Examples Of Fatal Flaw In Macbeth

In English, I felt listless and ready to fall asleep. I glanced out the window. Once again rain was thrashing outside, and the sky was a surprising, saturated shade of dark blue. Ms. Valentine was turned, faced towards the whiteboard and began writing. We had returned to our reading of Macbeth, and despite my fondness for literature, I couldn’t be any less enthusiastic.
"Okay," said Ms. Valentine turning, adjusting her blouse. "Can anyone tell me what a fatal flaw is?” The room fell silent. "Anyone?"
"Yes," she said, pointing to the guy two seats ahead of me.
"Uh, a fatal flaw is when your face is so ugly that it kills someone." The whole class erupted in laughter.
"Not exactly," said Ms. Valentine pointing the whiteboard marker. "But good

We see this, especially in films and literature. This weakness can either be physical or mental, and it eventually brings the character to his/her down flaw. This character may even be the protagonist. In the case of Macbeth, Macbeth's fatal flaw is his ambition. But a fatal flaw can be anything, arrogance, greed, temper, or even something as simply innocent as curiosity. As the phrase goes, curiosity killed the cat. But It's important for readers to be able to recognize a character's fatal flaw so that they won’t be doomed to make the character’s same mistakes. It can also help readers guess parts of the

The only thing I was pondering, however, was the heaviness of my eyelids and the coziness of gray hooded sweater. Meanwhile, everybody else was secretly pondering the messages they received on their phones. I didn't know why my mood was so pessimistic today. Perhaps I was still brooding over my outburst at Justin last night. I wondered if he was okay.
A flapping caught my eye. I looked out the window and was surprised to see a raven perched on the window's ledge. Its eyes trained on me.
Go away, I thought and swat a hand toward the window. The bird didn’t flinch but merely turned its head a moment later. A second later, a small wind blew ruffling its feathers. I just stared and watched with curiosity. I felt sorry for the bird. The bird was probably just seeking refuge, hoping to evade the constant rain and biting wind.
Unexpectedly, a folded white piece of paper fell onto my desk.
My eyes flew to the paper, and then I scanned my surroundings. In the far corner of the room was the smiling, dark-makeup face of Celeste Distoria. Quickly, I opened the note.

“I know you were talking about me, and I know spirits plague you. If you wish to find out more, stop by the record shop sometime after