Short Story Of Brianna Lopez

Just a while ago I read the realistic fiction short story, “Eleven” by Sandra Cisneros. Rachel’s day started out just like any other day, only today wasn’t any other day. Today was her eleventh birthday. It was supposed to be perfect, Rachel’s mom was making a cake and when her dad got home, they would all sing “Happy birthday, happy birthday to you.” When Rachel got to class things were different than she expected. It all started when Mrs. Price asked who’s sweater it was that had been in the coat closet for a month. Then “That stupid Sylvia Salvador says “I think it belongs to Rachel, ”” and Mrs. Price believed her. Then Mrs. Price made Rachel wear the ugly, germy, smelly, “maybe a thousand years old”, red sweater. All the years inside

Each of us have done a thing or two that churn our stomachs to even slightly remember them. The time you split your pants. The time you fell down while walking at graduation. While each of these instances are absolutely horrid, they shape who one becomes over time. The short story, “Eleven” by Sandra Cisneros, follows an eleven year old girl named Rachel who has to cope with one of life’s sucker punches on what would have be a wonderful day; her birthday. The terrifying incident involving a disgusting red sweater that Rachel describes as “raggedy”, “old”, and smelling of “cottage cheese”. The emotions that these events evoke in Rachel, coupled with various literary techniques and choices such as stream of consciousness style writing, decisions

In the short story, "Eleven," by Sandra Cisnernos, Cisneros describes the birthday of Rachel, an eleven year-old who was humiliated on her birthday. Her teacher, Mrs. Price, claimed that an old sweater belonged to her, when in reality, it was Sylvia Saldivar's who ironically claimed it belonged to Rachel. Rachel was left crying and depressed the rest of the day, when she was commanded to wear it. Cisneros best characterizes Rachel through her well use of her diction,imagery, and repetition.

I am playing the rival baseball team, the NRV Heat. Coach Turpin has me on the mound. There is two outs in the bottom of the last inning. I am shell-shocked. The enemies have never lost to us, and they have the best players in the region. We have only won a few games out of the dozen we have played this summer. I cannot stay relaxed because of the extreme pressure on me. We had been working harder than ever during practice to beat this team. Everyone knows that this game could change our team's reputation.

Dr evelina lopez antonetty was a very important leader in Puerto Rico. She helped get women rights in Puerto Rico , like equal rights , rights to vote, women go to school and equal pay.

By now, Jennie’s life was focused on softball, though she did have a normal life outside the sport. She liked to shop, try on her mom’s makeup and hang out with her friends. In school, she was an excellent student. But softball consumed most of her free time. Every summer the sport brought her to a new part of the country for a national tournament.

The girl in the photo and Rachel from Sandra Cisneros's short story, Eleven are different from each other. The girl in the photo is protesting. The girl in the photo is on top of someone, sticking out from the crowd with her fist to the air, and speaking out confidently. This shows she is fearless and determined to get her point across. Her bravery is displaced by her sticking out from the rest of the crowd and shouting. The girl in the photo is standing up for herself and what she believes in. The girl in the photo is different from Rachel because she has the confidence to speak up and take a stand. On the other hand, Rachel is a weak and shy girl who cannot stand up for herself. When Mrs Price tells Rachel to put the sweater on she does not

Laura Hillenbrand was born on May 15, 1967 in Farvax, VA and spent her childhood years in Washington D.C. In D.C. Laura joined a swim team at around the age of 10. One practice while they were waiting for a storm to pass her coach told them stories, what may have seemed like fun story telling led to Laura’s life as a writer.

I was nervous to go up to bat with runners on base and possibly be the leading run. But I didn't let anyone see that I was nervous. So I started smiling to show confidence. I went into the batter's box hoping to crush the ball like how I've always done. I looked at the first pitch. The

My breakfast started to creep back up my throat as game time got closer and closer. I walked across the patch of grass behind home plate and was towered over by the 30 foot backstop with a huge net suspended from it. My bulging bag of equipment was beginning to make my shoulder hang. I walked down the steps into the cement dugout and placed my bag under the bench that spanned the entire length of the dugout. I sat down, laced up my cleats, and put my warm-up jacket on in preparation for batting practice. I stepped onto the grass surrounding the dugout to get the feeling of how wet the grass was. I dug my cleats into the grass and began my usual routine of taking certain practice swings as I gazed upon the press box in the wake of the backstop. Preceding the burn in my forearms, caused from the practice swings, I marched behind the dugout to the rows of batting cages to wait my turn in line. Pacing back and forth I knew I had to keep my nervousness to a minimum. I popped in a wad of Big League Chew and continued to

So, right when I got home I had to get ready, get my Gatorade and go to practice. Meanwhile, when we got there my coach huddled us up again just like last time and told my team and I, “ Here we go boys last practice of the year and the game is tomorrow make your last practice count!” he said. When he said that we should make this last practice count well that didn't go so well neither did my confidence go up. Meanwhile, since we went to hit first yesterday now we have to do the field first and do ground balls.

We were in a tie game at the bottom of the tenth inning, and that’s when it hit me. We had been working for this moment for the past eleven months, and now we were in Huntington Beach, California for the Premier Girls Fastpitch Nationals. The other team was in scoring position. I should have been panicking. I should have felt defeated. However, I was content. No matter the outcome of the game, I knew I would leave the field a changed person, because that day in that very game, I realized that softball has made me who I am.

Growing up with parents who are immigrants can present many obstacles for the children of those immigrants. There are many problems people face that we do not even realize. Things happen behind closed doors that we might not even be aware of. Writers Sandra Cisneros and Amy Tan help us become aware of these problems. Both of these authors express those hardships in their stories about growing up with foreign parents. Although their most apparent hardships are about different struggles, both of their stories have a similar underlying theme.

My team,coaches,and I all headed to the dug out of the field we were going to play on. We put our softball bags and waters in there including more things and we grabbed are gloves and masks and headed out on the field to play some catch. Then we all were finished so we hads to go back into the dugout for a drink of water,put down are gloves and masks and grabbed are helmets and bats. That flew by and the time for the game was getting closer and closer and I was getting more nervous by the minute but i was really excited. My whole team was pumped up and ready put in the inside of are head was saying the complete opposite and was filled with negativity. After we were all warmed up and loose we started to head over to another dug out at another field for a private pep talk with our coaches.

"It's Tessie," Mr. Summers said. The villagers picked up stones and looked at her. This was the 7th lottery that I could remember. Every early year, on person was chosen.