...“Guys, we have some news! We’re moving!” Called my dad. So this must’ve been what they were murmuring about the night before, I thought to myself. But I still didn’t understand why they wanted to move, in Minnesota we had easy access to shopping, and we lived right by our family. My brother was only 4, and my sister was 2. They didn’t understand what was going on, and right then, I wished I was their age. It would be less upsetting. The next few months were a blur of packing and final goodbyes. When it came time to leave Minnesota, we all piled onto the minivan with my grandma sobbing and talking to my mom through the window, even though she was coming to Jackson with us for at least a week. I waved goodbye to my best friend Diana as we drove...
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...Unspoken Pretend you were stuck between a wall of glass and the two people you value the most. Now, imagine that the only way to remove the wall was to pick one of the two and replace them with a total stranger. I was stuck between a wall and my parents, except one of them volunteered to be replaced. It didn't come as a surprise to me when this happened. There were five years in advance that showed the future and how it would end. This was one of the many moments where i was looking at the two people who raised me, but this time they were unrecognizable. Most adults with children argue behind closed doors to avoid the kids from hearing things they shouldn’t, but then there were my parents. The one story house on Aransas Pass that was once filled with laughter while the sun was at its highest, went dark with screams of anger and painful cries of infidelity. My parents without a doubt were happy for a good fifteen years, but somewhere in between then and now things went sour. My father started coming home in the early morning hours and would come home under the influence which made you question, how the hell did he drive home? The nights became more consistent, they turned into night after night and he came home later and later. Soon it became him not coming home at all. There was a day when my dad didn’t come home for two days, of course my mother freaked out because who wouldn’t. Her husband practically went missing and she couldn’t get ahold of him, she contacted his parents...
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...I was 10 years old, I had a very normal calm life in my home country India. I was extremely sociable and had a lot of friends. At the age of 11, all of this changed when my parents decided to move to the U.S. At first I was excited, I’ve watched numerous amounts of Hollywood movies during my childhood. Of course, I had no idea about what they were saying but the people depicted always seemed happy. Then as time went by the day came, the actual move from across the sea was about to take place in a few days. As I thought about how life was going be after the move I finally had a reality check. For so long I was daydreaming every day about the pros of moving but I finally started thinking about all the cons. First and foremost the most important thing that is essential for all humans is the ability to be able to communicate, I realized that I would not be so great at that since I didn't really practice English at my home country....
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...Kazakhstan pertained to the Soviet Union at the moment of my conception. My father was a Cuban exchange student finishing Geology, and my mother, a Russian-Greek descendant graduated from metallurgical engineering. Around eighteen months old, I visited Cuba to meet my parental family. After returning to Kazakhstan and living there for almost four years, I went back to Cuba and never saw my country of origin again; however, for the first time, we lived all together as a real family. After Soviet Union’s collapsing and the end of its assistance program, living in Cuba became unbearable. It was not only due to the economic constraints, but also the country’s social deterioration. Thus, we decided to emigrate again, but this time to Greece. To avoid suspicion, my father departed first in 1992, the following year I did; however, my mother was intercepted in her attempt to escape by the Cuban authorities. It was not until 1995 that she was able to finally leave Cuba. The moment of my departure was the last time I saw my mother in many years and this incident destroyed my parents’ marriage. Before immigrating to Greece, I flew to Russia in order to obtain Greek’s tourist visa. I spent one week in Moscow with my uncle and when my documents were available, I could finally fly and reunite with my father. After living in Greece for one year and not obtaining legal residency status, my father decided to try fortune in another country: the US. Leaving Greece was easy, but when we reached...
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...Chapter Two On the move My elementary school life was not enjoyable. I was always moving because of things like getting evicted. I had attended all but one elementary school here, that being Jefferson. I had even went to one in Arkansas. I didn't even go to that one for two months before I moved back here. Let's begin at kindergarten. I didn't go to it too often. My parents didn't care enough to make me go. I think I showed up for about 80 days out of the school year. I didn't bother me at all, I just say it as a free daycare. The days I did go was ok. I didn't like the whole learning idea. I somehow didn't get held back. This is the only grade I had stayed in one school. I did move houses a few times but never had to move schools. First...
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...the sky, basking in the bright afternoon sun. I slowly reached up and slid the round window cover open, letting the intense sunlight in and watching the vast ocean expand below. I squirmed with anticipation in my seat and excitedly glanced around the plane cabin. Traveling to this new world seemed like a fascinating adventure to my five-year old mind. I stared in utter amazement through the window as the sun set with a faint scarlet glow; light shimmering off the clouds and waves below. I longed to see the shores of America peak over the horizon. As my initial excitement gave way to exhaustion, I quietly drifted off to sleep, dreaming of a new and exhilarating life in the United States. Initially, I did not realize the consequences of moving to a foreign country. Once I stepped off the plane, I heard people around me speaking the equivalent of gibberish. Unsurprisingly, communication ended up being the first issue with immigrating to the United States. Being shunned as a result of not being able to communicate was part of every day at school. Alone and friendless, I spent many afternoons in a corner of the playground watching the other children play. Because I had no friends, recess became...
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...His breathing becomes heavy and sweats flowing down his face. The forbidden act of breeding his mother, gives him an adrenaline through his veins. "I'm going to come soon mom, where do you want my seeds!" Martha's vagina gush out on David's cock. "In my pussy sweetie, fuck me harderrrr! Ughh...Who gives a fuck about the consequences, just impregnate me!" David is shock by the words coming from his mother's mouth. She's always been modest, but now she's just a horny, sex crazed, careless slut. David rapidly penetrated her more forcefully. The sexual sensation he's been building up with his mother for the last 30 minutes -drive him wild. His cock ejaculated it potent seed like a slingshot -deep within his mother's uterus. Martha roll her eyes backwards and moan. She can feel the warmness of her son's seeds blasting deep in her cervix. Her body shiver tremulously, as her son flood her cunt to the brim. David collapse on his mother's chest and Martha realize the situation she's in. "Oh my god, I can't believe I agree to let you fill me up so carelessly...
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...kicking you out of the motel. Having a stable life with my parents was unheard of; until my mother passed that my brother and I moved with my older sister. Once I moved with my sister it was like a whole new world. The change to a stable environment transformed my life. Most children would brag about their parents’ great job and how they would get whatever they pleased. I was nowhere near proud of their occupation. My mother and father would go around Miami knocking down coconuts from trees and selling them to shops illegally. The money they’d receive would be spent on drugs. Not having enough money to maintain an apartment; we would usually stay in motels. Every night I’d pray to god to make sure my mom won’t get beat so we would not have to call the cops again. My mother getting beat wasn’t anything new, until one night that we left to my grandmother’s house after the beating that we last saw my father. My mother kept her breast cancer a secret, it had spread to the rest of her body; she dead two years after she got diagnosed....
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...Three years ago I left my home and came to the US following the dream of better education. At that time I just turned eighteen and had no experience in travelling, my English was undeveloped, and I was very limited in finances. Although I had doubts about starting a new life alone in a foreign country, I persevered and decided to surpass my limits. My primal reason of travelling across the ocean was to rediscover American culture, avoiding stereotypes I grew up on, and to search for opportunities. While working hard all summer long for sixty hours a week, I made time to travel, meet people, and got to know the community. One day my American friend brought me to the local community college in Manteo, North Carolina. I passed all the tests and...
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...anyone, nor do they remember me. I’ve developed anxiety and an exaggerated fear of death. I cry in bathroom stalls and forget to pay attention in class. I meet my best friend. My mom gets sick. She spends her days in and out of hospitals, vomiting and crying. I spend mine waking up for school. I’m fifteen years old when I call 911 for the first time. I finish my freshman year happy, despite my mom’s health, because my best friend is someone who has changed my life. We start sophomore year together and it feels like we’re on top of the world. We attend our first school dance. A month later, I move. I finish sophomore year alone and angry at the world. I refuse to participate; my mom is still sick, and I spend most of my time worried about her life. Over the summer, I watch as she deteriorates. Junior year, I meet an English teacher that changes the way I think. He forces me to recognize my faults but does not rush me to fix them. I become more interested in literature than ever, I begin to fight through my anxiety, and I yearn to improve. I begin to trust my peers. I forgive the world. I move. As I’m writing this, I am seventeen years old and a senior. I’m getting ready to graduate with my best friend. I’ve spent my life jumping from county to county, house to apartment, and getting ready for Christmas alone. I have witnessed abuse and experienced life with only enough money for one more night in a hotel room. I have learned from this life: I have learned to work hard...
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...Life is all about learning. Learning from your mistakes, failures, or even successes. AVOID SENTENCE FRAGMENTS. You don't just learn from your own experiences though, AVOID COMMA-SPLICE RUN-ON SENTENCES you learn from those around you. The biggest challenge in my life was when my parents got divorced. Being only five at the time I didn't exactly grasp what was going on or why. One day my dad just moved out and didn't come back. There was no big family meeting to discuss what was happening or what the future held. All I knew is that suddenly I went from seeing my father everyday to seeing him for an hour or two sporadically throughout the month. My parents separating hit me hard but it hit my older brother much harder. He was thirteen when my dad left so he...
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...What is the essence of public narrative and what are its key characteristics? Human beings are storytelling creatures. Everyday, we make sense of the world and the things that happen to us by constructing narratives to explain and interpret these events to other people. However, public narratives are not just banal stories, they are compelling stories that can move others to act in a positive and hopeful way. Indeed, narrative stories are essential in teaching us how to act in the right way. They are not just examples or illustrations. Narratives are a way to learn how we interact with each other about values, how we share experiences, how we counsel each other, how we comfort each other, and how we inspire each other to action. In essence,...
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...Feelings of shock and awareness are created by the lack of detail present. The author uses the activity around the boy to exemplify and focus on the silence in the boy’s head. Choy uses tone, imagery and the narrative first person to convey the context and feelings of the narrative voice. A sense of distance and detachment from surrounding is established in the first paragraph with the sound of ‘footsteps’ and ‘voices.’ Nevertheless loud auditory imagery such as ‘a chair fell,’ ‘the curtains whipping,’ and ‘snapping’ illustrates the sense of an echo in the boy’s head. It conveys that everything affects him more, and that his senses are more vulnerable. This, therefore establishing that he has gone through some sort of trauma. The actions in first paragraph like ‘kept calling, rush, whip, shuddered and hesitated for a second’ are extremely quick. This is contrasting to the slow movements like ‘pull and clung’ in the second paragraph therefore illustrating the way time felt slower to the boy and the way the world spun around him. The shock he feels, is therefore highlighted. The quick movements in the first paragraph could also portray the urgency of the situation. ‘Rigid arms’ and ‘mommy’s head move’ are the first time that the reader is given some clue about the mother’s death. The rigid arms indicate lifelessness, while ‘mommy’s head move’ portrays lack of control, for the mother and the child. The realization of her death only dawns on the boy with ‘would never...
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...The Ingenuity of Narrative in Memento Abstract: Narration, simply put, is telling stories. However, the way movies narrate tales is not like that of novels developing plot in words or drama unfolding in stage space, but has its own special method for narrative - moving images. In Memento, through its unique nonlinear narrative structure and intense structure contradiction, the motifs of memory, self-deception and revenge and the philosophical exploration of existential angst are demonstrated in an elaborate and subtle way. Key Words: Memento narrative structure narrative contradiction Memento recounts the story of Leonard Shelby, a man with anterograde amnesia, who distorts his own memory to deny the harsh reality in a both conscious and unconscious way. Living in a world full of lies fabricated by himself, the ill-fated protagonist makes the very principle of his life consist in the pursuit and systematic exercise of the revenge for his wife’s death which is actually caused by himself. In Memento, the splendid way of narration gives audience not only indelible psychological experience, but also a test on their ratiocination. Below is the analysis of narrative advantages in Memento from aspects of narrative structure and narrative impetus, compared with novels and dramas. I．Narrative Structure Narrative structure is the structural framework that underlies the order and manner in which a narrative is presented to a reader, listener, or viewer. Compared...
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...Nestled among the poignant narratives and lofty philosophical discussions in Augustine's Confessions lies a treasure of theological truths and propositions. Indeed, in Augustine's monumental and crowning work, he fuses both personal anecdotes and rational paradigms to formulate masterful theological doctrines, which have vastly influenced the Christian church for well over a millennium. Thus, for Augustine, a solid philosophical framework forms the basis of theology, which individual experience thence enhances and augments. Augustine's discussion of the Holy Spirit throughout the Confessions clearly demonstrates this intricate interplay. Any analysis of the Holy Spirit in Augustine's works cannot be complete without first embarking on...
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