Wednesday, October 30, 2019

Psychology and Addiction Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 3750 words

Psychology and Addiction - Essay Example Education was not given a priority in Rosa Lee’s growing years. Her mother would prefer that work and chores were done well and schooling was not as important, as she inculcated to Rosa Lee that she would never amount to something more than engaging in domestic work. Rosa Lee felt deprived of play in her childhood, as she needed to chop wood, carry heavy things, scrub a room spotless and cater to her family’s every need. As an adult, being overly clean with the house became her way of coping with stress. Rosa Lee craved for her mother’s approval. Her attempts to be close to her mother were often met with hostility. When she learned to shoplift nice things to offer her mother, she would be reprimanded, but later, as her mother would inspect the merchandize, would throw her arms around her with appreciation. Such acts of intimacy were short-lived, as Rosetta did not hesitate to inflict physical harm at Rosa Lee whenever she displeased her. On the other hand, her father, Earl Wright, an alcoholic had better regard for her and indulged her with whatever coins he can spare for her whenever he was drunk. In school, Rosa Lee felt that her poverty was holding her back from becoming what she was destined to be. In her puberty, she noticed that other children had nice clothes while she wore rags. At this age, the need to belong and be noticed by other children becomes very strong. Her first shoplifting episode was borne out of this desire to be upgraded in terms of fashion. From then on, stealing became a way of life, and she became better and better at it until such time when she managed to subtly slip merchandize in her waiting bag or under her skirt. Rosa Lee fared poorly in school, not realizing that she was a slow learner until she had the unfortunate episode of being thrown out of a class with a teacher she admired. With Mrs. Whitehead, she felt that she was learning, and enjoyed her teaching

Monday, October 28, 2019

The way weaponry has been portrayed. Essay Example for Free

The way weaponry has been portrayed. Essay Theme: The way weaponry has been portrayed. Throughout literature poets have used various literary devices in order to convey their message to the audience. Wilfred Owen has cleverly personified weaponry in the context of war and has woven it in his poems. This in turn accentuates the message he is trying to convey the paradox of War. The use of this tool is most prominent in three of his poems, The Last Laugh, Arms and The Boy and Anthem for Doomed Youth. In these poems he depicts weapons as sinister, flesh-hungry savages whose only purpose is to kill. In Anthem for Doomed Youth Wilfred Owen writes and elegiac sonnet moaning the loss of innocent life. Like his other poems to one too is steeped in irony. War he wants to point out is not fanfare and glory. It is dirt and muck and pain and struggle which ultimately end in death. His view of war is greatly influenced by his own experiences. Disenchanted, brutalised and lied to by his own nation he like so many others felt betrayed. They were taught that war was glorious and soldiers were proud and valiant, the truth of it was that war was none of these and soldiers were being herded like cattle to tthose deaths. He goes on to personify weapons in the Last Laugh as mocking the soldiers that they ruthlessly killed using words such as â€Å"guffawed and chirped† In the poem Arms and the Boy, Owen changes the portrayal of the weapon and showcases it as a toy that is being handed out to a child â€Å"Let the boy try along this bayonet-blade†. Along with the description of the weapon Owen also juxtaposes the loss of innocence that prevailed during the time of war. In the poem Sonnet On Seeing a Piece of Our Heavy Artillery brought into Action Owen portrays weapons as an object that has to be paid respect to, this is shown by the words ‘thou, thee’. He furthermore goes on to personify the guns by saying that he slowly lifted ‘thou long black arm’ and also describes the destruction that they eventually cause. The four poems have a lot of literary devices packed into them such as sound imagery, metaphors and personification which compliment his description of the weapons. World War 1 was the war that changed history. The use of mechanised weapons on an unsuspecting enemy proved to be the biggest challenge. Earlier war was seen as something glorious and even  chivalrous. World War 1 overturned that view, the senseless bloodshed, the ruthless use of weapons made this war anything but glorious. Owen was one such soldier who first hand experienced the horrors of war and unlike poets before him conveyed the reality of war. He and a few others were instrumental in ripping the faà §ade of the honour and glory that war claims to be. His poems are raw, undisguised versions of the harsh reality of what was occurring in the t renches of the Western Front. Wilfred Owen uses a significant amount of literary devices to convey how weapons play a large role in warfare. His poem the Last Laugh begins with an expletive, ‘Oh! Jesus Christ! I’m hit’ the title itself is rich in irony as the poem goes on to depict how the weapons that are personified ‘chuckle’ and ‘guffaw’ at the soldier’s death. Lines like ‘the bullets chirped, machine guns chuckled†¦and the Big Gun guffawed’ reveal the dark humour that underlies the poem. The use of onomatopoeia adds to the chilling darkness of the imagery, â€Å"tut tut and the way the splinter spat and tittered’ are evidence of this. His use of alliteration enhances the poetic tempo. The ‘lofty Shrapnel’ is personified as it ‘gestures leisurely’ at the dying man calling him fool. Weapons are further personified as grim, hostile entities. The Bayonets have ‘long teeth’ and grinned as ravels of shells ‘hoot and groan and gas hisses’. The use of capital letters to classify the weapons furthe r draws attention to their significance, in this case as purveyors of destruction. In Arms and the Boy, Owen depicts how innocence is destroyed by war. The title itself seems like an oxymoron because children are usually not associated with weapons. The poem begins with a calm suggestion of letting the boy try the bayonet blade and see how ‘cold the steel is’ The bayonet itself is personified as a creature with a predatory nature, ‘it’s keen with hunger of blood’ its appetite is further described as ‘famishing for flesh’ this use of alliteration of fricative sounds embellishes the rapacious nature of the weapon, it is described as being ‘blue with all malice, like a madman’s flash’ this simile conveys the cruelty and evil that is associated with this weapon. By using explosive sounds and the use of adjectives such as cold increase the sinister effect of the weapon. The second stanza similarly begins with a tender gesture asking the young boy to ‘stroke these blind blunt bullet leads’ the use of consonance  adds to making the bullets seem less deadly than they are words such as ‘ long to nuzzle’ portray warmth but ironically the euphuism , ‘in the hearts of lads’ stands for the death of young children. Cartridges are described as having fine zinc teeth, their sharpness is compared to ‘the sharpness of grief and death’ in saying ‘give him’ these weapons of destruction the poet is juxtaposing innocence with experience and death. Owen does so in a manner that seems innocuous asking the boy to play with these objects of death and destruction. The third stanza ‘his teeth seemed for laughing round an apple’ conveys the idea of childish innocence. The young boy does not have fangs nor ‘claws behind his fingers supple’. Furthermore Owen writes ‘God will grow no talons at his heels or ‘antlers through the thickness of his curls’. This conveys that God had not meant for man to be like a beast. Man needs to arm himself with weapons to don the mantle of a predator. In showing the young boy through the ‘thickness of his curls’ further implies how angelic and innocent he is. Owen is bereaved that he will one day pick up the weapons of destruction and will thus be robbed of his innocence. Owen uses many literary devices such as personification to depict the weapons he says the cartridges ‘have fine zinc teeth’ and the bayonet is described as being ‘keen with hunger of blood’. The poet alludes to Virgil’s epic the Aeneid ‘of arms and the man I sing’. The poem itself uses half rhyme and alliteration ‘famishing for flesh’, ‘blind blunt bullet leads’ to convey the tone of the poem which is largely sinister. In his poem ‘Anthem for doomed youth’ Owen takes the theme of how weapons destroy one step further. Here to the imagery is stark and the poem begins with sound imagery, ‘what passing bells for these who die as cattle?’ The reference to cattle further shows the diminished emotion that war instils in humans. Soldiers are equated to cattle and the death knells are merely in passing. Written as a Petrarchan sonnet with a ABA rhyme scheme Anthem for doomed youth vividly demolishes the myth of soldiers being valiant of glorious in battle. Here too weapons are personified guns are shown as having ‘monstrous anger’ and ‘the stuttering ripples rapid rattle’ The use of alliteration further enhances the sound imagery as the reader is transported back in time. Word s such as ‘stuttering and patter’ convey a sense of grief and hesitation. There is no one to grieve for those who have  died, ‘no mockeries now for them†¦nor any voice of morning save the choirs’ and these choirs are that of the ‘shrill demented, wailing shells’ by using words such as wailing and mourning Owen is trying to depict the harsh reality that the soldiers had to face. There is neither fanfare nor celebration ‘and bugles call for them from sad shires’ the soldiers are portrayed as the forgotten, remembered only in the ‘pallor of girl’s brows’ And in the ‘tenderness of patient minds’. Owen juxtaposes very interestingly the two themes of religion with war. The imagery of candles and flowers are harshly juxtaposed against that of death and pain. His use of mild innocuous language contrasts sharply with the violence of the action depicted. The two stanzas are starkly different as the first vividly describes the horror of war and the second the hope of the families left behi nd waiting for fathers, brothers, sons to return. The disillusionment and bitterness is illumined in this poem. The tone is contrite and bitter and a sense of irony pervades the poem. Written as a eulogy the heading conveys the theme perfectly, it is truly an Anthem for the youth who are doomed to die in a war that made no sense. In the Sonnet that Owen wrote he describes the weapons initially as an object those posses’ majestic qualities. He praises the gun by calling it â€Å"Great† which shows his respect for this artillery. He furthermore shows the Gun ‘towering towards heaven’ which shows that the gun is about to attack God himself, portraying the amount of power that it posses. He personifies the gun and lifted its ‘long black arm’. He also describes the canon as a weapon that protects its soldiers as well as kills. Throughout this poem he admires the weapons but the last two lines reveal his true perception of artillery. Harsh words such as ‘cut thee from our soul’ shows the level of resentment that he has against weapons as he also asks God to ‘curse thee’. The title itself is absurd as a Sonnet is a poem that is addressed to a lover however he uses it differently and uses it to both praise the weapons as well as criticise them. All of Wilfred Owens poems are bound by the sense of irony. His poems resound with pathos. He truly conveys the pity of war and doesn’t seek to elevate it as poets in the past did. His poems are stark snippets of reality as were experienced by young soldiers in trenches. The horror, the infestation the overpowering stench of war is all beautifully conveyed through his poetry. His poetry does not want to gloss  over reality it is reality.

Friday, October 25, 2019

An Essay Concerning Alias Grace As A Major Piece Of Literature

  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  The book Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood is a beautifully articulated work of literature. The book presents a Victorian mode spiced up with spooky plot twists. Although the book presents a Victorian mode it is not entirely comprised of Romantic ideals. Atwood is a modern writer who was influenced by the major paradigms of both American and Canadian history. Since she was a child, she was fascinated by the true story of Grace Marks. Grace Marks was a teenage, Canadian domestic worker of the nineteenth century who was convicted upon the murder of her employer (Thomas Kinnear) and his mistress (Nancy Montgomery). In this novel, Atwood reimagines Grace’s enigmatic story. And in doing so, she embodies a signature theme, the injustices of women’s lives which also conveys the literary importance of the book. Also, she portrays the hypocrisy and ignorance of Victorian culture. Atwood also cleverly uses the characters’ conversations to convey topics su ch as prostitution, spiritualism, and treatment for the insane. This is one factor that makes Atwood’s style unique. Alias Grace has a style that is thoroughly logical yet complicated. This is not the case with the author’s tone which remains indifferent throughout the book. And so, this intriguing novel is one of unique style, indifferent tone, a signature theme that conveys the injustices of women’s lives that was influenced by all of the important eras pertaining to both American and Canadian Literature.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Atwood presents a style unlike any other in her book, Alias Grace. Throughout the novel, Atwood inserts excerpts from other literary works to help illustrate the very complex Grace Marks. This is not common amongst modern writers. Another aspect that makes Atwood’s style unique, at least in this book, is her change of perspective. The book constantly changes from one perspective to another. Most of the book is either a narrative or a conversation (mainly between Dr. Simon Jordan and Grace Marks). Sometimes the book is in first person omniscient as seen through the eyes of Grace, and at other at other times, the book is in third person in a series of letters (and this is what may seem complicated to the reader). This shows Atwood’s grand creativity. Another aspect regarding Atwood’s style is her creative and descriptive diction. A good example of this can be... ...with one of which is blame. This can be seen in the quote, â€Å". . . once you are found with a man in your room you are the guilty one, no matter how they get in.† This is an example of how the book not only shows the superiority of men but also how women are always the one who get the blame. This was definitely true of Victorian times, and is usually the case today. This quote is very significant in that it foreshadows who will be seen as guiltier between McDermott and Grace when it is time for the trials. And after Grace is found to be guilty, she becomes known as a â€Å"celebrated murderess.† As can be concluded, Atwood’s signature theme in this book deals with the injustices of women’s lives.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  The novel Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood is a compelling story of a young woman convicted for murder. The novel is especially unique in its style, and although its tone remains indifferent, it conveys a unifying theme concerning injustices which women must face. And the novel gave Atwood the chance to embrace her fascination with the strong, clever, diligent, talented, thought-provoking, intelligent Grace Marks. And so, Alias Grace is a great book unlike any other.

Thursday, October 24, 2019

Shadow Kiss Chapter 27

Twenty-seven NONE OF THE OTHERS appeared to have noticed our absence. More guardians, as promised, had shown up, and we now had almost fifty. It was a veritable army, and much as with the Strigoi, the numbers were unprecedented, aside from old European legends of great epic battles between our races. We had more guardians on campus, but some had to stay behind to protect the school. A lot of my classmates had been drafted for that duty, but about ten or so (including me) were accompanying the others to the cave. An hour before departure, we met again to go over the plan. There was a large chamber near the far side of the cave, and it made the most sense for the Strigoi to be there so they could head out right away once night came. We were going to attack from both ends. Fifteen guardians would go in from each side, accompanied by three Moroi each. Ten guardians would remain at each entrance to hold back any escaping Strigoi. I was assigned to watch the entrance on the far side. Dimitri and my mother were part of the groups actually going inside. I wished desperately that I could have been with them, but I knew I was lucky to be along at all. And on a mission like this, every job was important. Our little army set out, moving at a brisk pace to cover the five miles. We figured that it would take a little over an hour, and there would still be enough daylight for the fight and return trip. No Strigoi would be stationed outside on guard duty, so we could reach the caves undetected. Once our people were inside, however, it was almost a given that the Strigoi's superior hearing would immediately alert them to the attack. There was little conversation as we approached. No one felt like chatting, and most talk was of a logistical nature. I walked with the novices, but every once in a while, I'd glance over and meet Dimitri's eyes. I felt like there was an invisible bond between us now, so thick and intense that it was a wonder everyone couldn't see it. His face was battle-serious, but I saw the smile in his eyes. Our group split when we reached the closest entrance to the cave. Dimitri and my mother were going in here, and as I gave them one last glance, my feelings had little to do with my earlier romantic interlude. Everything I felt was worry, worry I'd never see them again. I had to remind myself that they were tough – two of the best guardians out there. If anyone would come out of this, it was them. I was the one who needed to be careful, and as we walked the half-mile around the mountain's base, I carefully placed my emotions in a small compartment in the back of my mind. They'd have to stay there until this was over. I was in battle mode now and couldn't let my feelings distract me. When we were almost to our entrance, I caught a silvery flash out of the corner of my eye. I'd been keeping the assorted ghostly images that lived outside of the wards away, but this was one I wanted to see. Glancing over, I saw Mason. He stood there, saying nothing, wearing his perpetually sad expression. He still seemed unusually pale to me. As our group passed by, he held up one hand, as a farewell or benediction, I didn't know. At the cave's entrance, our group split up. Alberta and Stan were leading the group in. They stood poised at the entrance, waiting for the exact time they'd agreed upon with the other group. Ms. Carmack, my magic teacher, was among the Moroi going in with them. She looked nervous but determined. The moment came, and the adults disappeared. The rest of us stood there, lined up in a ring around the cave. Gray clouds hung in the sky. The sun had begun its descent, but we still had awhile. â€Å"This is going to be easy,† murmured Meredith, one of three other girls in the senior class. She spoke uncertainly, more to herself than to me, I think. â€Å"A slam dunk. They'll take out the Strigoi before any of them realize it. We won't have to do anything.† I hoped she was right. I was ready to fight, but if I didn't have to, it'd mean everything had gone as planned. We waited. There was nothing else to do. Every minute felt like an eternity. Then we heard it: the sounds of fighting. Muffled cries and grunts. A few screams. All of us tensed, bodies so rigid we nearly snapped. Emil was our leader on this, and he stood closest to entrance, stake in hand and sweat forming on his brow as he peered into the darkness, ready for any sign of a Strigoi. A few minutes into it, we heard the sound of footsteps running toward us. Our stakes were ready. Emil and another guardian drew closer to the entrance, ready to jump in and kill the fleeing Strigoi. But it wasn't a Strigoi who came out. It was Abby Badica. She was scraped up and dirty, but otherwise, she was alive. Her face was frantic and streaked with tears. At first, she screamed when she saw all of us. Then she realized who we were and collapsed into the arms of the first person she could get to – Meredith. Meredith looked surprised, but she gave Abby a hug of reassurance. â€Å"It's okay,† Meredith said. â€Å"Everything's okay. You're in the sun.† Gently, Meredith unwrapped Abby and led her to a nearby tree. Abby sat at its base, burying her face in her hands. Meredith returned to her position. I wanted to comfort Abby. I think we all did, but it would have to wait. A minute later, another Moroi came out. It was Mr. Ellsworth, the teacher I'd had in fifth grade. He too looked worn, and his neck showed puncture marks. The Strigoi had used him for feeding but hadn't killed him yet. Nonetheless, despite what horrors he must have faced, Mr. Ellsworth was calm, his eyes alert and watchful. He recognized the situation and immediately stepped out of our circle. â€Å"What's going on in there?† asked Emil, his eyes on the cave. Some of the guardians had earpieces, but I imagined in the midst of battle, it was hard to report back. â€Å"It's a mess,† said Mr. Ellsworth. â€Å"But we're getting away – in both directions. It's hard to tell who's fighting who, but the Strigoi are distracted. And someone†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He frowned. â€Å"I saw someone using fire on the Strigoi.† None of us answered. It was too complex to get into right now. He seemed to realize that and withdrew to sit near a still-sobbing Abby. Two more Moroi and a dhampir I didn't know soon joined Abby and Mr. Ellsworth. Each time someone came out, I prayed that it would be Eddie. We had five victims so far, and I had to assume that others were escaping at the entrance closest to the school. Several minutes passed, though, and no one else came out. My shirt was drenched, soaked through with sweat. I had to shift my hold on the stake every once in a while. My grip was so tight that my fingers were locking up. Suddenly, I saw Emil flinch. I realized he was getting a message through his earpiece. His face showed intense concentration, and then he murmured something back. Looking up at us, he pointed at three novices. â€Å"You – take them back to the school.† He gestured at the refugees, and then turned toward three of the adult guardians. â€Å"Go in. Most of the prisoners have gotten out, but our people are trapped. There's a stalemate.† The guardians moved in without hesitation, and a few moments later, the novices and their charges took off. That left four of us, two adults – Emil and Stephen – and two novices, me and Shane. The tension around us was so thick, we could barely breathe. No one else was coming out. No more reports were being made. Emil glanced up and looked alarmed. I followed his gaze. More time had passed than I realized. The sun was significantly lower. Emil suddenly flinched again as another message came through. He looked at all of us, his face troubled. â€Å"We need more in there to cover the escape on the other end. It doesn't sound like we've lost many. They're just still having trouble with the retreat.† Many, he'd said. Not any. That meant we'd lost at least one person. I felt cold all over. â€Å"Stephen, you go in,† said Emil. He hesitated, and I could read his dilemma like a book. He wanted to go in too, but as the leader for this side, he was supposed to stay stationed here until the last possible moment. He was on the verge of disobeying those orders, I realized. He was considering going in with Stephen and leaving Shane and me out here. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't bring himself to leave two novices here alone, should something unexpected happen. Emil exhaled, and he looked us over. â€Å"Rose, go with him.† I didn't waste a moment. Following Stephen, I slipped into the cave, and immediately, that nauseous feeling rolled over me. It had been cold outside, but it was colder still as we moved deeper. It was also darker. Our eyes could handle a fair amount of it, but it soon became too much. He flipped on a small light attached to his jacket. â€Å"I wish I could tell you what to do, but I don't know what we'll find,† he told me. â€Å"Be ready for anything.† The darkness in front of us began to fade. The sounds grew louder. We picked up the pace, glancing in all directions. Suddenly, we found ourselves in the large chamber shown on the map. A fire burned in one corner – one the Strigoi had made, not anything magical – that was providing the light. Looking around, I immediately saw what had happened. Part of the wall had fallen in, creating a pile of stones. No one had been crushed under it, but it had almost entirely blocked the opening to the other side of the cave. I didn't know if magic had caused it, or if the fighting had. Maybe it had been a coincidence. Whatever the reason, seven guardians – including Dimitri and Alberta – were trapped now by ten Strigoi. No Moroi fire users had been caught on this side, but the flashes of light coming through the opening in the cave-in showed me that they were still fighting on the other side. I saw bodies lying on the floor. Two were Strigoi, but I couldn't make out the others. The problem was obvious. Getting through the opening would require someone practically crawling. It would put the person in a vulnerable position. This meant these Strigoi needed to be taken out before the guardians could make their escape. Stephen and I were going to help even the odds. We came up from behind the Strigoi, but three of them sensed us somehow and turned toward us. Two jumped Stephen, and the other came at me. Instantly, I kicked into battle mode. All the rage and frustration poured out through me. The cave made for close fighting quarters, but I was still able to evade him. In fact, the close space was to my advantage because the Strigoi, with his larger size, had trouble ducking and dodging. I stayed out of his reach mostly, though he did grab hold of me long enough to slam me against the wall. I didn't even feel it. I just kept moving, going on the offensive. I eluded his next attack, got in some blows of my own, and, with my small size, managed to slip down and stake him before his next hit. I pulled out the blade in one smooth motion and went to help Stephen. He'd taken out one of his attackers, and between us, we finished the last one. That left seven Strigoi now. No, six. The trapped guardians – who were having difficulty in their pinned position – had killed another. Stephen and I jerked the Strigoi closest to us out of the circle. He was a strong one – very old, very powerful – and even with the two of us, he was hard to take down. At last, we did. With the Strigoi numbers reduced, the other guardians were having an easier time getting to the rest. They started freeing themselves from their trapped position, and their numbers alone were now an aid. When the Strigoi count was down to two, Alberta yelled at us to start escaping. Our alignment in the room had changed. We were now the ones surrounding the last two Strigoi. This left the path clear for three of the guardians to escape via the way I'd come in. Stephen, meanwhile, crawled through the hole to the other side. Dimitri staked one of the two Strigoi. One left. Stephen stuck his head back in and shouted something to Alberta that I couldn't quite make out. She yelled something back without looking at him. She, Dimitri, and two others were closing in on the last Strigoi. â€Å"Rose,† yelled Stephen, beckoning. Follow orders. That's what we did. I left the fray, scrambling through the hole more easily than he had, thanks to my smaller size. Another guardian immediately followed after me. No one was on this side of cave-in. The fight had either ended or moved on. Bodies showed that things had been intense, however. I saw more Strigoi, as well as a familiar face: Yuri. I hastily looked away toward Stephen, who was helping another guardian through. Alberta came next. â€Å"They're dead,† she called. â€Å"It sounds like there are a few more blocking the retreat down here. Let's finish this before the sun comes up.† Dimitri came last of all through the gap. He and I exchanged brief, relieved glances, and then we were on the move. This was the long part of the tunnel, and we hurried down it, anxious to get our remaining people out. At first, we encountered nothing, and then flashes of light indicated a fight up ahead. Ms. Carmack and my mother were fighting three Strigoi. My group closed in, and in seconds, the Strigoi were down. â€Å"That's it for this group,† my mother gasped out. I was grateful to see her alive too. â€Å"But I think there are more here than we thought. I think they left some behind when they went to attack the school. The rest of our people – that survived – have already made it out.† â€Å"There are other branches in the cave,† said Alberta. â€Å"Strigoi could be hiding in there.† My mother agreed. â€Å"They could be. Some know they're overwhelmed and are just going to wait us out and escape later. Others may come after us.† â€Å"What do we do?† asked Stephen. â€Å"Finish them off? Or retreat?† We turned to Alberta. She made a quick decision. â€Å"We retreat. We got as many as we could, and the sun is dropping. We need to get back behind the wards.† We took off, so close to victory, fueled by the disappearing light. Dimitri was beside me as we moved. â€Å"Did Eddie get out?† I hadn't seen his body, but I hadn't been paying much attention either. â€Å"Yes,† said Dimitri, breathing ragged. God only knew how many Strigoi he'd fought today. â€Å"We had to practically force him out. He wanted to fight.† That sounded like Eddie. â€Å"I remember this curve,† my mother said as we rounded a corner. â€Å"It's not much farther. We should see light soon.† Thus far, we were only guided by the jacket lights. I felt the nausea only a split second before they attacked. At a T intersection, seven Strigoi jumped us. They'd let the earlier party escape, but they'd been lying in wait for us, three on one side and four on the other. One guardian, Alan, never saw it coming. A Strigoi grabbed him and snapped Alan's neck so quickly that it looked effortless. It probably was. It was such a mirror to what had happened to Mason that I nearly came to a standstill. Instead, I doubled back, ready to get into the fray. But we were in a narrow part of the tunnel, and not all of us could get through to the Strigoi. I was stuck in the back. Ms. Carmack was beside me, and she had enough visibility to light up a couple of the Strigoi, making it easier for those guardians in the fight to stake them. Alberta caught a glimpse of me and a couple other guardians. â€Å"Start retreating!† she yelled. None of us wanted to leave, but there wasn't much we could do. I saw one guardian fall, and my heart lurched. I hadn't known him, but it didn't matter. In seconds my mother was on the Strigoi attacker, driving her stake through his heart. Then I lost sight of the fight as I rounded another corner with the three guardians with me. Farther down the corridor, I saw faint purplish light. The exit. Faces of other guardians peered in at us. We'd made it. But where were the others? We ran to the exit, emerging into the air. My group clustered by the opening, anxious to see what had happened. The sun, I was dismayed to see, was nearly gone. The nausea hadn't left me, which meant Strigoi were still alive. Moments later, my mother's party came tearing down the hall. By the numbers, one more had gone down. But they were so close. Everyone around me tensed up. So close. So, so close. But not close enough. Three Strigoi lay in wait in one of the alcoves. We'd passed them, but they'd let us go by. It all happened so fast; no one could have reacted in time. One of the Strigoi grabbed Celeste, his mouth and fangs going for her cheek. I heard a strangled scream and saw blood everywhere. One of the Strigoi went for Ms. Carmack, but my mother jerked her away and shoved her forward toward us. The third Strigoi grabbed Dimitri. In all the time I'd known him, I'd never seen Dimitri falter. He was always faster, always stronger than everyone else. Not this time. This Strigoi had caught him by surprise, and that slight edge was all it had taken. I stared. It was the blond Strigoi. The one who had spoken to me in the battle. He grabbed Dimitri and pulled him to the ground. They grappled, strength against strength, and then I saw those fangs sink into Dimitri's neck. The red eyes flicked up and made contact with my own. I heard another scream – this time, it was my own. My mother started to double back toward the fallen, but then five more Strigoi appeared. It was chaos. I couldn't see Dimitri anymore; I couldn't see what had happened to him. Indecision flashed over my mother's features as she tried to decide to flee or fight, and then, regret all over her face, she kept running toward us and the exit. Meanwhile, I was trying to run back inside, but someone was stopping me. It was Stan. â€Å"What are you doing, Rose? More are coming.† Didn't he understand? Dimitri was in there. I had to get Dimitri. My mother and Alberta burst out, dragging Ms. Carmack. A group of Strigoi were after them, skidding to a halt just on the edge of the waning light. I was still fighting Stan. He didn't need the help, but my mother grasped a hold of me and tugged me away. â€Å"Rose, we have to get out of here!† â€Å"He's in there!† I screamed, straining as hard as I could. How could I have killed Strigoi and not been able to break free from these two? â€Å"Dimitri's in there! We have to go back for him! We can't leave him!† I was rambling, hysterical, shouting at them all that we had to go rescue Dimitri. My mother shook me hard and leaned close so there were only a couple inches between us. â€Å"He is dead, Rose! We can't go back in there. The sun will be down in fifteen minutes, and they are waiting for us. We're going to be in the dark before we can get back to the wards. We need every second we can get – it still may not be enough.† I could see the Strigoi gathered at the entrance, their red eyes gleaming with anticipation. They completely filled the opening, ten I believed. Maybe more. My mother was right. With their speed, even our fifteen-minute lead might not be enough. And yet, I still couldn't take a step. I couldn't stop staring at the cave, back where Dimitri was, back where half of my soul was. He couldn't be dead. If he was, then surely I would be dead too. My mother slapped me, the pain snapping me out of my daze. â€Å"Run!† she yelled at me. â€Å"He is dead! You are not going to join him!† I saw the panic in her own face, panic over me – her daughter – getting killed. I remembered Dimitri saying he'd rather die than see me dead. And if I stood there stupidly, letting the Strigoi get me, I'd fail both of them. â€Å"Run!† she cried again. Tears streaming down my face, I ran.

Wednesday, October 23, 2019

Sop for Ms Finance

My interest in the field of finance traces back to my childhood. As I was growing up, the â€Å"Doi moi† (â€Å"Reformation†) Era brought about more freedom and openness to the stagnant system in Vietnam. People could start to have their own businesses and deal with foreign entrepreneurs. Naturally, I could, at the time, understand neither technical concepts, such as principal, interest and deposit, nor how a bank worked or even what it was; however, in my nascent perceptions, I could discern the importance of financial institutions as keepers of people’s wealth, and even of their hopes for the future.Accordingly, I grew more and more determined to place my future in the field of finance. Throughout middle and high school, I dedicated most of my time to natural sciences, such as Mathematics, Chemistry and Physics. I could describe myself as an accurate and analytical-oriented person, for not only did I received rigorous training, but I also enjoyed being pertinen t and precise. In 2005, I entered the Vietnam National University in Hanoi, majoring in Finance and Banking, but later transferred to International Economics to enroll in an highly selective Honors Program.Before the time of the transferring decision, I hesitated for a brief period because I would have to postpone my pursuit of Finance. Nonetheless, I understood the importance of Economics and fully anticipated that an extensive knowledge of the field would eventually serve me well in a financial career. My concentration during the program, conveniently, focused heavily on Stock Market, International Finance, Economics of Finance and Banking and International Payment.The insightful study on matters such as commercial banks' functionalities, the central bank's instrument and responsibilities, and the significance of the balance of trades and exchange rates, has enabled me to grasp the fundamental ideas of the field, as well as triggered my utmost curiosity in understanding thoroughly the financial side of Economics. In my third year, when I was studying Stock Market, I entered a research project with Dr.Ha Tran, who was a fellow at the University of XXX. We then worked together on the topic: â€Å"Current Situation in the Loan Market for Investment on Real Estate†. Simultaneously, I was also eager to engage in another group research on the petroleum market, which later won me the second prize for student’s research from the Faculty of International Economics. At the end of this school year, I intend to write my graduation thesis in the field of International Finance, particularlyAdditionally, I possess first-hand experiences on the financial market as I started making a small investment in the Ho Chi Minh Stock Exchange during my third year. At the beginning, I consulted my teachers and my parents’ friends, who are experienced businessmen, to comprise a profiting portfolio, which, in turn, required me to watch for enterprises’ data m eticulously: their ROEs, P/Es, net profit and current news of their operations. My stocks paid off wonderfully for a short period, as the total value of my portfolio increased by 30% during the first few months.Like most dabbling investors, I was under the illusion that making money was not a difficult task. Unfortunately, the stock crash happening at the end of 2009 brought me back to the ground. The VN Index, the main indicator of the market, fell from 1200 to 400 in less than six months, reducing my fortune by one-third. However, while most other previously ardent investors withdrew from the market as quickly as they entered, I proposed a new strategy that kept me in the market for long-term investment.In the near future, I believe I will be able to balance my financial activities once again. In 2010 , I had a chance to go to Thailand on a trip to Chulalongkorn University in Bangkok. It was my first long trip to a capital city of the neighboring country, which impressed me a lot with their metropolitan infrastructure and dynamic business environment. I was convinced that Vietnam needed decades to reach the current development level of Thailand.Back home, when I was reading â€Å"The Lexus and the Olive Tree† by Thomas Friedmann, the opening pages struck me with minute details of the Asian Crisis in1997, which ignited in Thailand. In merely few weeks, fifty six of fifty eight banks in Bangkok went bankrupt. Accordingly, I have realized that the nascent financial market of Vietnam still has a long way to go, and I myself also have much more to learn. My nation needs a lot more experts in the field to help regulate the emerging market and support people in making ise investments, so that their assets are kept in a safe place and growing. In conclusion, I want to restate my desire for a study in finance in University of XYZ. I firmly believe in my ability in the field due to my long-term commitment and determination. My study would help me best in my fut ure career as a financial expert which I have always dedicated myself to. The knowledge which I shall obtain is also what I aim to bring back to my country, contributing to the development of an advanced, well-structured financial market of Vietnam.