Prim Die?: A Short Story

We rush to get on all of our necessary hunting clothing. My step brother and I go down to lake shore to load our stuff into our boat, lastly I push us off into the cold, dark ,brisk morning. Once we get to our spot we spend time throwing our duck decoys into what we call the “J hook”. As we are set up there is nothing more we can do, besides wait until shooting time. It's still too dark to shoot or see ducks flying, but you can hear their wings whistling over heard. Finally it's time to shoot. We see tons of ducks, we choose carefully on what ducks we shoot because we can only shoot 6 a day. I sometimes feel bad for my dogs because for almost every duck we shoot they have to go retrieve, but then I realize they love it just as much as I do. After we shoot our ducks we head back to camp, as I'm sitting in the front In the boat all I can think about is the next hunt and how amazing it will be, than I'm broken from my daydream from the slobber of my dogs tongue on my hand. At camp our first responsibility is to clean our ducks, which sucks. We pluck feather by feather and fillet out breast by breast. But I can't wait to repeat this process 6 more days in a

She took a quick look around the last turn before the main street that led to the school. She noticed several boys and girls in the alleyways on both sides of the narrow street. It looked as if every class at her school, several young ladies and even her teacher waited for her in ambush. She ducked back before they could see her, hiked up her dress, and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her in the opposite direction of the angry mob. She didn’t stop until she had found the forest path that she needed and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard no one in pursuit. The forest surroundings felt different for some reason and it frightened her. It had a forbidding feel to it this dawn like she had never felt in the past.

The forest gave me a peculiar feeling as I entered. This was because there were no forest animals making noise or motion. But, I continued on walking. As, I was walking I noticed a silhouette appear across a tree. The silhouette

The most important aspect of the Latin American culture has everything to do with honor. Women have the biggest responsibility when it comes to honor. Losing your honor might undoubtedly portray as the worst deed in this culture. In a Chronicle of a Death Foretold the author Gabriel Marquez demonstrates the horrifying actions taken when losing one’s honor. The purpose of this paper is to analyze the events that occurred in the novel and compare them to the same the culture and also the outcomes of going against your religion in different cultures.

She said to herself scrambling through the forest ever more eager to get to the safety of the neighboring country of Salved. As she broke through the branches of a wild berry tree, partially covering her sent from bloodthirsty Shepherds chasing her, she found herself in a small little clearing about twelve feet across. Sunlight lit the clearing from two parted trees somewhere above, the only lighting in this cursed forest, towards the left of the clearing there was a mossy boulder with a tree growing around the backside. Towards the right there was a single tree branch that seems to existed on its own, pulled down by a perfectly seeming fully ripened red apple. Running down the middle of the clearing was a little stream. But as much as her legs yearned to rest on the boulder and as much as her stomach grumbled and her throat begging to be wet by the cold stream water she knew it was either just her imagination or a trap. Real or not she chose to avoid it running around the outer right side still unsealed by the

On this particular day, she was walking through the woods, singing and skipping merrily along. All of a sudden, there was a sound behind her. As she turned around to

I see the familiar image of the clock. With every second, I grow weaker and weaker. I keep running, faster than I ever have before. I keep going until my lungs burn and my legs feel like they are about to fall off. Suddenly, I am plunged into darkness. I can't see anything for what feels like an eternity. Then, I start to fall. Faster and faster I plunge through the air. I know what lies ahead. I close my eyes and when I open them, I am not surprised to find myself in a dimly lit hallway. I wander farther and farther down the passageway. By now, I have the red wallpaper and black floor memorized. When I reach the end, I stare at a black door. Behind me, I hear the scraping of the stone wall coming to squash me, so I instinctively open the

I managed to make very few promises in my lifetime. The majority of them were with my mother, her pleading eyes telling me to stray away from things that could "harm" me. Usually after the first week or so it was broken, and the guilt washed away in time, but when Ruby Ramirez made one with me I knew I would have to keep my word.

When I was in third grade I got suspended. It was my fault, I got suspended for two things. First reason was I hit my teacher with a flying pencil top eraser. The second reason was because me and my friend was not the most appropriate people in our school. We were always doing something bad.

The time was 8:34 p.m. on a warm night Halloween night. The strong winds swayed the trees back and forth violently and the moon wasn’t out. It was clearly not typical to have this kind of weather in Maycomb this time of year. You can hear the animals make their noises as they prepare for nightfall. Scout and I were heading back home from the pageant at the high school. We walked through the bushes and trees until Scout stops us. She said that she had left her shoes and I told her to get them tomorrow. As we continued on our journey home, I had heard something in the woods. I wasn’t quite sure what it was exactly at first but I assumed it was Cecil since he was the one to try to scare us earlier that night. We continued to walk home. Suddenly,

I set up a few cans, Five to be exact and took 20 steps back from the fence line. Shot by shot I started to fire at the cans, BANG one down and I repeated to shoot until all five cans hit the dirt. I repeated this multiple times shooting the cans down and then resetting them so I could shoot them again, it came to about my forth time when Sparky my dog flew out of the house and headed for the distant tree line. Admittedly I followed after him but with every swift motion he took he was gaining yards on me, and by the time we hit the mysterious tree line he fanished. At this moment my hands started to sweat my mouth dried up and it was hard to swallow I have never once gained the courage to venture away from the plains into the forest, But I couldn’t let my very best friend go like this so I closed my eyes and took my first step into the unsearched treacherous lands of the forest. After walking for about an half hour carrying my rifle and a few shots to keep me safe I began to get tired and sleepy barely being able to keep my eyes open, and with every blink it seemed as though it was getting darker and darker, So I began to look for a place to stay for the

I perched myself up in a tree stand overlooking a massive river valley. This is the place where deer come down and across in order to get to the fields for feeding. The towering tree stand soared over many small trees. I glanced over the railing, looking down at the snowy forest floor many feet below. It was a frightening height. “Pull your gun up. I’ll work my way back around to try and push some deer

It was the darkest night of the year and the winter winds had finally arrived, biting into the skin of the traveler as he pushed onward through the forbidding forest. The villagers had warned him against venturing into the woods after sunset; they pleaded, saying that people had gone into the forest and had never been seen again. But he had a deadline to meet. The traveler was carrying a letter for the magistrate of the county beyond the mountains, a message warning of an impending attack from the south. The traveler had to get to the county before dawn or all would be lost, so he hurried deeper into the unfriendly wilderness. He paused, leaning against an ancient oak to catch his breath. Crack! The traveler’s heart froze in his chest. He looked around wildly, searching for the source of this sound. He was about to call out to determine if the noise had been caused by a person, but the words died in his throat as he heard laughter. The laughter sounded like that of a child but there was something off about it. There was a cruel twinge to the laughter, almost as if it was mocking him. The laughter subsided and was replaced by the sound of something scratching against wood. The scratching noise sounded almost metallic, as if it were made by a knife or a sword. The traveler drew his own blade and shouted “Identify yourself, friend or foe?” The scratching noise stopped abruptly and a child’s whisper replied, “Friend? I’d like very much to be your friend. Let’s play a game.” The

I could make a spear with the machete, and Hope that my aim is good enough to be able to get one of the birds to eat. The sun begins to fall and unfortunately I'm going to be without a fire for the night, I will try to get a fire started first thing in the morning. The bugs and mosquitoes eating me alive all night long. I woke up to a noise then I'm beginning to hate, it was raining once again. The clouds were covering the Sun, which meant I was not going to be able to get a fire started again today, I was going to need direct sunlight if I was going to have any chance of starting a fire with my glasses. I finally found a use for the tarp, I hung it up in the tree to collect the Rainwater as there was no other water source that I have seen so far in the forest. I sent in the cave hungry and Confused, wondering how was I going to be able to signal from down here. The only way that I could get anyone to see me is if I were to climb up one of the trees and set off a flare up there, but this could be very risky, it would only take one slip to fall out of that tree. I began to make the spear with the machete, I found a branch that I collected the other day that would do perfect. Because the weather is still not looking good, I decided to

For being twelve years old, she thought she knew her way around this forest quite well without the use of the magical, yet safer, pathways her fellow Mewmans relied upon. Thinking about how long I’ve been sneaking out to play here, that comes as no surprise. She thought, feeling a swell of pride at her own resourcefulness and intimate knowledge of the woodland.