We arrived in 1905. Crowds of people left the boat‚ thunderous voices roared as we walked. We were unaware of where we were or where we were heading. As I looked towards her I saw how afraid she was and held her hand. We followed the orders that were being shouted at us and made our way to the first doctor. As he examined us‚ I could not help but wonder how many of us would have to make the journey back. How many of us had sought asylum‚ a better life‚ a new sense of safety‚ home‚ and hope. As the
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It was March‚ but still frigid in Detroit. With the humming of the heater and the strong rustic winds outside‚ it was still quiet and calm. There sat 16 year old Veronica Skyes on her bed with her laptop‚ typing away. The constant pitter patter of her delicate hands bouncing on the keys sounded relaxing. Her room was pretty clean‚ other than the pile of clothes in the corner of her closet. She had blue walls‚ and a galaxy painted on her ceiling in her bedroom. If you looked to close you’d be hypnotized
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The crowd was walking slowly towards the exit of the school. The play had just ended and there were families waiting patiently to meet up with their loved ones who participated in it. A flurry of cast members came rushing in‚ girls in bright poofy dresses and boys wearing full tuxes‚ all searching for their friends and family‚ laughing and joking excitedly. Their cheeks—even some of the boys’—were flushed and rosy from the excitement. I smiled and turned to look ahead to find that there was only
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It wouldn’t be so hard if I knew who or what I was. I wouldn’t feel so….empty. Perhaps I could even feel joy. But that shall never be. At least‚ not as I am now. My eyebrow twitched at the cliché scene before me. Not from anger but the sheer annoyance of its stupidity. Dantalion‚ my dear friend‚ had once again lost his head. It isn’t the most appealing sight to see a headless body tripping over its own feet trying to get around‚ but I suppose by now I should be used to it. “You idiot where did you
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In Act 3 of Kafka’s “The Metamorphosis”‚ Grette convincingly proposes to her parents that they need to get rid of the insect immediately for she can no longer tolerate the “endless torment at home”‚ and argues the insect itself is not Gregor because if it were‚ it would have voluntarily left long ago to spare the family from any more pain. “How can my so-called “family” argue over whether or not it’s me inside this insect’s body? The silence and sorrow they are looking at me with is hypocritical
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And after a thoughtful silence‚ I said to her‚ “Why‚ you must be tired‚ carrying all those clouds on your back!” Truthfully‚ it was a strange sight; the billowing mass of something floating above her. She hadn’t seemed to have heard me‚ so I spoke again. Music has long since been an integral part of my life. Of course‚ while it can be a cherished companion‚ it can also be a hated foe in times of frustration. But it has always been there for me: the feeling of the cello’s strings vibrating as I
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Turn the lights out. His hands roamed roughly like stone scrubbing the grub off of my mucky pigmentation every time he sight blemished spots poisoning the fineness of my aesthetic existence. Sigh. It felt great when his fingers strummed the peaks of my chest‚ hardening the mounts with his sundrenched touch‚ sending me vibrations of intensified excitement every time he stops himself from teasing the sanity away from my lucid mind. His possessive lips rolled like fire across my neck‚ down to the rise
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Him leaving was like the last note of a symphony- you knew it was ending‚ but you hoped for an encore. I flashed back to where I was earlier that evening‚ and how I longed to be there again. I remember that I was sitting in my dorm room. Dreading the homework that sat on my desk. I could feel it staring me in the face. I heard it calling my name‚ breathing down my neck to the point where I was so uncomfortable I jumped out of my chair and stormed out of the room. Slamming the door as I left‚ I grumbled
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A Change of Heart I’m hopeless. I’m completely and utterly hopeless. I have nothing to look forward to at a school. At least on the farm I had friends and a family. I had a life… largely consisting of stealing from tourists that visit the vineyard. I need to find a way to turn this car around. That’s it! I’ll tell dad that I don’t want to go. He’ll respect my decision. But if he gets mad… shoot‚ last time he pulled out the belt. No‚ I better think of a slightly less painful idea. I can make up an
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Step by wicked step‚ my boots sank further and further into the thick‚ red-tinged land as if the devil himself were dragging my body straight into the depths of hell. The rhythmic squelching stabbed through my rubber soles‚ radiating pain throughout my soul as it seared everything in its path. Squelch‚ squelch‚ squish. My tempo was interrupted by those cursed boots refusing to budge from the stubborn terrain. As if taunting me‚ the earth unhooked my feet from the damned soil and I found myself catapulted
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