Eye

will fail. You always fail.” Scar growled. “Maybe the crystal isn’t a good focus for you after all.” “You saw?” The mardoc shrunk into a ball. It would not kill Scar. Never, please never. “Of course I saw.” Scar tapped a claw between its eyes. “I do not have white-eyes. I am not a shaman. I still have enough of their influence in my head to hear and see what they send to another slave. You did not act on those images, my friend. That is another victory.” Scar purred again. Warmth spread through…

ways and forms. Beauty is seen in different perspectives based on Identity, status, and culture. Although people view beauty as ones outwards appearance and appeal, true beauty can lie within and can take on many different forms. “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”; a saying which first appeared in the 3rd century BC in Greek. This well-known saying implies that everyone has their own definition and recognition of beauty. What is seen as amazing to one person might be the complete opposite…

human" Beep. Beep. Beep. Rubbing my eyes, I slowly pull away from the comfort of my bed. I see the sun shining through the small window, bringing the warmth of home and love to me. As I turn to go downstairs, I hear a beautiful melody coming from the bathroom. I walk towards the beige door. As I get closer, the sweet, melodious sound turns into a deafening tortured scream of help. Confused, I pull open the flesh door, just to see it covered in bright red blood. My eyes scan the tiny room and…

Author Book Analysis “Kasey reared up and screamed. Like a garish painted scarecrow, a woman's face popped into her line of sight. They were no more than six inches apart. Kasey saw a frenzied green eyes, raven hair pasted in wet, messy strands across her face, and two hands pressed in supplication against the window. The woman’s slim neck was ringed in what looked like a red necklace but was really a deep and violent abrasion, dripping pearls of blood. ‘Help me, oh lord, help me!’” (4). This…

young boy walking the sidewalks, rock music blasting in his ears, waking me from my slumber. Yet, it was only 4 am and I was fully awake. I go to throw the blanket off my unnaturally warm body and find myself struggling. I look down with my refreshed eyes to see not a hand, but four black pads and long opaque nails all surrounded in short, tan fur. Where are my hands and most importantly, where are my thumbs? Startled, I peer down at my entire body, which was not…

Drip Drip Drip. That was the only thing I was aware of for what seemed like hours. After ages of attempting i finally managed to open my eyes, which had seemed to be caked with some substance that subtly reminded me of paint, but my achievement had been squandered by what I saw. A bag, most likely made of burlap, had apparently been thrown over my head (if not my entire body for I can not feel any part of it). A sense of numbness encased me like that of the chill of darkness that encased my…

The now gone Carlos was for me a brother, more than that a twin. Even more than that we were a cell floating in space that was separated a day of October. A day that I can not bring back as I can not bring back memories I wish I could revisit. But that is life, and in life everything grows and everything dies. Carlos was having some good time in Chile, his native country. He moved back two years after I moved. By that time we use to talk from time to time, mostly to remember rather than to…

My footsteps punctured the eerie atmosphere and sent a quiet whisper billowing through the drafty house. We silently snuck through the unrelenting passages of the prison, trying not to wake the guards. Our escape into the wilderness had been planned for weeks, like all good plans. A desperate grasp at freedom; a hope that we would be able to taste the breeze on our tongues that assured us hints of power and privilege. The frayed, thinned straps carved into my frail shoulders. A backpack that…

characters that were shown in the video had similar tone as if the word from the story was being presented in the animation. The narrator’s sanity is sensitive and on the verge of a break down towards this man. This old’s man existence ,mainly his eye, really bother’s the narrator because of the way…

In the novel Their eyes were watching god by Zora Neale Hurston the story of a woman Janie is told from her narrative of how her self journey to happiness and mental freedom is unfolded. The main character of the novel goes through about 3 relationships with 3 different men. But these relationships can be viewed as just a women trying to find the right man and finally get love right. There’s more to these relationships and the events that take place in between all three relationships. Each and…