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    All he thought was what’s happening to me. Scott kept seeing things that weren’t really there. Once he would blink‚ it would disappear. Scott went to school thinking he probably didn’t get enough sleep. On his way to school scott thought about all the stuff that had happened to him and his friends. Well they all had been through alot with Scott becoming a werewolf‚ Jackson becoming the kanima‚ and Deucalion and his whole alpha pack. Scott and his friends fought through it all but Scott just couldn’t

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    "So this it." said a man with blonde hair in a wolf tail. He went forward to entering a large university. "Ben." called a voice. The man turned around to see a dragon with black scales covering the most of him and white scales going down his neck running up to him. "Mena. You made it." said Ben giving him a handshake. "Yeah. It was not easy either. I can deal with everything but these uniforms." The both of them wore a white dress shirt and black tie that was covered by a red colored blazer

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    Affirm-Personal Narrative

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    An Upbeat Ascent Wind in my face‚ I tramp up the mountain. Only the summit lays ahead‚ a monument of fear‚ casting doubt in the hearts of adventurers. The cold penetrates the security of my jacket rendering me stiff. A brave drop of sweat fights its way down my forehead‚ only to be swept away by the enemy. Craning my neck‚ I see the endless ascent of sharp rocks and jagged edges. Cold and discouraged‚ I fall into despair. Today was the day. I was going to summit Mt. Hyndman. Piling into the van

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    a poor shooter‚ has three bullets in his rifle to finish off Davey. Munny misses the first shot. He misses the second shot. Just before Davey almost moves behind the rock‚ Munny fires his last bullet and hit Davey in his gut‚ which is a fatal wound that eventually tortured him to death. In this scene‚ the camera specifically emphasized on the pain of Davey. Audiences observe the painful facial expression of Davey‚ and hear the painful moan of Davey. We also observe that when Munny shot Davey in

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    Personal Narrative: Olivia

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    Every morning‚ I go through the same agonizing routine. Wake up to my alarm clock screaming at me‚ eat a chocolate-chip croissant with strawberry milk while watching the glamorous‚ yet slightly annoying‚ Olivia Morgan and the rest of the cheesy morning news cast. Olivia is the type of person that can make you want to take a step back from life and look at how miserably bad you have done compared to her‚ though‚ at the same time‚ makes you want to gouge your eyes out every single time you hear your

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    Ballet Personal Narrative

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    At the age of 2‚ I was signed up for ballet lessons. Once a week‚ I would travel to my town’s small‚ run-down studio to dance for a half and hour. Caitlin‚ my sister‚ was in the same class with me even though she was 2 years my elder. As time went on‚ I became more serious about ballet. It became my passion. Nights at the studio multiplied from one night to two to four. At the age of 10‚ I surpassed my sister‚ and became a level IV ballerina. She eventually quit‚ but my love for ballet went on. By

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    Bondage I reminiscently mentioned a story to my mother‚ decades after she told it‚ when I was very young. I explained how occasionally the thought of it would rear its ugly head and briefly haunt me. Mom didn’t recall the event‚ but was mortified she could have told me such a story. Or did she? My recognition was she told me the story one night as she tucked me into bed–a bed with a nice big head board. (<This‚ pertinent to the story.) And on this night‚ in lieu of a nice bedtime story

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    It began as any 9-year-old girl would spend her Saturday‚ sleeping over at her best friend’s house. My friend Kennedi and I have been friends for a little over a year at this moment‚ we met in the 3rd grade and when this incident took place‚ we were 4th graders. We woke up that morning to breakfast that was prepared by her mother Mrs. Gross. We didn’t necessarily have anything planned for the day‚ just to play games and watch TV. Kennedi and her family were far more fortunate than my family was

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    I was having one of those I-don’t-want-to-tumble kind of days. I was at tumbling class at my cheer gym‚ Pride of Illinois‚ in Collinsville. Tumbling class started at 6:30 and we started off on a white blow-up tumble track. I was waiting in line to take my turn. It was finally my turn and I did a back handspring‚ toe touch‚ front tuck all connected‚ but when I did my toe touch my ankles rolled in and I fell down. I was in so much pain that I felt like I was dying. I figured I broke my ankle because

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    When I was in fifth grade I was irritated for the very last time! This boy in my class‚ who believed in Godzilla‚ was always disturbed and sometimes he just got people in trouble for no reason. Well‚ one day he went to the principal to get some other boys in trouble and he said I was one of the boys who picked on him. I was framed for the third time by him and I was furious! In the beginning‚ the principal called me up with some other boys and asked us what we did and they told him‚ but than

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