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    How to kill a dream

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    holding your moms hand in the store‚ and you walk by the doors that read “EMPLOYES ONLY”‚ and remember that excitement you felt with just the thought of getting a peek behind that door? I remember the toy section of Walmart‚ running around playing with the dolls. My attention being stolen by big carts coming through big swinging black doors‚ eyes wide‚ blood boiling. Thinking this is finally my chance to see the magic behind the “EMPLOYES ONLY” doors‚ only to have my mother come and grab my little five

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    To the Lighthouse

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    actual physical domestic space of the house. The characterization of Mrs. Ramsey‚ who is identified as being the guardian‚ or the ‘angel of the house’‚ cannot be separated from the actual physical space itself. Just as the walls and doors of the house serve to keep out and protect the inhabitants from the outside world‚ Mrs. Ramsey works to create a domestic space where she can shield the people from the effects of modern life and offer a retreat into a more natural landscape. This

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    The Guard and Red Veins

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    name Yyusuk more than Devil Son so he accepted his title without contemplation or pursuit. Yyusuk sat on the floor of his cell in his preferred spot‚ his back against the icy stone wall and facing the cell door. Outside of his cell was a lone torch perched on the corridor wall facing his cell door‚ its light creeping through the metal bars and coming short of his feet by a few inches. The edges of the bar’s shadows wavered on the ground‚ mimicking the flame that fluttered with each sudden touch of

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    the carpark. They stopped when they reached a new looking dark blue Commodore. The man turned then and introduced himself. “I’m Roy Davenport. There’s been a change of plans. You will be meeting with Mr. Boas.” He nodded his head at the opposite car door. “Hop in‚ mate.” It was easy enough for Storm to convince himself everything was fine. The car was plush. Better even than Franchette’s. There was nothing threatening about the man. If he was being kidnapped‚ it was not obvious. Storm refused the offered

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    Girl Stolen

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    get kidnapped on accident. A large man so keys dangling and opened up the car door started it and drove off‚ but what he didn’t know was that Cheyenne was in the car. All he was wanting to do was jack a car like his dad told him to and go straight home. When Cheyenne heard a big thump in the car she knew that it wasn’t her step mom because her step mom opens the door slowly and says “im back” before she even shuts the door. The next thing she knew was she was driving and she was getting shook around

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    How to Survive a Night of Babysitting No matter how much a person loves kids or the money received from the job‚ babysitting for an entire night can take you to hell and back; if not done right. Babysitting is a tough job‚ and it takes a lot of effort and patience. Being prepared and doing the job right can save a lot of time and trouble. Some ways to maintain a person’s sanity and do the job correct include; being prepared beforehand‚ having a schedule‚ and making sure you have time to relax after

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    maze runner book report

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    call themselves Gladers‚ and have made a community in which each is assigned to a task belonging to different departments headed by a Keeper. The Glade is surrounded by a gigantic Maze in which mechanical creatures called Grievers roam at night. Huge doors around the Glade close at sunset. Supplies are brought to the Glade every week; whereas a new boy is sent through an elevator called the Box once every month. The day after Thomas is brought to the Glade‚ a girl is sent with a note in her hand that

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    My Home of Yesteryear

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    help but notice a high-backed rocker on one side and a bench worn smooth by age on the other. Both remind us of the many vesper hours spent here in the absence of modern-day entertainment. Turning the door knob and entering the parlor is like taking a step back in time. There is no lock on the door and no curtains on the windows‚ only shades yellowed with age‚ to be pulled down at night--as if you needed privacy out here in the boondocks. Dad’s big over-stuffed armchair is set beside the well-stocked

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    Double Dog Dare Short Story

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    Candyman. Candyman. The sound of my friends giggling on the other side of the door mingled with the sound of my own harsh breathing. My hands trembled and my heart throbbed in my chest. Once more and I would die. He would come with blood trickling from his hook and a condescending smile adorning his face. I wanted to vomit and pass out all at once. Taunts soon intermingled with the sound of giggling seeping through the door from the hallway. The longer I remained in the bathroom the more they egged

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    The art of dirty deeds

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    too well she was there as he cowered under the table. The rain continued to pound down‚ its staccato beat all too loud through the broken windows. Lightning flashed as he made a break for the door that was banging against the wall in the wind. An inhuman shriek came from behind him. He raced through the door as the table he had been taking refuge hurtled after him into the doorway in a shower of plaster and splinters. The main hallway he was now in was dominated by a huge glittering chandelier. He

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