ears‚ louder than my footsteps against the marble floor. I paused at the doorway‚ letting my eyes roam the room before anyone noticed my appearance. One last time‚ my unsteady hands quickly ran down my thighs through my faded light blue jeans. As the door stood towering above me‚ I let out a shaky breath‚ closing my eyes. I grasped the doorknob‚ the cold metal sending a shiver up my already quivering arm. I
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Chapter One February 23‚ 1843‚ 10 years before the events of An Immigrant American. Suddenly‚ the door of the carriage flung open‚ as it pulled up to the doors of the Mannheim Palace on an early and cold February morning in 1843. “Karolina‚ I am so glad you are here!” The young woman said frantically as she burst into tears. “I thought you would never get here.” “I don’t know what to do with my hair‚ and my mother needs help with the wedding preparations‚ and they will be here any moment”. She continued
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matter what. Kenan behind closed doors turns into a scared little boy. Kenan goes to get water every four day down at the brewery for his family‚ and neighbor Mrs. Ristovski. Mrs. Ristovski is really old so she can’t get the water herself‚ there is no other man in her life‚ except Kenan. He tries to act like everything is normal around his wife‚ but they both know it’s not what it once was. He’s a strong‚ self assured guy around his children‚ but when he closes the door he weeps and weeps. Kenan shows
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identifying any other smells in the atmosphere. There is no a single beam of light in the room which made me feel uncomfortable and uneasy. Cling… Cling… I heard the sound of the turning door knob‚ I wanted to leave this unfamiliar area but some rusty iron bar surrounding me stopped me from moving an inch further. The door opened‚ a dark shadow came in‚ approaching to me. “Wow‚ undoubtedly this is Ethan’s precious baby‚ look at you‚ how soft‚ how clean‚ how fluffy. I bet that the money you used in
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Looking up at the faded‚creaking sign that said “Expert Fortune Teller‚ Miss Travis”‚ a shiver ran down my spine. I shifted my glance to the chipped caravan door. I lifted my clammy‚ cold hand and screwed up all my courage‚ and knocked three times. The door squeaked slowly open. A croaking voice said‚ “Welcome‚ please come in and sit in this chair.” The air inside the caravan was damp. The flickering candle on the table lit up the room eerily. Miss Travis wore a long dress‚ with coins and bangles
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House is about a ghost couple‚ male and female‚ who go around in a house that was once theirs. The reason for being in the house is that they are searching for buried treasure. ”Whatever our you woke‚ there was a door shutting” (Woolf 41). The person that occupies the house hears the doors and windows opening and shutting‚ being well aware of the fact that there are ghost in the house but she is not scared of the ghosts causing harm to her. The ghosts fear that the couple now living in the house might
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Hopes and Dreams in America The United States of America is also known as the “land of opportunity‚” where hundreds of immigrants arrive pocket-full of hope for a better future. Many come chasing after dreams and looking for success. They arrive imagining a life where they can provide for their families and themselves. What many foreigners don’t realize‚ however‚ is that the “land of opportunity” comes with a very hard-to-see asterisk; the land of opportunity* does not always guarantee success‚
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Amber Johnson Josette Arvizu Writing 101 Narrative Essay 12 September 2009 First Days At Boarding School This was the fist time I flew in a plane and I was so sure I was going to die. I imagined the planes engines suddenly breaking down and then slowly we plummeted down to certain death. “Excuse me miss‚ would you like something to drink?” the flight attendant asked me. I must have looked worse then I thought because she said it in a calm soothing way sort of like she was trying to talk someone
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9/13/10 In David Sedaris’ “Plague of Tics” readers learn quickly about Sedaris’ OCD behaviors and how they affect not only himself but also the others around him. I have certain compassion towards Sedaris as I learned through the “Plague of Tics” we shared a connection relating between our views and past events. His family is clearly used to the odd behaviors but rather than being worried they tease him and think the tics are voluntarily practiced. Due to his unique routines annually his teachers
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A guard with an unfamiliar face approached our door. “You are going to take a shower now‚” the guard snared from the doorway of our barrack. We shuffled out from our bunks and moved out the door. The soldier strutted with pride in front of us‚ as if he was proud of what he was doing. The now familiar stench of burning flesh stung my nostrils. I watched my bare feet navigate
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