your fault. The thought bounced around in his mine The man‚ remorse and fear still running through his body‚ tried to convince himself that it was her fault‚ that that fawn wouldn’t have survived in this cold weather anyway‚ that it would’ve just frozen to death anyway. He had just made things quicker. Later that night‚ the man tossed and turned under his covers‚ unable to sleep. His stomach was uneasy and he felt sick. He saw the doe’s gaze staring into his soul‚ felt the presence of the foal‚ watching
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screaming because I was going to die in any moment. I buried my head‚ trying to to sink in the snow as much as possible. As I was praying‚ a distant voice‚ kept calling my name. It was my friend Molly‚ who was also the owner of the store. She shook my shoulders violently‚ as I was blinded by the snow. I looked up again‚ nothing had happened. Looking across‚ the pile of snow remained unharmed. Snow flurried down again. “Am I dead yet? Is this heaven or hell? How did I die? Where is the vicious men?” I screamed
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My Jr High choir teacher‚ Mrs. Bradbury‚ was the most challenging teacher I have ever had. She would never cut the choir a break‚ and never stopped pushing us to be our best; “I can’t” was not acceptable to her. I hated her with every fiber of my being‚ and every time she spoke all I wanted to do was sew her lips together. It wasn’t until the beginning of ninth grade when I realized she was amazing. Once I let my guard down‚ we instantly connected. Recognizing how much I loved to sing and becoming
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blew its brains out with the shotgun I had taken from the weapons closet. Pretty good luck for me. I ran to the door and sealed it as one slammed into it. I looked around the room and saw that it was stocked full of weapons‚ and one crate even had a shoulder mounted rocket launcher with 2 or 3 extra rockets‚ and there was an escape shuttle! He could leave right now… no. I grabbed the rocket launcher but then set it down. I would go back to the surveillance room‚ then I would gather as many survivors
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Thirty-Two Stitches “Hey what happened to your neck?” someone askes me The wheels broke every branch it had gotten in contact with. Going 60 mph‚ no helmet‚ and my hair reaching my lower back flying through the air. All came to an abrupt stop by an old‚ reddish‚ rusted barbed wired fence cutting away at my neck. I usually get asked about the three big scratches on my neck about five times a day so I remember the incident like if it was yesterday. The accident occurred when I was eleven. As a child
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feet‚ or gone to a picnic or a party‚ or talked to a girl. But he has seen the sun at midnight‚ watched the ice-jams on one of the mightiest of rivers‚ and played beneath the northern lights‚ the one white child in thousands of square miles of frozen wilderness. Walt has walked all the fourteen years of his life in sun-tanned‚ moosehide moccasins‚ and he can go to the Indian camps and "talk big" with the men‚ and trade calico and beads with them for their precious furs. He can make bread without
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life during the early part of the decade. World War II changed the world of fashion forever. Severe restrictions were imposed on the apperal industry by the government (Keogh). For men the tailored silhoutte‚ with padded shoulders and a narrow waist and hips‚ were essentially frozen until the late nineteen forties (Keogh). Women were forced to recycle there clothing‚ or hand them down to other women when the clothing was not being used for example‚ the wedding dress‚ It was a way of conserving fabrics(Thomas)
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the very beginning The wind caresses my hair around my face as I look down from the top of the swaying bridge over the Yuba River‚ ready to leap and never look back. I close my eye and feel a single hot tear slide down my goosebumped face. Everything seems to stop for just a moment‚ a single‚ beautiful moment where I feel like I can fly. Where I feel safe. Protected. But the moment always passes‚ and it flies away as quickly as it came. I turn to my mission and look down. The rushing river beckons
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for me to slow down even more the back of the truck hit the front of my car. The truck was lower than usual and the back hit the hood of my car sending my car spinning three times thereafter smacking into the barrier on the bridge. Initially‚ I was frozen in my seat thinking how fast it escalated but how slow it felt as far as spinning and hitting the
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Throughout the course of our childhood‚ we have all been told frightening stories. Whether those stories were about “The Boogey Man” or “Bloody Mary” or even an original story‚ they all served one purpose‚ to frighten us into behaving. I really wish I had listened to my mother‚ I really wish I hadn’t tried to be the moron I was‚ if only I had experienced the slightest ounce of fear to prevent me from entering the woods‚ especially at night‚ when evil is said to be at its strongest. As a child
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