I stared hard into the bare wall in front of me, with my body slumped in between broken chairs and tables. Millions of glass shards scatter all around me. Picking one of them up, I look into the glass shard. A scarred face woman stared back at me. Looking into her intense hollow eyes, her life began flashing back to me, like a video tape.
She had friends to support on, her parents doted on her. Life was perfect. Until a rumour surfaced in school. A rumour that took away her friends and their trust in her. It was a rumour far beyond the truth but nobody would listen to her when she tried explaining. “Slut”, “Whore”, “Dog”, names started aiming towards her. One by one, her friends turned against her, and friendship became a stranger to her. For weeks, nobody talked to her, she felt as if she was the only living soul in school. She did not feel safe in school anymore. So, she bid farewell to her school and sought safety in her parent’s arms.
However, it did not turn out to be what she had hoped. Everytime she came back home, she would be greeted by screams and cries from her parents. It was World War II all over again. She goes into her room and crawls up into the bed, wishing it would be over soon. When the mayhem and fighting finally stopped, she could hear her mother’s soft wimpers, and then a loud thud from the main door would echo throughout the house, signalling that her father had just left the house only to come back again drunk. Everyday, this cycle would repeat itself. Her only pillars of support had tumbled down onto her. She longed for a mother’s warmth, a father’s security. Then she realized, the place she grew up in had become a war zone. Now, even her own house was devoid of its safety. Desperate, she turned to artificial safety. Unreal safety. Drugs.
The Essay on House Narrator Roderick Friend
Will Lewis "The Fall of the House of Usher" The story starts out with the narrator riding up to an old and gloomy house. He stresses that the overall persona of the house is very eerie. The reason he is at this house is because he received a letter from an old friend by the name of Roderick Usher. Roderick and the narrator were intimate friend at a young age but they had not spoken to each other ...
At first, it gave her happiness, something that she have not felt for months. She found safety in them, they gave her feelings that she longed for. She felt free, free from the troubles, free from the world. It never felt enough, and she became hooked on it, taking more and more each time. However, as the saying goes: “Nothing lasts forever”. As time slipped by, it took her health and future with it. The police started taking notice of her and she panicked. She became aware that the police was going to destroy her only safety. Cold shivers, frequent blackouts, she was in no state to protect it. There was no more safety left for her in the real world. Then it dawned upon her, the only place that is safe eternally, safe from the things around her life, was Heaven.
Her life stopped there, and I was back again looking at those torpid eyes staring back at me. I tossed the glass shard away from me, gagging in horror. My friends, family, drugs killed me. Now even I became my own murder. I have started referring myself as “her”. I do not know myself anymore. I have become somebody else.
She picked up the glass shard and slowly sliced the vulnerable flesh on her wrist. The skin slowly split like an earthquake ripping a city apart . Blood gushed out of the wound, and relief overwhelmed her. She was finally free from this world eternally after much fighting. Softly she whispered,” Goodbye Jane Thompson, hello Buddha.”