the scene‚ it is clear that Gertie is afraid of E.T and thus it can be implied that she is trying to scream to alert her mother about what is going on. In actuality‚ seconds before this scene‚ Gertie does in fact scream for a quick burst of a second‚ yet is stopped because Michael covers her mouth. Therefore‚ it is apparent that like any other young child who is frighten‚ that she is going to scream with the full intention that her mother will hear and come to her aid. On the contrary‚ Elliot’s goal
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that I know of." The police officer called a patrol over to go and search for the person who made the scream. The patrol arrived and they went walking around‚ and then they heard it. Another scream. It was coming from above the patrol‚ just meters away from the officer‚ Mack‚ Mavis‚ and Jason. They all look up‚ and they see a mockingbird. It let out another scream. "I found where the scream was coming from‚" one of the patrol officers yelled out to them‚ "and it was a mockingbird! One question
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inspire. He had a lot of talents‚ with the world he shared He has love for our country that we truly craved. We always believe in what he thinks He change our country by his beliefs Years ago he told us to dream‚ Nothing’s wrong‚ if you wish to scream. Every struggle that he face He manage it with so much grace. We often amaze‚ with his strength He deserved more than just praised He almost had a perfect life But for the sake of us he gave his life He is Dr. Jose P. Rizal Our hero
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When most see nature‚ they think of the exterior‚ and nothing more. They don’t experience the true‚ overwhelming power of nature. Mary Oliver is not one of those people. She writes about nature as if it is a dream world where nature is an omnipotent power that controls everything. Oliver allows herself to experience nature in an intimate way. She writes about both the all-consuming terror and beauty that nature holds‚ and explains the complexity of these elements through her use of immense detail
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white with speckled with blue flowers but are now faded or stained to a yellow/brown polka dot. Every day at noon they come to wheel me down the hall to a sterile surgical room. In the room‚ they inject me with a fluorescent yellow substance. I scream and scream until my throat
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Blood. All I could remember about that incident was blood‚ death‚ and the screams; the thick metallic scent that drifted through my nose and down the streets and the death of so many people. The screams of the victims that were pleading to spare their lives‚ but the merciless killer shortens one life at a time-slowly and painfully. It only took one shot. One movement of a finger could kill you. I had experienced that. The sight of someone dressed in black-a man‚ the smell of the metal gunpowder
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I just got back from a big concert and saw someone get snagged and put into a car. I have just graduated the FBI Academy. So It was my job to now hop on this case I just saw. I take the license plate numbers and rush to my office. I show up and everyone is scrambling around trying to find some more info on the kidnapping that has just happened. I didn’t expect them to already know about it but they did so. I give them the license plate and they search it up and find the location of the car. We load
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“My house is the green one across from the field at the foot of the mountain. I’m telling you that I saw it and the next day they said old man Basil was missing. I saw it carry him up the mountainside. When I called the sheriff‚ they wouldn’t even come out and talk to me.” The elderly woman finished pumping her gas and said. “I was looking out my window this morning and I saw a monstrous looking thing going across the field carrying something‚” the elderly lady said. “You probably saw a reflection
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Edvard Munch was a Norwegian painter and printmaker in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He was born in Norway on December 12‚ 1863 and died on January 23‚ 1944. From 1892-1895 Munch resided in Berlin‚ and from 1896-1897 he resided in Paris. Over the next few years Munch continued to move around eventually settling in Norway in 1910. In the 1880’s‚ Munch created several pieces of art and continued to actively paint until the early 1920s‚ shortly before he passed away.(why stop) The artwork
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If I committed suicide would anyone care? No one seemed the hear the screams and cries before my suicide... So why do they care now? I’ve always been different and hated so why is it different now? I won’t ever understand why everyone seems to care and want me back. If it takes someone to commit suicide for you to realize your a bitch then you need to review yourself. If I committed suicide would anyone cry for me to come back. Probably not. If I went missing for a day would anyone notice. It’s alright
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