formulated‚ grazing the grade 1 seven stripes that were sewn on. Stripes of courage‚ rank and acknowledgement. *** My father slowly wiped down the Lee-Enfield while I filled up the metal canteen. “Father‚ is it going to hurt the rabbit?” He let out a short laughter‚ finished with a smirk and a smile offering me to polish the .303 that he was wiping. “Come on son‚ if you have a mind as weak as that‚ you won’t make it past a private.” *** Taking a sip from the warm scented cup‚ the cross dangled down
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Every once in awhile I started crying then all of the sudden it stopped. After about thirty minutes of this the left and then the Metcalfs. When they all left my family came over and we all cried with each other and eventually talked about random things. “So how did it happen‚ Mom?” I asked her. Dad suddenly piped up and told me how he crashed his bike. “I was riding and I turned the corner on the trail and
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Anzlee is a sixteen year old girl with hair the color of midnight that cascades down her back. Her skin a russet‚ reddish-brown with freckles painted across her face‚ showing her liveliness‚ while on the other hand‚ her eyes posses a sense of lifelessness. She always had exceptional grades‚ but this year in high school something changed. Her motivation to try and do well in school began to fade away. Her A´s went to B´s and shortly after those B´s turned to C´s‚ she no longer cared. Anzlee began
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The first anti-hero Our story starts in an ancient village a very long time ago there lived a young man by the name of Terito‚ he was given a blessing by an ancient being of great power‚ but there was a price for the power. Terito had to give the being two things for the power. The first thing he had to give the being was his looks for which he was forever scarred on his entire head so he donned a mask. The second item was a gift and a curse he had to give the being all of his memories of
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He stands on line‚ waiting for roll call to be over. He shivers slightly‚ both from cold and from fear. He knows‚ beyond a shadow of doubt‚ that if the guards find his hidden treasure‚ that’s it. His life is over. After all‚ he’s smuggling some contraband into his barracks. And what is this item‚ a treasure to him‚ and contraband to the Germans‚ימ’’ש ? What is this that’s worth his whole life? A potato. Not even a whole one‚ but half of a potato‚ smuggled out of the kitchen. He had risked his life
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JUSTICE FOR INJUSTICE Have you ever encountered injustices? How did you faced it? In the short story‚ Truth About Sharks by Joan Bauer‚ Beth‚ faced injustice at a very young age. I believed that we all come across discrimination and unfairness‚ and we should stand and speak up for our it because we don’t want other people control our lives. In the story‚ Beth encountered injustice unexpectedly and pointlessly. She already experienced discrimination against his Uncle Al. Well‚ it does not
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that evening. Though‚ those many things were far from bland. Genevíve Luther was an actively old woman‚ with more pump to her step than your average elderly homemaker. Though her confidence was feigned‚ and quite obviously so (if you knew anything about her)‚ she still maintained
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Aaron knew that changing his statement maybe wasn’t the wisest decision but he was scared. When he first wrote his statement‚ describing that Kasim deserved everything he had coming and that he was proud of what he had done as well as enraged that Vic pulled him off the homophobe‚ the plan was to try to get the worst sentence he could imagine. After what happened with Katie‚ with punching Robert he deserved everything that was coming for him. But he was scared; who could blame him when the last time
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"Here lies the legacy of the poor‚ ungrateful savages‚" read the stone that marked the place of the unmark graves of the poor. The students have been reading books on cemeteries and graveyards‚ but the ones that peaked the student’s interests were the graveyard of the unmarked graves. Most students thought it was unkind or disrespectful towards those people to have their graves unmarked. They didn’t believe that the city or richer people could delegate if a person should have their graves marked
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knowing that you’ve had a nightmare about something‚ but not for the life of you remembering what it was. Later that morning we had buried Casper’s body in the backyard along with the remains of Midnight and Popsicle. I had said a little prayer for them even though I knew that they were never truly real. They were just vessels that Abellona had used to contain the souls of my grandmother and the other villagers. But still… something just felt wrong about leaving them there to decompose
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