Abigail could no longer take it; two months have gone by without her John. After the arrest of John Proctor‚ Abigail was left with nothing. He was the only reason she was doing all this for‚ but now soon he would be hanged. Reverend Hale already suspected of her; she would be next. In order to save herself she has to leave Salem‚ but she couldn’t go alone‚ Mercy Lewis had to go with her. Abigail convinced Mercy Lewis that if she didn’t go she would soon be arrested and hanged. Between the two of
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requirements for her class. “Monologues will be due Monday morning.” I heard Ms. White say. My nerves could not catch a break. After class‚ I went home and wrote my monologue. I did not want to present my monologue to the class. I was shy and knew no one in my class. I told myself repeatedly that I could do it. Monday morning was here before I knew it. The feeling of dread filled me‚ and I wanted to back out‚ receive my zero with pride. When I arrived at school‚ my monologue clutched firmly in my hand
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“Toadstools‚ and butterscotch!? What a horrid combination! Why on earth would anyone wish to consume that together?” I flung down the folded (crumpled) letter. The first letter I received from my dearest friend Leonora in months‚ and she talked about how she and her mentor made a new potion with toadstool and butterscotch. Disgusting. “What are ye huffin’ about now‚ child?” My short‚ round mentor shuffled past me with her arms full of some large birds that twitched unnaturally. She was the kind
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saluting enthusiastically to their red-robed leaders under the yellow star; the boat crammed with coughing throats and calloused hands; blood washed away by the rains. She talked about things I had only ever heard about from the kind of tragic monologues that hot-shot actors won Oscars for and only shed real tears for at the podium. But unlike the performers’ melodramatic shouts of magniloquent misdirected emotion and the onion tears I associated with this kind of language‚ she seemed perfectly
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Dramatic Intro Flashing lights were blinding my vision‚ and emergency sirens were screaming in my ears‚ both making it hard to process the situation I was in. I looked around praying to find something familiar that could possibly give me guess as to what was happening‚ but was interrupted by sharp creaking of a metal door‚ which robbed my attention. I looked towards the direction the sound was coming from and was shocked to see the face of a man‚ I tried moving but couldn’t. Confused I asked him
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The glazed tiles reflected on my tired eyes not allowing to be opened. I slowly started blinking‚ harmfully blinking my eyes to see where I am. I scrunched my eyes at the bright shining light of the operation theatre. Imagining what all I had gone through in the past hours‚ I felt relieved. Thanking god to keep me alive‚ and letting me save the lives of those innocent people who have suffered so much. The nurse approached me and inquired about my health. It was more of a routine‚ and I was dragging
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As I walked into the barbers for my weekly shave I notice the barber sharpening his razors. The colour drains from his face‚ and though I can not see it‚ I know he’s trembling. I almost laugh‚ it’s like he wants to be caught. I begin to remove my belt‚ as it holds my gun and my cartridges‚ the weapon that killed his allies‚ and notice him eyeing it nervously. I stop myself from smiling as I hang it onto the hook in the wardrobe and rest my hat on top. As usual‚ I hung up my bullet studded belt‚
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PROLOGUE PROLOGUE Only fools became starfighter pilots‚ and my mother was one of them. It is dumb to put yourself at so much risk‚ because you may end up as a flaming fireball through space. Like my mother. You would never know if the Sinats would attack‚ or ambush‚ or raid. My point is‚ piloting a starfighter is very‚ very dangerous. And of course‚ my mother happened to be one of them; a flying‚ dangerous maniac. By my fathers definition‚ she was extra stupid‚ but I always thought that flying a
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The vile odour of disinfectant permeates the air around me. My heart is racing and my trembling‚ sweaty hands cling onto my mother’s like a sloth to its branch. Gradually‚ more doctors begin to crowd around me‚ resembling vultures hovering over their prey‚ preparing to strike. The clanging of metal instruments and beeps of various machines distract me momentarily. Looking over to my left‚ I see a stout‚ middle-aged man donned in a green surgical gown. He is wearing a big‚ red foam nose and a multi-coloured
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Hello‚ I wanted to send you an email about something that was concerning to me after the game today. Kate came off the field very upset and unfortunately I had two other players with me that I was transporting home so I didn’t get much of a chance to discuss this with her until tonight. She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong right away‚ but one of the other players told me she was upset because her coach said there were three players that didn’t hustle and just stood there during the game today. Now
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