A family as dysfunctional as ours‚ you must understand why being so different is so hard. Having a twin brother who is the perception of a golden child‚ and a sister‚ who is probably going to be the next Miss America‚ really makes you stand out as the ‘other’ sibling. I obviously lack the physical genetics which my brother and sister gained to my disadvantage. Being in my family is hard; not knowing which snide remark would come next towards my supposed unworthiness to sit at golden table for dinner
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Looking into the distance; there floated an insignificant‚ lonely cloud. Separated from its kind. Roosters were cooing early in the morning and her eyes came to life. Just another day. Better get ready she thought. Tired from sleep‚ Angela threw on her largest coat and searched for the door. There was a tingling sensation once she stepped in the white tiled room. At the polished sink‚ Angela reached for her worn-out toothbrush and the Colgate and paused when she caught her reflection‚ watching herself
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Creative Writing Task PROMPT: “I felt expelled and exiled” I felt expelled and exiled as they just left me there on the footpath in the chilling darkness of a Saturday night. “Get out of the car; we don’t want to be seen with you!” I can still hear those spiteful words playing over and over again in the back of my mind as I continue walking along the footpath of this unfamiliar suburb. I am completely alone with only my thoughts and the echo of my footsteps in the empty street. Upon hearing a
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Mum’s got a problem. So does Dad. It’s not my problem‚ though. At least‚ this is what I tell myself. I never got much‚ as a kid. Like toys and stuff. We couldn’t afford them. Dad couldn’t hold down a job‚ and mum spent all the cash on alcohol. I thought we were normal‚ until I started school. All the other kids had posh lunch boxes with matching lids. Inside them they had a ripe banana‚ a packet of chips‚ and a luminous brown bread sandwich with Nutella or peanut butter. Something diverse every
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It was a sleepy summer’s day and all I could think about was getting home and relaxing. The sun was gleaming down on us and glistened in our eyes as it reflected through all the droplets of water hanging off the shade cloth. The end of lunch bell finally rang and we all trudged to the lockers to get our books for fifth period. Food Technology. I only chose that subject because it was a bludge. And I guess everyone else there had the same idea as me‚ because they didn’t seem all that bright. We all
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Belonging Creative Writing Another contraction wracked my body‚ with a gush of liquid following. The unbearable pain I was experiencing and the urge to push grew stronger! As I was pulled onto the hospital bed the pain was excruciating and the paramedics rushed me into a delivery room. “Rosie‚ it’s time to push. When the next contraction hits‚ you are going to have to make the most of it‚” the doctor informed me but all I could do was nod. “One’s coming!” I screamed as the pain surged through
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Finding a sense of belonging to a place can influence an individual’s sense of acceptance within the community and culture or opposingly can enhance their sense of isolation and alienation from society.This is reflected through Raimond Gaita’s memoir Romulus My Father and Manfred Jurgensen’s poem Bonegilla 1916 through extensive literary devices.We learn individuals perceptions of place and their ability to adjust to new places governs their ability to belong and feel at home with new cultures.
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throughout her face‚ she enjoys her apples and coriander. She was really close to me until my younger brother came. I knew my life was going to drastically change having a younger sibling but I didn’t realise what it meant to have a sibling in the first place. I became fond of my baby brother before I realised it myself. I had my brother seated over my shoulder where he was able to enjoy the view. He always was overjoyed whenever I would had him over my neck. I was walking with him over my neck when the
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The dead-ended street She stood in the middle of the street‚ where the wind washed on the sighing pavement with a hollow sound at midnight. Her empty eyes saw straight through the bleary neon lights flickering on and off the street signs. She looked and saw nothing‚ gulping in cleansing‚ scouring draughts of air. Her hair whipped around her face‚ and the world was reduced to fragments and blurs‚ spots and smudges of something unreal. A train whistled through the air behind her‚ silent as a
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I am a dreamer and I dream of the world. One with secrets and lights in the shadows… my shadows‚ my secrets to keep. A calm peaceful place and yet different‚ so very different. My own small safe that holds my loves‚ desires and passions. A dark‚ clouded world with its own thoughts. Secrets are quiet and honest but most of all… hidden. I can keep one or share it. I choose to share mine‚ my haven‚ my life‚ my secret‚ to you. My secret is filled with forests that’ll listen and talk at the
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