Sonny Ropp Narrative

“Ma? What is happening in the town with all those men? I heard something about the French and Indian war. Are we okay ma?” Sadie asked he mother with a curious look on her face.

The room was hot with body heat and outside air seeping in through the thin walls, the smell of sweat hovered over everyone as they lay on the floor. If someone coughed or snored everybody could hear it, the next room too. Jewish families huddled together to sleep, inches from the strangers next to them.

Domestic violence is the leading source of injury to women between the ages of 15 and 44 in the United States, more than car accidents, muggings, and rape combined. A woman is more likely to be assaulted, injured, raped, or killed by a male partner than by any other type of assailant. Although, in recent times men also are abused by their female partner, the majority of cases still affect women entirely. Domestic Violence is often referred to as a pattern of offensive behaviour in any relationship that is used by one partner to gain or maintain power and control over another intimate partner. Domestic violence can be physical, sexual, emotional, economic, or psychological actions or threats of actions that influence another person. This includes

The killings in the novella “Of Mice and Men,” show that murder and death will come back to haunt people. The first killing is when Carlson kills Candy’s dog. He says that the dog is just suffering and it is also really smelly. This is why Carlson made the decision to shoot Candy’s dog, even though Candy doesn’t want Carlson to shoot his dog. The second killing was when Lennie killed his puppy. This killing ties into the next killing when Lennie kills Curley’s wife because Curley’s wife finds Lennie in the barn and she starts talking to him, when she notices that Lennie is trying to hide something she asks, “ “What you got covered up there?" Then all of Lennie's woe came back on him. "Jus' my pup," he said sadly. "Jus' my little pup." And

One day, a week from Halloween, Ashley sat in her room waiting for her friends. She sat in her bedroom window. She lived in a bad part of town. She turns on the TV just as an amber alert goes off.

It was freshman year at Iowa State University and a freshman by the name of Charles Jones had just gotten the news that there would be an ugly sweater Christmas party the upcoming weekend. The first thought that popped into his mind, “Oh God what the Hell am I going to wear?” Frantically searching through his closet he realized he did not have such a thing. He knew was better than that and. He would never find what he was looking for in his perfectly organized dorm room. The place that would have one though? His father’s closet. This would be no easy task though, his father was not one to give out freebies and would not part with anything. No matter how miniscule the object. But if you know Charles, you know he gets what he wants.

Three more guards stand in front of another, much more fortified door. A large computer monitor shows Alex, attached to more sensors than Fox cares to count. He 's sleeping, a calm expression on his face that reminds Ben of all the nights he coaxed Alex back to sleep after the teen had a nightmare.

Discrimination. “Did you see that girl!? What is she wearing on her head?” “That 's so weird! She 's obviously not from here!” “Do you think it 's because of her culture? Maybe she just wants attention” “Why is she wearing a piece of cloth around her head?” Racism. “Do you think she 's hiding a bomb under her scarf” “I heard that their kind were celebrating 9/11. Disgusting.” Outcast. Different. Weird. “She 's so quiet. She has, like, no friends” “She 's always wearing black, is it an emo thing?” She felt the words swirl around her. They enveloped her. Consumed her thoughts till she began to believe them. Maybe she was weird, different. Maybe when she chose the hijab… she had Knowing that they thought of her as so, tore her up inside. But she shook her head, Cleared her thoughts, and soldiered on. And she continued. One month, then two. Soon enough it became a year Then a year and a half, that she had dismissed the wandering stares and confused glances. The hurt was still there. It had drilled a hole in her heat. She taught herself not to feel. To turn her back and ignore. And so she did. She buried it all under the surface and continued with her life. When with her friends she put up facades of laughter, and yet again soldiered on. One day she walking into her classroom searching for something she lost. An accompanying companion spoke. “I think you 're my only Muslim friend” “I 'm probably the only one here.” she replied, looking down at her feet. A sharp pang of loneliness sprouted in her chest. She dismissed the feeling. Her teacher opened the door. Stepping into the classroom, The girl scanned the objects strewed wildly about the room. She could not find what she had come for. The door shut quietly. They were suddenly alone, Her and her teacher, surrounded by quiet. Suddenly her teacher broke the silence. “I 'm glad you 're being who you

Near the island of Kauai, lived a beautiful water nymph, Riptide. Riptide was an extremely curious nymph, and she loved to watch the humans who inhabited the island, but the ones that aroused her interest the most were the surfers. She loved to watch them, and became mainly attracted in one boy, a talented, and attractive, surfer named Jason. Soon Riptide found herself unable to stay away from him, and spend her hours watching him surf and go about his daily life.

Jake is a fifty five year old American war veteran. Seattle, Washington is where Jake grew up. He still lives there. Jake served as a Navy SEAL for 10 years. Jake is tall, about 6 feet 4 inches. He had white hair and he combed it over so it wasn’t in the way. Everyday Jake runs 3 miles. He is in good shape for a fifty five year old man.

Daisy had gone to bed angry. She'd always known that her parents did awful things down in the lower levels of the facility. It was the only justification she knew of that would keep them from allowing her below. By the time she'd turned fifteen she'd started to hack into her father's files. She began to see with her own eyes through his video logs what was happening. She couldn't watch most of them, they were so terrible! It was like watching a horror movie. She cried after watching the movies that first night. She also threw up her favorite lentil stew.

Summer had just ended, and the stench of rotten bodies still lurked in the air. The roads were scattered with rotten leaves, old cars and trash. Atticus and Chrissie didn't seem to mind as they carefully made their way down the suburban road. Atticus looked to his right, where the remains of a modern two storey house remained. The house next door was untouched by fire, blood or even bullets.

She gently linked her own finger with his and lightly kissed her son of the forehead.

As the curtains open, and the lights slowly come to focus, a young boy is shown sitting at a wooden table, drawing. The young boy has plenty of markers and pencil crayons lying all around the table. The young boy then drops his pencil on the table with content, and holds a piece of paper towards the chandelier above him.

The truth was, I wasn't a drinker like Fay. I couldn't drink alcohol. I was trying to be cool in front of him so he wouldn't underestimate me or bully me.