that, his haunting eyes looking in my direction, removed all doubt about who the person selected would be.” “Remember men, being an escort is the toughest job in the military. The work you will be doing is not only to honor your buddy but the family of our fallen soldier. Sergeant Brooks

remember. This is my life and that analyzation stems from my obsession with perfection. Perfection isn’t easily attainable; to make something flawless at every angle requires a lot of time and effort which is why one cannot be perfect at everything. This idea may seem intuitive to most people, but not for me. My mind has completely expelled this principle and, instead, has fostered this ill-minded belief that everything in my life should be perfect, even if it’s something insignificant. My handwriting