He’d never felt so alive. The dance studio that he’d spent most of his time in as a wide eyed five year old in his first pair of tap shoes was akin to his home. In fact‚ it felt more like home than his actual home‚ where his dad often teased him about his ’prancing around the stage like a bloody pony’ but he knew that his dad preferred him doing this - his passion - than on the streets at ten o’clock at night smoking glue or sniffing weed. He’d never try those. For one‚ his mother would probably
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The opportunity was an open door to human trafficking and a closed one to any reality she had before entering this world. Angela’s story may be as tragic as it gets‚ but it’s more than that. Her constitutional right was ripped away from her hands when she was forced to work for a family that neglected her basic needs for living. Many people couldn’t imagine a world that does not implement
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up against my head and said‚ "Go to the bank and give me all of your money!" Harry forced me into my own car and made me drive to the closest bank. After we emptied my bank account I drove back to my house. When we arrived at my house‚ there was a short stubby man named George waiting on my porch. Harry called George the previous night because he needed a place to stay. George was furious with Harry for calling him during the night. Harry tried to calm George down‚ by giving him some of my money for
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new wood fills the room.After that was over with my class mates where eager to take their picture. Memories are great even though they can be embarrassing and weird but savor the moments.Because you are going to look back and love that you wrote stories on your memories .So you can show other people and be like that was me when i was a youngin
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minutes reaffirmed their belief in his kindness and courage. And they are committed to making sure his life‚ and death‚ were not in vain. Jeff Crowther hopes his son’s story will inspire people to become a volunteer firefighter‚ to give money to the homeless every day like Welles did‚ to set goals and follow through. "If Welles’ story helps people to think of others then God bless them‚ God bless him‚" said his father. "He didn’t live long enough to be head of a corporation or do good works or endow
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There is a budding story that is slowly growing right now as the 2015 NBA Draft draws near. And its main protagonist is a guy named Kristaps Porziņģis. Kristaps Porziņģis who? Porziņģis is a 7-foot-1 center-forward from Latvia who has good length and athleticism‚ runs the floor‚ protects the rim with his long arms and quick lateral movement‚ and finishes strong above the rim. To exaggerate‚ he has the speed and agility of a rookie Kevin Garnett and the outside shooting touch of a young Dirk Nowitzki
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Lannon was a 13-year old boy who had an awesome life. When he was born‚ the doctors had said‚ “Mr. and Mrs. Jenson‚ you have a perfect son living with you now!” Lannon was the perfect weight and size‚ he had lots of hair already‚ and he wasn’t a very fussy baby. Lannon’s parents were wealthy lawyers. They had won almost every single case that they were ever hired for‚ and they had gotten hired for a lot. Lannon had tried to keep track once‚ and the numbers grew to over two hundred in one year
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ours for the taking. He was the one person I could talk without being judged. I was definitely the adventurous type and when I would decide it was time for an adventure. I would never forget to have my comrade by my side. PLOT Exposition: This story was some of the best times during the first five years of my life. It took place at the first place I ever called home. There I lived with my aunt‚ my uncle‚ and their child. There was also my mom‚ my brother‚ me‚ and lucky. Most of mine and Lucky’s
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It was like any other day in the cave system I called home. I’d wake up in the pit us "lesser" goblins would be forced to sleep in‚ then I get to listen to our ever so charismatic chieftain scream at us incoherently‚ we would then be treated to the tremendous showing of our "mighty and brave" leader beating the snot out of the closest one of us he could get his hands on. Oh how I hated this prick‚ always keeping us down just because we were a little bit lazy and maybe‚ yeah that one time the sentries
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I’ve got to stop relating you to songs‚ And pictures that I see‚ graffiti on the wall. Although‚ you are a story and a scene that I fall into Headfirst‚ at the speed of light‚ even in the dark. There were no sirens or signs or warnings that my love would go unrequited‚ Just a lie on your tongue and a dance hidden in your eye. You wept on me and faded into the darkness And I was left to watch you go then cry. And all the while I was trying not to get stuck on you. With your cupid’s bow
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