It’s been three years since Eris’s death and Leda has been becoming a severe drug addict. Addicted to hardcore drugs‚ harder than before. She uses these days to cover up her feelings. The truth is that Leda did drugs to forget what she did. There was only one thing on her mind. All Leda could only think about Eris’ eyes‚ full of hatred. Her lips in a perfect circle‚ screaming. Eris’ body was strangely limp‚ almost like she had died before she had reached the bottom. Who would blame Eris for dying
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Creative Writing He had stood that day‚ the world’s foremost spokesman of popular government‚ saying that democracy was yet worth fighting for… He incarnated the assurances and pretenses of popular government‚ implied that if could and might perish from the earth… He did not assume that the drafted soldiers‚ substitutes‚ and bounty – paid privates had died willingly under Lee’ shot and shell‚ in deliberate consecration of themselves to the Union cause. His cadences sang the ancient song that
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help me. After people watching for what seemed forever‚ the families started to disperse. The sun had gone down and the world around me was darkening by the seconds. I managed to find a long bench to rest on‚ it wasn’t very comfortable. The hard wood hurt my back and a few splinters caught on my skin. It wasn’t much but it was all I had for now. *** The next day I had school. My uniform was all crumpled and dirty from being stuffed in my bag all night. Despite it being only one night my hair was
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Don´t cut on the lights My nose was filled with the scent of old people and medicine as I roamed the hospital halls. I was searching for my brother. I looked around the long narrow hallway trying to find my brother’s room. I looked into the room closest to to me. I grabbed the paper file beside the door and opened it. “Nope not his.” I stated. I went to another door. There was no file. The room must have been empty. I had checked a few more rooms in this hallway. “If he’s not in this hallway‚ he
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Once there was a girl. A girl that didn’t think she ever mattered. Sure‚ she had good parents and decent grades‚ but she never thought herself to be worth anymore than a plastic wrap on the ground. The girl isolated herself whenever she could‚ only speaking when it was required by her teachers. Even so‚ half the grade thought she was mute. She learned a fair amount of sign language to encourage the rumor‚ just so that more people would leave her alone. If anyone had truly paid attention to her
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The crack of gunfire in the defining darkness drew him from his sleep. He silently awakened his raw-boned family. Sitting up and listening to the pandemonium which lay outside of the windowless skyscraper. The fire danced around creating demonic shadows upon the walls and across their gaunt faces. The man held his wife’s only hand as they rolled back to their sleep. The lemon soured light beamed throughout the city resting like a gargantuan beast‚ overpowering the horizon. The Dilapidated buildings
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Diagnostic Essay There was a time that I loved creative writing‚ and even one day‚ with the insistence of my mother‚ planned to write my memoirs. In the inscription in my Webster’s Dictionary that I received in my 10th year‚ my grandfather wrote‚ “3-16-94 this book is dedicated to Anna and her hope to become famous as a writer.” I loved everything about writing: the word play‚ the endless possibilities‚ the absolute creative freedom‚ the thrill of making others feel. I not only took my characters
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He had found the poor lab in an alleyway with bruises up and down its body. But it had love in its eyes‚ he thought. The Pit Bull had no empathy. That was the difference between them. It had begun moving slowly at the tent. The boy quickly bit off a piece of duct tape and wrapped his dog’s wound. It would take both of them. The menacing terrier
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“Come here!” I urged “I can’t!” He sobbed‚ holding his wound. He slid to the ground‚ groaning. I clumsily loped my way over to him and grabbed his ankles. I turned and started dragging him to the tent‚ digging my feet into the ground. A lioness’s strength poured through me. Adrenaline surged through my blood‚ giving me the power I needed to carry a 180 pound man (with gear on). I reached the tent‚ a mere 20 or so feet away. I bent down and lifted him slowly onto a low table‚ about two feet off
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The pyshcologist wasn’t certain to expect what type of Emily Harris would walk through the door. His practice usually consisted of adults‚ and he was practically experienced‚ with the teenage mind‚ particuarly since he and his wife‚ Grace.‚ had put aside plans to have children of their own‚ to forge ahead with their careers. Enough to make him one of the most prominent psychologists in the city‚ and her‚ a senior marketing executive for an international publishing company‚ a position her Father‚
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