Heather, a new girl, came around and was her best friend. But Heather left Melinda she learned to: move on, to accept the past, and to not let people walk all over her. After the rape Melinda had a hard time moving on from the past and everything that had happened. When Heather came into her life, and was a great step toward getting out of depression. But then on page 105 Heather says “Heather: ‘This is really awkward. I mean, how do you say something like this? No matter what . . . no, I don’t want to say that. I mean, we kind of paired up at the beginning of the year when I was new and didn’t know anyone and that was really, really sweet of you, but I think it’s time for us both to admit that we . . . just . . .are . . .very . . .different.’ She studies her no-fat yogurt. I try to think of something bitchy, something wicked and cruel. I can’t. Me: ‘You mean we’re not friends anymore?’ Heather: ‘[smiling with her mouth but not her eyes] We were never really, really friends, were we? I mean, it’s not like I ever slept over at you house or anything. We like to do different things. I have my modeling, and I like to shop . . .’ Me:’ I like to shop.’ Heather:’ You don’t like anything. You are the most depressed person I’ve ever met, and excuse me for saying this, but you are no fun to be around and I think you need professional help.’” Melinda learned to move on and accept that she wasn’t suppose to be…
In Discourse on Method by René Descartes, the author starts by expressing his methodology and thought process in the effort to determine his own existence. While the topic of this piece starts by focusing on Descartes and the truth he was searching for about his existence, it quickly turns to the topic of the truth or existence of something more perfect than himself. That more perfect example being God.…
“I’m going through hell,” she said. “Everything comes back to me as to why this has happened. I feel like it’s my fault. I’m sad but yet…
The final draft will be submitted to SafeAssign and as a print copy to me on the last day of class, December 9.…
I went to Miss Addie’s and she them covered me in makeup and gave me a wig to dress up older so that I would look just like mother. It takes three miles to get into town, but once I got to the hospital, Susie at the front desk knew it was me. Once she said my name I ran into the bathroom and stuffed my wig into my bag and washed all of the makeup of my face,…
You must discover a thesis on the good life, discussing the ways that money, work, education, and community contribute to living a good life. By “good life,” you may mean an “easy life,” a “moral life,” a “purposeful life,” and so on, so perhaps your first task will be to define what you mean by “good life.”…
“But only on one condition.” “Yeah?” “You have to talk with Janey about what happened, you can’t keep avoiding that subject,” I urged, throwing my hands in the air to show my urgency. Her face shifted into a longing expression, then distress, and then spite.…
When I was a little girl I use to always go to the park and while swinging I would imagine how much cooler it would be to live in a big city with lots of people and many things to see and experience. I never would have thought that at my age I would be sitting and relishing all the amazing times I had in my small home town. The family traditions, slow living and many childhood memories hold my heart in my hometown of Norfolk Nebraska. The boldly colored green grass, light brown cat tails lining the lake shore and fishing poles hanging off a dock all are vivid in my mind when thinking about the weekends I experienced in my adolescence.…
I was working on a school project when I got a call from my dad saying he was coming right away to come pick me up, I remember the sheathing anger I felt arguing that no he wasn’t going to pick me up that I really needed to finish this school project. I still shake my head in dismay knowing the fact I in fact didn’t need to finish the project I just wanted to hang out with my friends. I can’t pretend that I didn’t sulk my way to my dad’s waiting vehicle that I looked at him with a scowl across my face. Nor can I wipe away from my memory the words he said next “Your sister is in the hospital, she’s lost her baby and she’s asking for you.” This complete wash of emotion that came over me the shame the concern I was mortified with myself. How could I have been so mad about my importance when my sister had just faced a devastating event? Looking up and saying “Take me to her.”…
Tears were rolling down her face smearing her make-up when she said “Dad I understand why you cannot be here but are you going to keep your promise that you made to me and grandma, about you getting your degree?” I felt broken hearted inside because I was not there but for a few seconds my mind drifted off to the morning I made my mother a promise to attend college and graduate.…
Again, they all laughed and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes from their cold words. I looked at Samantha, the person I had trusted for so long and thought to be the best friend anyone could ever have, for help and comfort. Yet here she is, laughing at all the horrible things these girls said to me. The girl who was there for her when everything in her life fell apart, when her parents got divorced and her pet cat, Boo, passed away.…
It had been a crazy morning as I ran all over my house trying to find my jacket and boots. My mom had been admitted into the hospital that morning for a massive headache and all I could think about was whether or not she would be okay. I took her to the emergency room that day before so going to class was the last thing on my mind. My father and sister had agreed to stay with her till I ended class so I was more at ease knowing she wouldn’t be alone. After running all over my house looking for my things I quickly gathered myself to make my train. I finally got to Penn Station with four minutes to spare. I quickly walked to where the rest of my class was as we waited for instructions to where we would…
In elementary, I got through assignments by making my projects read like a boring fact book. This way was awesome for a high grade, not so great for writing interesting stories. The first report that I remember writing was in second grade. We had to do a project for history class about a president, complete with a two page report. We had three weeks to complete the project. I chose Thomas Jefferson as my topic. I had my poster made, with a lot of pictures and captions, done within one week of getting the project. My mom took me to the library to do some research on Thomas Jefferson. I found so much stuff. Then I sat down to write. I could not think of anything to put on the paper. The due date got closer and closer. I still had no report to turn in. Finally on the eve of the due date, I sat down and forced myself to begin writing. The day had arrived; I was presenting my project. Our teacher, Mrs. Mullins, called us up alphabetically. My last name is Hensarling, so I had to wait for a while. Finally, after what seemed like forever, it was my turn to present my project. I went to the front of the class and began presenting. Soon I was done. I turned in my poster and report on Thomas Jefferson. A few days later, Mrs. Mullins handed us our grades. I looked at mine and I got a “B”. I had never made less than an “A” before. I took it home and showed my mom. She said, “Oh,…
Once upon a time it was a sunny day, it was 6:30 my aunt and uncle woke up my cousin's ,me and my sister.We got ready to go to Flagstaff to my cousin graduation, when we finished getting ready we went to Fry's. My aunt and uncle got out of the truck and went to Fry's to get us some chips,Gatorade and cookies to eat on our way to Flagstaff.When we got done doing that we went to go put gas in my uncle's truck,we finally Head to Flagstaff.On our way to Flagstaff we almost got crashed by a man taking pictures of trees,good thing my uncle wasn't going fast or else we would of got crashed . We got there and went to Burger King and ate some pancakes for breakfast when we finished eating me and my aunt went to put on our heels .We were putting them…
I looked at Rachel for a while. I had been holding her hand since the minute she got checked into the hospital. My eyes started to become a bit salty and watery, but I held it in. It was weird seeing her in this condition. She looked terrible. She had gotten a couple of bruises on her forehead by hitting the ground as she fainted. She also had a cracked lip and a wound on the left side of her nose. I raised my head from the bed and leaned over as I closed my eyes to kiss her lips softly. “Justin?” Rachel suddenly said with the most fragile voice as I pulled myself away. “Love?!” I answered immediately. “W-w-why is my head hurting?” Rachel asked while having her eyes half open. I didn’t answer at…