Guardian Angel

“A Rose for Emily” by William Faulkner is a not the kind of story one thinks it will be based on the title. While the title of this story gives off the impression that it will be a happy story, it is the complete opposite. This story is a sad and somewhat dark story about a lonely woman named Emily Grierson. Miss Emily suffers a great loss when her father passes and the house starts to become run down. She meets a man named Homer and everyone knows they are to be married. It appears to the townspeople that he has left, however, there is an unknown secret that Miss Emily hides. He is not seen again until the day the Miss Emily dies. The people of the town believe that Miss Emily had poisoned Homer with arsenic so he could never leave her. She feels that loss comes with change. She does not want to lose Homer so she does the only thing that can make him stay with her forever. She does not want things to change but to merely stay the same. It seems that Miss Emily is lost in the past. She...

First impressions are not always the best impression and people often judge a book by its cover. A good example of how people judge books by their covers is when it comes to celebrities. They are rich, they are good looking, and they seem to have everything that they can ever want. Sometimes people forget that looks can be deceiving and that money cannot buy happiness. When analyzing the narrative poem “Richard Cory” by Edward Arlington Robinson, one will notice that Robinson uses a few alliterations, an anaphora, and a metaphor to convey the theme of how appearances can be deceiving and how money cannot buy happiness. In the first quatrain the narrator is simply introducing the main character, Richard Cory. He starts by saying, “Whenever Richard Cory went down town / We people on the pavement looked at him” (Lines 1 and 2). The narrator uses this alliteration to imply that every time Richard Cory walks the streets in his town everyone, that happens to be out, just watches him. They ...

Tears are welling up in her eyes as her mom turns the car down the street and parks. It’s 5:03 A.M. and it is still very dark outside. She’s dressed in her work uniform: a green U.S. Pizza Co. shirt tucked into a pair of dark jeans with a black belt, her long, light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail on the top of her head, no makeup on her tan, freckled face, and ugly, nonslip, black shoes. Her phone buzzes and it’s a text from him, “Are you almost here?” She gets out of the 2010 red GMC Acadia, feeds the meter two quarters, and hurriedly walks toward the Marriott Hotel. She sees his tall, dark figure standing there underneath the dim street lights. The look on his face tells her that he doesn’t want this anymore than she does. He sees her and his face lights up. She sees that look quite a bit. He has such a great personality that it comes out through his facial expressions. This facial expression was the one he always used when he saw her. It was a smile from ear to ear. It was war...

When people feel threatened by you or are jealous of you, they make sure you know it. Children are mean, but it’s because of the influences around them. Their parents tell them that they are the best and when they realize that there is someone better than them they try to eliminate the competition. Even if it means making someone feel very low about themselves.

Very quietly she places the cold, black gun barrel to the back of his head and slowly whispers, “Don’t you dare move.” Ever so slowly he raises his hands to surrender. She quickly grabs his left arm and slides her police issued glock back into its holster. Then, she pulls her handcuffs out of their case and, with great force, she fastens them around his hands. She grabs both of his hands and yanks him up off of the ground. With a grin from ear-to-ear on her face she blurts out, “I got you now. Daniel Cox, you are under arrest for the murder of Emily Smith and for the rapes of Emily Smith, Katie Summers, Corissa Williams, Amy Hankins, and Ashley Sanchez.” Twenty-four hours earlier… Captain Craigan practically sprints out of his office and slams a file down on Detective Olivia Benson’s desk, waking her from a snooze. Very sleepily, she looks at her captain and says, “What is this?” Craigan replies with, “A case from the Bronx. Serial rapist who is escalating. We have our first body t...

You are the rebel because I am shy. I’m the one who has always wanted to fly. I am the brains because you are the beauty, People ask me if you’ve always been snooty. I am the pool and you are the water. I am cute, but you’ve always been hotter. You are the work, I am the test. I am the friend while you are the best. I am the ball and you are the goal. You are the TV while I am the show. I am the book, you are the words. You live wild and free, I live quiet and reserved. You don’t care but that’s alright. Because at the end of the day you know I’m right. I am the princess, you are the crown. I am the sunglasses that you always put down.

William Faulkner is a great author of his time. He wrote countless stories, most of which are published in his book Collected Stories. I have chosen three short stories of his, which I find to be outstanding, to share with you. With each of these stories I will discuss the symbols that Faulkner uses in his stories, the imagery he creates to make his stories come to life, the point of view of each story, and lastly I will give an overview of the plot. The first short story that I will discuss is “A Rose for Emily.” This short story is not what the title portrays it to be. Faulkner is already using symbols in this title. This story contains great details and images that make it such an interesting read. Faulkner always seems to leave you wanting more at the end of his stories. The title itself is a symbol. Reading the title, you might think this is a very happy story, when in fact it is the complete opposite. Emily is what we would call a black widow, even though she never marries. Why ...

She sits down at her desk on a cool November morning and opens up her journal. Keeping a journal may sound silly to some people, however, to her it is a way to express her feelings. When she opens her journal, she lands on a page she most desperately didn’t want to read. She can’t read it, as a matter of fact. For the last five months she has been trying to erase all of the memories she had during those wonderful fourteen months she spent with him. She wanted a love like Hazel and Augustus’ from “The Fault in our Stars”, and as a matter of fact, she had one similar to it. Her journal knew this better than anyone because it didn’t care how much she talked about this handsome boy. Looking at this journal entry, she automatically flashes back to the very beginning. She was sixteen and he was seventeen and they were both seniors at Benton High School. I guess you could call them high school sweethearts, even though they had only been together for a small part of their senior year. After t...

Her man fights for our country. We are aware of their commitment, and We are aware of their purpose, For these men have honor, And they have courage. She pictures him in the uniform with a black jacket and navy blue trousers. She even pictures him in his camouflage array, While she waits by the mailbox for the mail, Praying that an envelope filled with his sweet letters, Will soon be in her grasp. The fourteen hour time difference is never comfortable, it is only bearable. There are days she wants affection, there are days she wants to throw in the towel, and There are days she wants relaxation. Her mother once uneasily said, “You will worry yourself sick, my child.” A time or two she nearly did. She experiences the feeling of sadness, The feeling of abandonment, the feeling of loneliness. She lays there at night in their enormous bed all alone. Burying her face into his pillow, She can still smell his oh so familiar scent. One day she will be reunited with him again. Until the...

Beep! Beep! Beep! “Ughhhhh!” moans Kaylee as her alarm goes off. It’s the first day back to school and she is not thrilled. She rolls over to check the time. “Why does 6:30 come so early?” says Kaylee. She checks her phone and responds to only a couple messages of the dozens that she has. “I guess I had better get up. I have to go turn some heads.” Says Kaylee jokingly. She pulls a brush through her long, luscious blonde hair, picks an outfit that compliments her nice summer tan, and applies her makeup. Kaylee grabs her bag and makes her way into the kitchen. She grabs a banana and a bottle of water and makes her way to her car. As she pulls into the school parking lot she searches for Scott’s truck. It is kind of hard to miss. His 2014 Chevy Silverado has a six inch lift kit with very large tires and of course, loud pipes. Scott is definitely the best-looking guy at school. He is six foot two inches with brown hair and brown eyes. Since he is an athlete, he is also really built. She p...

She winces in pain as the makeup artist slowly brushes lip gloss onto her already pink lips. It was just ten hours earlier that she had her lip busted in the middle of a very intense soccer game. She remembers that game, and even that specific moment, very clearly. It was senior night and she couldn’t have been more thrilled. Her parents had already walked her down the field in the previous semester for band senior night. As they line up along the track at the back of the field, her heart is pounding. Could this really be her last soccer game before the state tournament? She hands her mother the flower that she was given and interlocks her arms with her parents. The announcer proclaims, “Number 10, Leigh Ann Baber. She is a three year letterman and plays center defense. She will attend Pulaski Technical College for two years and then attend Arkansas Tech University.” As they approach the middle of the field, the photographer directs them to the side so they can take a picture. After...

In the middle of my emotional breakdown today, I whipped out my bible. After a few scriptures, the tears stopped pouring and I immediately calmed down. My God is always with me. He is my Father, my Holy Spirit, my Savior. Without Him, I am nothing. One of my favorite Christian songs is "Great is Thy Faithfulness." For Christmas, my mom got me a book that explains the inspiration behind the hymn. It reminded me that God is faithful and loyal. I need to put my everything in to him, including my problems. He has to do the fighting for me. I learned that a while back after watching "War Room." It truly is a wonderful movie. My mom also got me the bible study info on "War Room." Pretty soon, me, my sister, and my fiance will be studying it. God really is great, all the time. He has the power to bring you up when you are falling. You just have to believe in Him. "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." Philippians 4:13 Remember that ...

"if my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14 I just want to start by saying, God will renew, and God will revive. I also want to remind you all that Christmas is a spiritual feeling, not just a special day of the year. We need to turn to God for everything, no matter what it is. There are four things that have to happen in order to reach Him. First, we have to humble ourselves. Second, pray. Prayer will do the world a difference. Third, seek God. You have to seek the face of God. Lastly, turn. This is the turning point that has to happen. You have to turn to God and give everything to Him. Let Him know that we need Him deeply. It takes all four steps, but this is what we need to do. We need to experience the face of God. Turn and face the cross. Turn and face Jesus Christ. Turn and face God. We can...

So, Harry Potter has been on ABC Family pretty much all day. I've been avoiding it because if I start watching it, I can't stop. Well it's literally the only thing on right now. Looks like I'll be up all night  

The young married couple sat at a medium-sized round table with a floor-length white table cloth covering it. There were two champagne glasses that were halfway filled with the bubbly substance. Two tall, white candles burned in the center of the table. She was busy staring at the menu while her husband stared at her. Every once in a while she looked up and studied the disgusted scowl he gave her. She finally closed her menu and said, “Are you really going to be mad at me forever?” “Do you not realized what you’ve done?” her husband asked. She leaned in towards the middle of the table to keep their conversation quiet. She whispers, “I never actually did anything.” “Yeah? And I’m the president of the United States.” “Would you stop?” He leaned in towards her. “No, I won’t. Do you know what it’s like getting a phone call from your best friend at two a.m. saying that he went out and saw your wife in the same place?” “I did it for us.” “How many of those ‘late nights at work’ were...

Justin’s eyes grew four times their normal size as they stare at the scratch off in his hand. He couldn’t believe it. What would he do with a million dollars? He walks back to his apartment in a daze, not talking to anyone. He doesn’t even remember turning his key in the lock. After coming back to reality, he slowly took his gray coat off and tossed it onto the ugly green couch. He took a good look around. It wasn’t a very large apartment, but it was all he and his girlfriend could afford. His kitchen was an ugly green color with oak cabinets. It was so small that it could barely hold his antique oak table with two chairs, one for him and one for his girlfriend. There wasn’t even space for a dishwasher. The 1960s flowery wallpaper was peeling from the ancient walls. He plopped himself down on their Goodwill couch and stared at the white, popcorn water-stained ceiling. His couch was the only other piece of furniture in the room besides their twenty-nine inch T.V. He could hear the water...

“Damn it, Margaret. You’ve sure done it again. Everyone in our town knows what a filthy whore you are. You know how I like things. What in your god-damn mind makes you think that this filthy house passes my inspection? You stupid waste of woman. You’re going to re-clean this house until it sparkles. And if in the morning it’s still filthy, well, you’re going to have a hard time explaining to the town why you look like that.” A slap across the face followed the drunken slur. It was so loud that Ellie-May swore it could be heard miles away. Within minutes the police were at the door. “Is there a problem here, Mr. Finch?” the sheriff asked. “No problem here. People need to mind their own god-damn business,” Pa answered. “Let me rephrase that. Is there a problem, Mrs. Finch?” “It was my fault, sheriff. I didn’t get his creamed potatoes warm enough,” Ma said. The sheriff folded pa’s arms behind his back and whipped out his handcuffs like always. “Let’s go, Al.” The sheriff returned...