I tried to open my eyes but all I could see was darkness. All around me darkness sits, still and quiet. I heard a creak, then a minuscule and weak voice talked, “Sydney, are you alright?” “Mmm” was all I could get out of my weak and tired body. Then the voice talked to me again, “Sydney, this is Dad speaking. The doctor just told me that the impact of you hitting the seat in front of you was very hard, it blinded you for life.” Darkness grabbed me, never letting me be perky and happy again…
Richard E. Miller essay “The Dark Night of the Soul” to be an interesting way to think about reading and writing in today’s world. Richard uses the violence in the world to question if our educational system is relevant to keeping us safe and whether the power literature can be used to change the tragic event that happen around us every day.…
Martin Luther King Jr. once noted, “Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable... Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle; the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals.” The effort mentioned in this quote can be seen through Arthur Koestler’s novel Darkness at Noon, in which Koestler explores the depth of the communist regime in Soviet Russia. The novel focuses on a man name Nicholas Salmanovitch Rubashov and the (Soviet) Party. Through the recollection of Rubashov’s memories as well as witnessing his experience with the terror of interrogation and imprisonment, Koestler portrays the meaning of humanity through the means of political ideologies and the sacrifices made to justify a goal. Koestler emphasis upon the suppression of individuality and humanity for the gains of political advances and its consequences depicts the offenses of extreme rational thinking. Darkness at Noon focuses on this motif as the Koestler weaves a tale of Communist Soviet Russia.…
As I leapt from the window of the dreaded vessel, I vowed I would never be privileged to see the sun as it rose anew. I thought of the past. I pictured my creator and I admired the picture of my fated self-destruction. Death did not scare me. How could it possibly when I already embodied the anatomy of a corpse so fully? Yes, this would be enough for me. To expire upon the diamond plains with the northern waves buried below me was the moonlit future I longed most for. My life had been altogether exhausted of breath and I, its humble advocate, was thoroughly depleted of any remaining will to gratify its pleas of invitation into the world that had so quickly recoiled from my hideous stature. This was to be how it ended. I had now outlasted the only identity that had ever attended to my entity at all. How could one conceivably carry on their everyday occupations without a single remaining acquaintance in the uncut span of the world? I longed for animation’s kiss of farewell as I departed forever from the hatred and confinement of this world. I advanced upwards along an icecap I had recently encountered as I continued my journey into death’s grip of acceptance. I knew full well I would not be missed. Not a soul among me had even granted me the gift or humanity of identity. I walked, nameless, among the masses of earth’s vast expanses. I was unknown, unneeded, and utterly and undeniably alone. As I neared my final resting place, a thought passed through me: What if instead of ended my existence in darkness and solitude, I exerted forth a flame to carry me on past this life? And thus was decided my fate would be that of eternal fire, for darkness was all I had ever been entreated to know of. Reaching the apex of the mountain, I removed my flint and steel from my right waistcoat pocket and struck the two together with such force that I did not know if the rocks would remain intact to themselves. When no spark ignited, I grew impatient and enraged. I must be the only being…
A mere twenty minutes later, I was exhausted. The sun had burst through the clouds and was basking the mountainside in violent light. I was roasting in the safety of my outer shell. As my once confident steps became desperate shuffles, I began to understand that my end was near. But I had a goal to achieve, and so I fought to deny what I knew to be true. Soon, I fell back and separated from the group. It was then that the guide made his move. He swooped down on me, looked me in the eye, and told me it was…
The Ghost and the Darkness is a great movie that incorporates a historic struggle with conflict between man vs. nature, and man vs. man. Col. John Patterson is presented with the task of building a bridge to expand the British railroad in Africa. He is forced into leaving his pregnant wife behind while he travels to Tsavo, Africa where he must live and work. The colonel is then faced with a struggle between man and nature where he must protect the people from lions that are invading the camp. The reoccurring theme of man vs. nature dominates the story line. A white man is brought to Africa where he must build a bridge over a river, and is then expected to keep people safe from lions in the night. The colonel kills a lion in the middle of the night, and the camp praises him for making the night safer, but little do the people know there are more lions. The lion attacks scare the people and make them weary of putting their trust in a white man. The lions end up killing thirty or so people before an expert killer, Charles Remington, is brought to aid. Charles tells the colonel, “Everybody has a plan until they’ve been hit… and you’ve been hit.” The line refers to the lions acting more like beasts then lions at all. Lions normally do not attack humans, or hunt them as prey, so why were they doing this? Remington and Patterson hunt and kill a lion, but there is still another one. After a night of celebration, Remington disappears only to be found slain by a lion. This enrages Patterson, so he hunts the lion down and kills it. This struggle of man vs. nature is prevalent in the plot of the story, and makes for a great…
“Mom, mom, mom, mom!” I was practically screaming. I already knew what she was going to say. I just sat back on the couch and watched as a tear streamed down my face into my hand. I eventually fell asleep on the couch. I woke up at three in the morning and I could see the sun peaking out with the stars and moon retreating back until another night. I don’t know what came across me but I thought to myself why people are so cruel. I looked outside to see if anyone was out there. I just saw an empty street, just like one of those old ghost towns in old western movies.…
I woke up in the hospital, the room was stuffy and the air had a undertone of bleach. Beautiful framed pieces of art hang the wall. There were vases of flowers in the room. I look around, every surface was dustless. The nurses were unhurried, they moved with a serene peacefulness from room to room on their rounds. Above the double doors were large blue plastic signs with the area of the hospital that lie ahead. I got this overwhelming feeling of wanting to cry. Brick by brick my walls were tumbling down. The feeling punched through my empty stomach ripping through my bones, guts, and muscles. I knew Ms. Anna would be upset.…
I stood hopelessly in the corner of a small, sterile room with white walls and fluorescent lights that hummed softly overhead. Here, where my older brothers Alan and Denny sat next to each other, Alan lay pale and weak in bed, looking so small and fragile, like he was just a shadow of the boy he used to be. Denny sat down beside him quietly with his thick voice filled with tears. I didn't understand what was happening, as I was young and all I know is that Alan is gone. that's what Denny told me at least before he made me leave the scary room…
And once the sun came back once again, the place I had ended up seemed familiar to me. It was where my life took place before the end of the world. I traversed through the overgrown and barren land of my city and found my old home. At first I was frightened for what I would find, unsure if I could endure the pain I would experience by facing the death bed of my parents. Though I said to myself “this will help me find myself, if I don’t face this now, it will haunt me forever.”…
It was cold snowy Saturday morning. It’s 430 in the morning, still dark outside . I hear the door knob turn then I hear a click.the door opens you can see the lights on the hallway of the house . My mom is standing there with her coffee and says,”Adam wake up, time to pray, and after…
I was led by the smoke cloud to a quaint little cottage. It did not appear to be vacant. As I was approaching the door, I noticed a faint glow in the arched window. I assumed it was candlelight. In the corner of my eye, I sensed movement. A blurry and small outline of a person topped the hill. I decided to go in to the cottage even though the movement still was etched my mind. Once in, I walked through a small sitting circle and felt warmth from the fire burning stove. Into the kitchen was a table with food. A warm and fresh prepared meal was set out for two guests. The table had turkey, peas, green beans, bread and pie. I hadn’t eaten since this morning so I decided to help myself to a plate. As I was about to take a bite of the turkey, the wood door pushed open. This sound startled me to the point of coughing. The blurred figure came through the door. It was the person I saw in field. That person was carrying a basket full of garden vegetables. When the person saw me, she asked me who I was and why I was in her house. I told her about my hunting experience and how I had walked upon the cottage. I let her know about how cold it was and that I needed a little warmth and something to eat. She didn’t feel sorry for me in the least bit. I felt extremely bad because she had made this meal for her husband and children. I gave her my regards and lots for rabbits to enjoy. I left on my horse…
I’m not sure why I even tried. I knew the sheets would smell like you, that I would feel that forever void beside me, and that no amount of tears could drown either.I honestly don’t know where to go from here. I hate myself. I hate myself for being human and powerless and I hate whatever it is that took you from my side. It’s a sad little thing, how accepting of death everyone is. Tears are shed but people heal. I won’t heal—I can’t. Because the moment I move on, I’m leaving you behind. Oh, if I could just find you, wherever you’ve gone. There is more to you than a body, I know that. There’s more to all of us. Whatever it is that made you Lizzie is still somewhere, even if in the past. I have to believe that, that entity that shone behind those green eyes is still somewhere, right now. I just wish I knew where. Whether you can see me or feel these words, I don’t know. I hope you can. I need to be near you. I feel closer to you now, in this cold bedroom in this even colder…
I faintly remember what happened that night, that’s the reason why I’m sitting here. I can’t think clearly, see straight and yet I continue to see glimpses of him, his baby blue eyes, greasy black hair and oily face that sheds a smile every so often. I didn’t mean for everything to be this way, I feel as if it’s my fault, that maybe I’m the suspect. I feel as if there’s a blunt knife digging deeper into the guilty walls of my soul. As I peer around the room, I notice one streak of sunlight, fighting for survival in the dark and dampened room.…
After serving for more than 10 years as the advice columnist for British newspaper The Observer, Mariella Frostrup let readers in on a dilemma of her own that she faces every single night.…