there?” I could barely make out a whisper as I shivered. I slowly make my way deeper into the maze‚ warily watching my surroundings. My teeth clatter against each other while my limbs start turning blue-ish grey. I jolt as I hear the bloodcurdling scream once again. I start fearing for the worse‚ was it perhaps Seraphina herself? I turn the corner nervously to find a vile
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height people would make fun of him or even hurt him. Geoff was too scared to say anything so he would usually run away‚ his parents at first be around and help him‚ but when he went to school his nightmare began. In kindergarten kids would usually scream by even looking at him. In elementary school he would get bullied by the older kids and even by the teachers‚ one time the teacher even let the boys throw things at him until they saw blood. Now Geoff is in grade nine and it’s his first day of school
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thread to life is as lung-deep coughs emerge. Slipping into slumber‚ ghost smoke fills his mind. Fear-filled screams draw our story to this past. We watch as he crawls trading this horror for another. He enters a world of lost love. Gentle hands a fading memory as bruises take their place. His mind‚ drenched in the scent of alcohol‚ standing strong. Only an infant he learned to hide. Silent and scared‚ listening to the thunder on the stairs. No time to play‚ he’d clean the house. Only a house - not
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filled my ears‚ making my stomach churn with dread. My father’s grip on my arm tightened as he whispered words of encouragement to me‚ trying to keep me calm amidst the chaos. As night began to fall‚ the fighting slowly subsided‚ leaving behind a silent and surreal landscape of
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where the Montresor’s revenge will take place. Fortunato heavily intoxicated backs into the recess and Montresor chains him in and begins to wall up the recess. As the alcohol wears off Fortunato begins to moan terrified and helpless. He falls silent as the layers rise and he realizes that Montresor isn’t joking but his final plea is “For the Love of God!” Chopin’s story also talks of death but it uses
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Gravel was crunching under his feet as the wind raced past his ears‚ screams and shouts of ‘SKINNY FAT BOY’ from the people ridiculing him added more energy to his feet as he ran even faster to get away from them. Tears running down his cheeks became a part of the wind‚ his pain taking a physical form. As he was slowing down‚ the gravel underneath him started to sink slowly to the ground. He could still hear all the shouting from behind him as he was limping due to injury. As soon as he reached his
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Lauren Taibi First Paper Assignment The Notebook The movie The Notebook‚ directed by Nick Cassavetes and released on June 5th 2004‚ is a captivating love story‚ which takes place in the 1940’s. Through filmatic elements such as Cassavetes choices of cinematography‚ editing‚ narrative‚ mise en scene‚ sound and music‚ he creates an extremely believable story of two teenagers in the 1940’s who fell in love over the time span of one summer. In order to create a 1940’s vibe‚ Cassavetes wisely uses
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took Randy and Cain to the broken part of the roof. “What do you want us to do‚ jump?” Randy asked. “No‚ climb he said back. Austin slid down a pile of old roof and rocks down to the floor. Randy and Cain followed. They heard a loud‚ blood curdling scream. “What was that?” Cain asked. “Probably a coyote.” Austin
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Children are‚ by nature‚ incredibly sensitive creatures. They can sense almost any emotion an adult might feel just by observing a particular person’s body language and facial expressions. Such is the case with the youthful Pearl from the novel The Scarlet Letter‚ by Nathaniel Hawthorn. As the daughter of the adulteress Hester Prynne‚ the townspeople view Pearl as a demon in an angel’s clothing; as an imp who not only knows exactly what the letter "A" signifies on the breast of her mother‚ but as
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Dejection: An Ode By Samuel Taylor Coleridge Late‚ late yestreen I saw the new Moon‚ With the old Moon in her arms; And I fear‚ I fear‚ my Master dear! We shall have a deadly storm. (Ballad of Sir Patrick Spence) I Well! If the Bard was weather-wise‚ who made The grand old ballad of Sir Patrick Spence‚ This night‚ so tranquil now‚ will not go hence Unroused by winds‚ that ply a busier trade Than those which mould yon cloud in lazy flakes‚ Or the dull sobbing draft‚ that moans and
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