Mute “Deeeeeeeep” The heart minder screamed letting me know that cancer was winning “DOCTOR” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I took one last gazes into my sister’s eyes as the nurse pushed me out the room and all I witness was defeat and surrender. “ Myasia I’m sorry‚ I love you” she battled to pronounce. “ Taj don’t talk like that‚ I’m not letting you go… I can’t” I replied bursting into tears and pushing through the nurse into my sister’s arms . “Myasia listen‚ y-you can never t-talk…”
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Though scorching‚ her hands did not react‚ the skull of her mate‚ her lover‚ her friend in life. His hand reached into the wicker basket removed two large red stones‚ placed a stone in each of the skull’s eye sockets. They began to glow‚ intensifying until they became fiery red staring into her eyes and soul. She breathes in the fragrance of incense and that of the cauldron’s brew‚ most pleasurable among fragrances her mate’s blood covering her body in its most natural state. She brought it to her
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David: Welcome Thomas‚ we are very glad you came. Thomas: Thanks! I am happy to be here. David: We invited you here to ask you questions about your last several weeks during the trials. These trials must had been very hard on you and your friends. Thomas: Yes‚ those weeks were the hardest times of my life‚ and the only ones I can remember. David: Why is that? Thomas: When WICKED first gathered all of their test subjects‚ they erased most of our memories. We could remember the names of objects
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JORGE One night in Jamaica‚ a warm breeze rustled the trees‚ they seemed to whisper to him. As night fell‚ he watched the sun set and tried to count the stars. Jorge sat watching as the stars appeared in the sky. He couldn’t count‚ so high and decided and closed his eyes. Jorge leaned his head back into his palms and sighed. He was sprawled out on the cool grass. He patted his dog beside him. It would soon be time for dinner and he must go in and help his grandmother prepare the family meal
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1. Introduction "Lies‚ damned lies‚ and statistics" is a phrase describing the persuasive power of numbers‚ particularly the use of statistics to bolster weak arguments. It is also sometimes colloquially used to doubt statistics used to prove an opponent’s point. The term was popularised in the United States by Mark Twain (among others)‚ who attributed it to the 19th-century British Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli (1804–1881): "There are three kinds of lies: lies‚ damned lies‚ and statistics."
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Throughout the story Annemarie is lied to by her family and friends. Annemarie soon figures out that she is being lied to numerous of times. She does not like to be lied to but she starts to understand why. The lies that affected the truth on her story‚ her relationship to the adults in her life‚ and her journey from girlhood to womanhood. The lies and truth of Annemarie’s story. Annemarie is lied to about the casket that has great Aunt Birte in it. She soon realizes that it is a lie because no one
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My life begins here in Brownsville‚ Texas. However‚ I was only there from the beginning when I was a newborn before going back to Matamoros‚ Tamaulipas where my family had their own house. My mom wanted to have me in the U.S. because people had told her that there were far more opportunities over here. Technically‚ these two cities have become my two homes. I do miss Matamoros‚ Tamaulipas because that’s where I spend most of my childhood until I was seven years old. Then we had to return back to
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‘twas the night before hike-mas. I had begrudgingly agreed to go to bed before 10‚ even though I insisted that I could stay up later and still be okay in the morning. I was all packed. I had packed plenty of water‚ water‚ water‚ and even more water. I had snacks. I had lots of sunscreen on‚ and lots of sunscreen in my backpack‚ although there’s only so much sunscreen can do. I had anxiety about a couple of things. One of those things was my fear of snakes‚ and the other was my fear of heights. I
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The graveyard was dark and shadowed; tulips lined the cobblestone pathway that led to the mausoleum‚ looming darkly against the feeble moon. I strode through the graveyard‚ glancing nervously around at the shadows that lay thick upon the graves like a shroud. Tulips‚ protruding like withered stakes from the ground‚ lined the pathway‚ and I could smell their sickly-sweet odor as I approached the mausoleum‚ looming above me like a forbidding monument to the feeble moon above. “Rachel!” I cried out
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For the sake of anonymity I’ll keep some names private‚ and call myself Beowulf. My story happened around two years ago‚ I was 26 years old when my family and I had noticed that my grandmother was starting to forget our names‚ couldn’t recall certain events‚ and at times seemed in a daze and lost from her state of mind‚ completely forgetting where she was in that moment. This was followed by her stumbling around the house and falling a few times. One time it got to the point where she fell down
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