Annabeth gets a phone call as she was coming home from work. “Hello‚” Annabeth said. “SHE’S GONE” cried Anthony. “What do you mean?” asked Annabeth. “ASHLYN SHE’S GONE!” cried Anthony once more. Then dead silence filled the car. “Where IS SHE”‚ “i don’t know I just got home and I see your Dad’s car leave the house”. “Dang it‚ I have something to tell you Anthony that I should have told you before.” “What is it dear‚ as Anthony trembled at his words.” “I told you my dad went to prison
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The sound of a curtain opening and the light from that cruel star that looked down from above made me become aware of a sickening fresh home smell. My fingers twitched with disgust and I forced myself to finally open my eyes. "You’re finally awake." Came a soft‚ teasing voice from next to the bed. "I was a few minutes away from holding a funeral for you." My sight was still blurry from the light and from just having woke up. I still couldn’t make out the figure of who was standing next to the window
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Play’s Exert: “Andrea?” May called out‚ peeking into the eerie dark room. The blinds had been closed‚ and the bed untouched. The only sound came from the rapid writing of Andrea. Abnormal and futile. “Andrea?” May repeated. Andrea stopped her obsessive writing and looked up. Her paper looked like wild chicken scratches. Her pencil dented by her nails. What had they wanted! Couldn’t they see how she had been writing. Writing to their father. He had lived underneath the earth’s surface but she had
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Dyler stroked the horse’s thick mane‚ using his fingers to comb out the knots in its relatively well-groomed hair. Suddenly‚ his stomach rumbled - a deep rumble‚ like that of thunder. Only from his stomach. It was time for lunch. The horse‚ as if understanding‚ snorted‚ licked his arm‚ and trotted back to the other horses‚ swishing its tail with the pleasant summer breeze. Dyler smiled and jogged back to his home. The last thing he needed was for Marie to scold him for being late. Again. But when
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As the calm sounds of the cloister bell rang through the late evening hours‚ Eric lay reclined back in a chair in one of the most secluded rooms‚ waiting in the dark with an air of desperation. Even though he had retained a slight ray of hope‚ Eric realized that there still existed the chance that he would indeed soon meet his end. While his fingers work through his blonde locks once again‚ finally he heard the distinct clipping noise approaching down the hallway; his progeny Pam had returned but
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He’s been in there for four hours!" I screamed‚ banging my hands against the door. I was tired of standing out here‚ especially with whatever he was doing‚ and I wanted answers of some kind by now. "I told you he’s like this‚" John said‚ rolling his eyes‚ though he was annoyed too. "I swear if he doesn’t open the door this second I will break this door down and barge in there myself." I fumed. "He’s not usually like this‚ though‚" John muttered. "What do you mean?" I asked. John took in a deep
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car‚ or at least a bike. Her feet ached from walking and the back of her neck prickled as someone’s gaze lingered a second too long. She took to adjusting her hair from its place bunched up on her head‚ pretending to look oblivious of the outside world. She heard someone speak louder than normal‚ but brushed it off. She paused as she came to an intersection‚ throwing only-half a glance down the road before she heard the voice again. “Excuse me?” She kept her gaze forward for a second. Then‚ she
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bitterly‚ declaring that all of Beowulf’s generosity had been wasted on them. Wiglaf then considers the state of vulnerability his people are now in. The boons that Beowulf had once brought to his people are now gone. Wiglaf’s grief turns into a whole new feeling‚ and he feels he must take action. The warriors’ heads hang low as they mourn their great loss. Their spirits are crushed by the thought of the depredations to come. What is a society without a ruler? What is land without a lord? Who are
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women he encountered and their use of drugs and alcohol. This self-indulgent and lascivious behavior lead Huxley to believe that people were starting to care more about hedonistic pleasures than relationships leading to a breakdown in society. Brave New World displayed Huxley’s displeasure with those self-medicating and displaying wanton behavior in order to escape the hardships of society. (Grigsby‚ 2009‚ para. 1-3). Huxley and his
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It was then I heard angels speaking and protecting me in blanket-like warmth. Is this real? Where is Mildred? Where is Faber? Beatty? The firemen? The Hound? A beautiful little angel approached me and said in a soft voice‚ "You are in a different world right now. Year 2000‚" then she promptly vanished in the white light. Everything was crystal clear now. I can see a city filled with tall buildings and each neighborhood has about a dozen(maybe even more!) houses lined up perfectly one by one next
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