# Help with my english assignment? (Updated & completed)



## BTackitt (Dec 15, 2008)

This is the paper I have finished. A few of you asked to see it when it was done. Sorry, it is long.
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Breaking Away
     By the end of my senior year in high school, I was lucky if I managed to go to two classes a day. I did not want to miss class, but I was dating an abusive, lying, manipulative, control freak. Leo was two years older than I was and he would sneak onto campus every day and roughly drag me away from school.
    His abuse progressed from verbal and mental to physical one day while driving down the street about a half mile from my house. He picked me up from school as usual and we were driving to the apartment complex that he worked for as a maintenance person when he hit me the first time.
    Crack! My head hit the side window of his Jeep Wagoneer. Momentarily dazed, I kept my eyes closed. I started breathing deeply and slowly to fight down my rising nausea. The shining sparks behind my eyelids matched the growing pain in both sides of my head. My left cheek throbbed with every beat of my heart where he had struck me. I wondered what had I done this time to make him so angry. Being near him was like watching a powder keg or volcano, waiting for it to explode.
    Leo grabbed my left shoulder and shook me, cracking my head into the window again. “Open your eyes and listen to me,” he yelled. I kept my eyes shut, and tried not to move a muscle in my face or body; fighting to keep my gorge down. 
    Then I had an idea, maybe if I could pretend unconsciousness he would leave me alone and… What would he do if he thought he had knocked me unconscious? God, I just wanted him to go away and leave me alone. How could I get out of the nightmare that this relationship had become?  I felt worn out from always being scared of someone who was supposed to love me.
    “Bev, Open your eyes right now! Stop screwing around or you’ll regret it!” I felt him pull over to the side of the street. He turned off the Jeep and the silence seemed louder than his yelling. I could hear him turn to face me on the seat, and then his hands grabbed my shoulders as he jerked me around to face him. I tried to stay limp, allowing my head to roll and loll listlessly. I let his hands bear my weight, not trying to stay upright in the seat. My mind raced frantically. What should I do? What could I do? How long should I keep up the pretense?  The pain from the right side of my head where I had hit the window convinced me I would carry a goose egg away from this, but if he kept shaking me, I was going to puke all over.
    Thankfully, he stopped shaking me and leaned me back against the seat. I heard his breath rate increase in the confines of the vehicle. He was breathing so loudly. Then he spoke again, this time not yelling. “Bev? Beverly? Come on honey... wake up. I did not mean to hit you. I was just angry.  I am sorry. Please wake up.”  I heard his car door open, and I felt the Jeep shift as he climbed out. I cracked my left eye open just a hair, peering through my eyelashes to see what he was doing. As he rounded the front of the Jeep I let my eye drift shut again, and tried my best not to let my eyes wander behind the lids as I listened to him open the door. It was a ’69 Jeep Wagoneer, the passenger door often stuck, and it creaked horribly when it did open. I heard him mutter, “Crap. Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap.” 
    Inanely I thought to myself, “Did he really just say crap six times?” 
    When his hand once again touched my face, it was gentle, and I could feel a slight tremor in Leo’s fingertips. I gave out a low moan, with the pain it was not difficult to fake, and pretended I was slowly awakening. I made my eyes open wide and stare slightly off kilter at my surroundings. I counted to five slowly in my head, then turned and glared at him. “Take me home now,” I said.
    He quickly agreed, and practically ran back around to the driver’s seat to drive. He apologized the whole mile back to my home, but I sat stiffly next to him ignoring everything he said. We had been literally two blocks from an emergency clinic and he had not tried to take me there, I doubted he even considered it. I had a “supposed” head injury, and he would not seek medical care for me. 
    That was when I truly knew I had to get away from him. Who knew what could happen someday, and I obviously could not trust him to take care of me at all.
    Leo exhibited a remarkable turnaround in behavior for a few weeks, and I started to think that maybe he could change. By the time another month had passed however, I realized how wrong that was. 
    Leo was busy with his work one day and had no time to come get me from school, so I enjoyed a walk with my best friend Virginia. She had stuck by our friendship when everyone else gave up on me. By the time we reached my house, we were laughing and just enjoying the day. I felt happier and more carefree than I had in a long time. She invited me to her house for the afternoon, and I asked her to hang on while I dropped my books off inside.
    When I came back outside, Leo had arrived and was storming up to the house, casting vicious, malevolent looks at Virginia. He grabbed my arm, and started to drag me out to his car with a snarled, “Come on. We’re leaving now.”
    I tried to pull away, explaining that I already had plans with Virginia. I made it sound like we had all sorts of things already planned out for the afternoon since he was supposed to be at work. I looked over his shoulder at Virginia, trying to get a mental message to her. “Let go of me Leo.” I said quietly. I did not want to have a full-blown scene in front of Virginia, although I was afraid it was already too late.
    It was too late. Leo spun around, yelled at me, “Oh you want me to leave you? FINE!” and he shoved me backwards, then followed my stumbling body and shoved me repeatedly, harder and harder with each shove, until he knocked me down. I landed on my left arm and both heard and felt it snap.
    I screamed in agony. Instead of ending though, the scream turned into a roar filled with two years of pent up anger, fear, frustration, and hate. “You Mo****F***** As*****! You bullying, overbearing, egotistical, self-centered, pathetic, Creep! I loathe you from the depths of my being! You are psychotic, abusive, judgmental, over-opinionated, anal-retentive, a habitual liar, and thief!”
   I could hear Virginia’s voice yelling at him too, but my own anger screaming in my head made it impossible to hear any words. “Listen up Leo! You have two choices here right now. Option A. You drive me to the emergency room, drop me off, and go the H*** away. Do not ever come around again, Do not call, do not even drive by my school, or I will press assault charges. Option B, You leave now, I call an ambulance to take me to the hospital, and I will press assault charges with the first officer they can find.  Decide right now A**h***!”      I stood toe to toe with him, screaming up into his face. I felt myself vibrating with the anger, hate, and loathing I felt for him at that moment.
    His face was white with shock.  I could see fear in his eyes for the first time. He knew I would no longer allow him to treat me the way he had been. He meekly walked to his truck, opened the passenger door, and waited for me to get in. 
    Virginia grabbed my uninjured arm, and asked me softly so that he would not overhear, “Are you sure having him drive you is smart?”
    Equally quiet I said, “My parents won’t be home from work for a couple hours Ginny; neither will yours. I need to get my arm looked at. I heard it snap. It is not a major emergency. I do not want the fuss of an ambulance. He knows I am mad enough right now that if he does not take me I will call the cops. It will be all right. I will call you from the hospital, after I call my parents.”
    I got in the truck and Leo silently helped me into my seatbelt, then walked around and got in. We drove off, and I saw Virginia walk towards her place. 
    At a stoplight a few minutes later, Leo finally spoke. “Beverly, I am so sorry. I did not mean it. You know I love you. I did not mean to hurt you.”
“Shut up Leo,” I said. “Right now I do not give a rat’s a** for what you say to me. Just shut the h*** up, drop me off, and leave me the h*** alone.” I reached out with my good hand and turned on the radio. Then I turned and stared out the window. 
    “What the h***!” Something heavy and large landed in my lap. I looked down and there was a gun in my lap! “Leo where did this come from and why is it in my lap? Get this away from me! Oh my god! What is this? Why is there a gun in my lap?” I was instantly scared to death. Was he going to shoot me? Where had he gotten a gun? Where had it been when he came to pick me up? Why had he bought it? I had an instant headache when every single muscle in my body went completely tense.
    “It is loaded and I have already cocked it,” Leo said, “Just pick it up and shoot me. It is what I deserve. I don’t deserve you and I don’t deserve to live.” 
    I grew up around guns. I knew there was no way I could let the hammer down on this weapon with one hand. “Leo, Take this back and uncock it! I can’t do it with a broken hand! Please Leo, just take it and put it away. Get me to the E.R. and let me go.”
    “No. You have to shoot me. I hit you before, and now I have broken your arm. Just aim it at me and shoot me.” Leo sat staring straight ahead, as he spoke in a monotone voice.
    There was no way I could shoot him, no matter how angry I was at him. What could I do with the gun? Ok, think. There is no way it is not going to go off. Where could I aim it so that no one got hurt? I pulled my feet over to the left as far as I could, and stuck the gun down on the right side and pulled the trigger. 
    I remember not being able to hear anything. I remember looking at Leo and he was staring at me. I remember the acrid scent of fired gunpowder swirling around me and burning my nose. I remember looking to my right and seeing some poor woman in the next car staring at me, and thinking I had never seen someone’s eyes open that far. The light turned green and she sped off. We sat there numb. I started shaking. I dropped the gun to the floorboard. Then I screamed. A wordless sound at the top of my lungs. I screamed until I ran out of breath, took a breath, and screamed again. After the third scream when I ran out of breath, I started gasping for air. 
    Finally, I calmed down enough to yell at him. “Leo, Get me to the ER!” He started driving again silently. When we pulled up to the ER moments later I grabbed the door handle and slid out of the Jeep as fast as I could. I turned and told Leo, “Go. Get out of my sight now. Leave me and never ever let me even hear your name again.”
    I turned and walked into the ER, walked up to the desk and said, “My boyfriend broke my arm. I made him drive me here, but on the way he pulled out a gun and told me to shoot him. I could not put the hammer down with just one hand, so I shot a hole in his floorboard. Please help me.”
    I never let Leo back into my life. I had finally broken away from his influence and I had learned a valuable lesson. I never again let anyone have that type of control over me. I did not walk away Scott-free though. I lived with nightmares for years. Self-worth problems have always troubled me. I take one day at a time, and try to do my best with it.     

--Edited to post the story.


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## Scheherazade (Apr 11, 2009)

I'm sure we wouldn't mind, but we would need a way to see the paper   I will if I can find a moment during all this code and assuming I have any sort of knowledge on the subject.


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## BTackitt (Dec 15, 2008)

Knowledge of the subject isn't an issue,just things like grammar, voice, punctuation, etc. This is a personal narrative essay assignment. The problem is......... I could not decide which way to go, and have ended up writing 2 papers for it. I would like to know which one to turn in, and what changes I could make to make it better.

The first story happened 20 years ago, and is a bit difficult to write both due to the subject matter, and the time that has passed. The second story happened about 5 years ago in my "alternate life" of an online RPG game called Everquest.

Actually I am still struggling with the first story, but I will post what I have for it. The second one is finished and I can post it in its entirety.
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Breaking Away
    Crack! My head hit the side window of his Jeep Wagoneer. Momentarily dazed, I kept my eyes closed. I started breathing deeply and slowly to fight down my rising nausea. The shining sparks behind my eyelids matched the growing pain in both sides of my head. My left cheek throbbed with every beat of my heart where he had struck me. I wondered what had I done this time to make him so angry. Being near him was like watching a powder keg, waiting for it to explode.
    Leo grabbed my left shoulder and shook me, banging my head none too gently, into the window again. “Open your eyes and listen to me,” he yelled at me. I kept my eyes shut, and tried not to move a muscle in my face or body; fighting to keep my gorge down. 
    Then I had an idea, maybe if I could pretend unconsciousness he would leave me alone and … What would he do if he thought he had knocked me unconscious? God, I just wanted him to go away and leave me alone. How could I get out of the nightmare that this relationship had become?  I was so tired of feeling scared all of the time of someone who was supposed to love me.
    “Bev, Open your eyes right now. Stop screwing around or you’ll regret it!” I felt him pull over to the side of the street. He turned off the Jeep and the silence seemed louder than his yelling if that was possible. I could hear him turn to face me on the seat, and then his hands grabbed my shoulders as he jerked me around to face him. I tried to stay limp, allowing my head to roll and loll listlessly. 
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Elyssanda Kills Lady Vox
    While gathering my fishing supplies early one morning in anticipation of a much needed respite from my duties as Guild Bard a runner found me and handed me a note from an allied guild. They were going to hunt the white dragon known as Lady Vox in Permafrost Caverns and requested my assistance. Scouts had last seen her winging her way across the frozen tundra of The Everfrost Peaks on her way home the night before. Knowing our allies had recently lost their own bard to a hungry hill giant in the Moutains of Rathe, I quickly abandoned my fishing preparations, once again donned my armor, collected my weapons, took up my instruments, and headed out. 
    I knew it would take me at least four hours to reach the gathering point, and paced myself so that I would not be worn out before reaching my destination.  I had barely begun though, when I remembered my twin, Jeliel, was on her way back home from one of her foraging trips, and it would be possible to catch her if I deviated slightly from my planned route. I immediately changed direction, and a fifteen minutes later, found her moseying along, her eyes intent on the underbrush looking for dark purple sylvan berries.
    “Hey sis!” I cried, “The Prophets are gathering in preparation for an attempt on Lady Vox. Could I catch a quick ride?” Having a druid in the family made long distance traveling so much easier since they could create portals to distant lands.
    “Sure,” She replied, “Let’s go. Now boarding, Druid Aire.” Jeli warned with a laugh, “Please make sure all body parts make it through the portal before it closes. No one wants anything left behind.” With that warning, she opened a portal to Surefall Glade. We arrived safely, and as I played a song to help us run faster, we quickly made our way to the edge of The Qeynos Hills. “Let me throw an invisibility spell on us before we cut through the gnoll land of Blackburrow, Ely.” Jeliel said to me. “I would rather not have to fight off any of those nasty creatures on our way.” We stopped for a moment, and she quickly cast a spell of invisibility over us.
    We were careful upon entering the lands of the Blackburrow gnoll tribe, and were fortunate that they were not among the most intelligent of Norrath’s denizens. Although we managed to sneak through their lands without seeing any of them, we could smell them almost instantly. The stench reminded me of rotten basilisk eggs, the stench of skunks, and the brimstone I once smelled in the Lavastorm Mountains. We cut through the southern edge along the border of the mountains until we reached the Everfrost Peaks. Getting a ride from my sister had cut more than two hours of running time from my trip. Another fifteen minutes at a lesser speed of running and we arrived at the gathering spot for the raid. A chorus of greetings arose as we made our way to the meeting tent.
Reporting to the raid leader gave us our assigned groups; never were siblings allowed together in case of a rout.  I hugged my sister, and went to my group. I was getting that feeling in the pit of my stomach, excitement, dread, nervousness, anger, fear, and adrenaline all coiled up and tight, ready to make me vomit or explode.
    Here we were.  A fighting force unparalleled in this area, gathered just outside the entrance to Her cave; Lady Vox, Mistress of Ice, The White Dragon, we were a raid. I was fully prepared to die in order to ensure She did not survive the coming of the dawn. She had taken much from me. Her attack on my homeland took friends and family alike, leaving my sister and me virtually alone in the world of Norrath more than 5 years ago. I survived by turning my life to thoughts and preparation of revenge. I would be there today. We would see an end to her marauding hunts. No more would Vox burn out villages, eating the smoking carcasses and stealing treasures from temples.
I sent a final prayer to my chosen god, Tunare, and began to twist the magic of music into a web of notes that would surround my party, giving us strength, agility, protection, and hope. I was not a warrior, my muscles were far too slender; nor was I a healer, spending hours in intellectual pursuits in order to ground myself and heal others. No, my life was that of a bard; music ran through my head and coursed through my veins. I could not wield all magic equally, but in my domain, few could challenge me. 
We entered the tunnels that led to the cavern she called home. The rogues and rangers among us scouted ahead and dealt swiftly with the goblins that lived within the frigid depths of the caves. We went slowly, making sure nothing lived that could alert Vox to our presence, nor attack us from behind.  Those at the forefront of our vanguard set markers along the path, warning us of bad ice patches unsafe to cross. We went carefully; losing anyone to the pitfalls of the ice-caves before reaching our objective was unacceptable. The closer to Lady Vox we crept, the colder the air around us seemed. Anticipation and nerves had us all on edge. 
    We arrived at a spot in the tunnel weakened by some gnomish engineers. The warriors moved to it, and we gathered behind. A signal given, the main warrior broke through the wall, and we rushed in, as silently as possible. I took up a position where I could strike at Vox without allowing her to trample me. Our efforts at maintaining a semblance of formation held for a while, but then Lady Vox cast an insidious spell. 
    It began with a niggling feeling at the base of my skull. Then my songs started faltering, and my sword and truncheon shook as I battled. I soon saw others struggling with themselves, and a few began running away.  As I backed up and looked around, I realized that she had cast a fear spell upon us. We were in disarray. I ran to the edge of the battle, put away my weapons, pulled my lute out of my pack, and concentrated all of my energy into my voice and fingers.  
    I refused to give in to my fears, although I could not face the white dragon at first. I sang with all my heart, a song of spirit and hope, putting every ounce of my determination into my words. A battle hymn emerged, and as I felt my fears receeding, I turned and faced the creature of my worst nightmares. Slowly, I walked back toward the battle, singing at the top of my lungs, watching my fellow fighters beat back their own fears and face her once again. We beat her first attempt on our minds. Next beating her physically took precedence. Our warriors began a simple, methodical attack, taking turns protecting each other as well as finding openings in her defenses.
    Once the warriors again had Lady Vox’s complete attention, the spell casters began their jobs. They inflicted heavy damage upon Vox with the magics of fire, disease, poison, and pure energy. Lightning bolts flew, fireballs lit up the air, pestilent clouds encircled her head, and one could tell that she was taking heavy damage. Her wings beat less, and her tail had great chunks torn from it. My singing faltered as I surveyed the damage we were inflicting on Lady Vox. Then I spied a crumpled tunic behind the dragon. A warrior friend of mine, Knusern, lay immobile. My breath hitched in my throat and I raced to drag him away from the fight. Not another friend lost, I thought, and I shook with the effort not to cry, anger and sadness competed inside me.
    Suddenly I realized that I, along with many others, had run from the room in terror. I turned around and ran back in, angry tears streaming down my face, fingers once again flying over the strings of my lute. My resolve strengthened, and then I saw the great white dragon shudder. She dropped to her belly, and a final charge began with one of the warriors’ shout of, “ALL IN NOW!”
    Everyone who had a weapon began ferociously attacking any part of Lady Vox that was reachable. Her blood steamed as it flowed from her body’s innumerable wounds. I was near her head, and I maneuvered around in the gore until I stood in front of her right eye. With a primeval yell from the depths of my being I plunged my sword up into her eye as far as my arm could reach, driving further into her brain by walking up into the oozing fluids. Once I could no longer move forward, I drew back and struck again at a different angle, piercing her brain repeatedly until I was too tired to move. Lady Vox was dead. I stood in the viscous fluids of her eye, shaking in fatigue. I heard my name called and slowly looked around. 
    One of the clerics stood holding Jeliel in his arms.  I tugged on my sword and with a squelchy sound, I felt it release from somewhere in the brain. I walked to my sister, my legs now wooden, my gait stilted.
    We were lucky that day. We had done what no others had. The White Dragon, Lady Vox, was no more. Our lands, and those of others, never needed to fear her again. Unearthing the spoils of Vox’s nest helped to bring prosperity back to our corner of Norrath. To me however it was a bittersweet victory. If I had simply not asked Jeli for a ride, not told her of the raid until it was over; but I had, and now I was truly alone in the world.


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## drenee (Nov 11, 2008)

I was drawn into the first story immediately!!  I was holding my breath.  Really good.  And I thought your punctuation was fine.

I have not read the second story yet.  It's a bit longer and I have other things I need to get working on this morning.  I'll try to get back to it later today.

Good work.
deb


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## Leslie (Apr 7, 2008)

I can't believe they are making you re-take English. Usually it's only the science courses that have a time limit.

That said, I liked the first story better than the second. I have a hard time with fantasy stuff. In the first story, I didn't see any glaring errors.

L


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## NogDog (May 1, 2009)

I agree with others that the first story did a better job of grabbing me and encouraging me to read on.

More applicable to what I see in the 2nd story: if I were your editor, I'd try to get rid of a lot of the semicolons--not because of some prejudice against them, but because I think the overall pacing would be better if you streamlined some of those long, complex sentences, possibly breaking them up into separate short sentences. In general, if the reader has to keep track of punctuation in order to make sense of a sentence, it's probably too complex. 

I thought about supplying an edited example of one of the paragraphs, but I'd rather not inflict my personal style on yours. Instead just consider getting your blue editor's pencil out and being ruthless until it hurts. No one likes excising his/her own well-chosen words, but any adjective, adverb, or parenthetical clause that does not serve a definite purpose to drive the story/characters/theme forward probably serves to drag things down instead.


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## SongbirdVB (Nov 18, 2008)

The first story was very good, I was hooked immediately. I'm no English professor but I didn't see any errors and was very impressed.  I didn't have time to finish the second story, and I'll admit that probably is because the subject matter was not as compelling.  Had the first story been as long I'm sure I'd have found the time to finish.


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## dollcrazy (Jan 12, 2009)

The first story grabbed me right in, I would love to read the rest of it. I'm sorry I was not at all captured by the second one and didn't finish reading it, probably only because the subject matter didn't interest me.


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## LCEvans (Mar 29, 2009)

I was immediately drawn into the first story, but didn't finish reading the second one. The first story has emotion and tension.

Here's what I would change:

First this:


> Being near him was like watching a powder keg, waiting for it to explode.


 Good, but I would look for a different simile to avoid a cliche.

This: Leo grabbed my left shoulder and shook me,


> banging my head none too gently into the window again


 Consider something such as "slamming my head into the window again" or "beating my head into the window again." Or "banging my head into the window again." Avoids the cliche none too gently and uses strong action words.

This: "Open your eyes and listen to me," he yelled at me. I kept my eyes shut, and tried not to move a muscle in my face or body; fighting to keep my gorge down. 
I would leave out "at me" after yelled. And I would leave out "fighting to keep my gorge down."

"Bev, Open your eyes right now. Stop screwing around or you'll regret it!" I felt him pull over to the side of the street. He turned off the Jeep and the silence seemed louder than his yelling if that was possible.

I would leave out "if that was possible." The tag lines weaken the impact.

Overall good strong writing that drew me immediately into this dangerous conflict situation. I like that you've used dialogue and you've shown what's going on (as opposed to telling). I also like that you've used names so we can identify with the characters. You put me right into the picture and left me wanting more.

By the way, are you returning to nursing school after a gap? I, too, used to be a nurse, but haven't worked in that field for years. I can't imagine going back to school at this point--not for nursing, anyway. I'll stick to writing books, which was always my dream.


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## Sariy (Jan 18, 2009)

Seeing as I know exactly what you're talking about in the 2nd story.

These are a few of the changes. I would make. Take them with a grain of salt. I'm just happy to see someone else who does things on EQ for college. I did a 20 minute powerpoint for Computer tech class 

Reporting to the raid leader, (s/he) gave us our group assignments.

Lady Vox, Mistress of Ice, The White Dragon,

Here we were. A fighting force unparalleled in this area, gathered just outside the entrance to Her cave; Lady Vox, Mistress of Ice, The White Dragon, we were a raid. you go from naming Vox to yourselves with no transition. I would do something like "and we were the raiders (interlopers in her domain). Also DH says you should change it to read: The White Dragon, Lady Vox, Mistress of Ice.

"I refused to give in to my fears, although I could not face the white dragon at first."

I would switch this to read. I could not face the white dragon at first, but I refused to give into the fear.

I'll have the DH look at the whole thing when he's not trying to rush back to duty. He can come up with some more


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## EllenR (Mar 31, 2009)

The first story was very good. 

I've done a fair amount of grading of papers for our local school based on the Six Traits of Writing. I thought your voice was excellent and your conventions were fine. Your word choice is also good. It sounds exactly like what it is, a story written by your using your words.  It rings true and is compelling. I would encourage you to work through and finish it. I have a feeling it will be powerful to anyone who reads it. 

If you go with the second piece, I would take NogDog's advice. One thing you want to avoid is making a reader work to read what you have written. 

Good luck,
EllenR


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## BTackitt (Dec 15, 2008)

Thank you all so much. After finishing the second story, and struggling so hard with the first one, I was really debating finishing it, but I got a second wind late last night, and It has now moved along nicely. 

I think I am going to go with the one that pulls my emotions more, maybe because it does. Time to excise those demons.


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## drenee (Nov 11, 2008)

If you feel compelled, please post the rest of the first story.  It seems like we all liked that one very much.  And I know I would really love to read more.  But of course, only if you want to.
Thank you,
deb


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## kevindorsey (Mar 4, 2009)

REads good so far.


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## BTackitt (Dec 15, 2008)

Leslie said:


> I can't believe they are making you re-take English. Usually it's only the science courses that have a time limit.
> 
> L


Leslie, for the English class, I think it is due to the fact that it was take 20 years ago, and in a different state. Even English courses change a bit over that much time. I never had to deal with MLA stuff before.


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## Leslie (Apr 7, 2008)

BTackitt said:


> Leslie, for the English class, I think it is due to the fact that it was take 20 years ago, and in a different state. Even English courses change a bit over that much time. I never had to deal with MLA stuff before.


Well, maybe...I guess.

If there is anything on the nursing stuff I can help you with, just ask. I've been around the block a few times.  And my son is a rising senior in a baccalaureate nursing program, so he is probably more warmed up than I am. LOL

L


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## BTackitt (Dec 15, 2008)

Ok. First post edited and now has the updated and completed story.


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## koolmnbv (Mar 25, 2009)

See this is why i love KB! Always so helpful and there when you need each other!


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## NogDog (May 1, 2009)

BTackitt said:


> Ok. First post edited and now has the updated and completed story.


Well, if your goal was to make me feel really uncomfortable, you succeeded. And I mean that in a good way: the visceral kick in the guts the account gave me would indicate you communicated that horrible situation quite well.

I suppose I could probably find a few things to nit-pick over, but I'm not going to because I don't want to read it again. (Sorry, but I was brought up in an environment where a man hitting a woman is one of the more disgusting things a man can do. Yes, there are a few worse things, but I really don't care to dwell on any of them if I don't have to.)


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## BTackitt (Dec 15, 2008)

Our assignment was to write about a life changing decision from our lives. Mine was getting out of that relationship.


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## MAGreen (Jan 5, 2009)

Powerful. I have actually been there before. Good for you! Well written piece, No glaring mistakes, althought to be honest, I was so into the story that I didn't pay close attention to the grammer and puncuation!


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## NogDog (May 1, 2009)

BTackitt said:


> Our assignment was to write about a life changing decision from our lives. Mine was getting out of that relationship.


I wasn't sure if it was autobiographical or not. Knowing that it is, it just impresses me even more seeing how you were able to put it in writing so effectively. I hope this effort adds at least a little to the healing process?


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## LCEvans (Mar 29, 2009)

Very compelling story. I'm sure that at the time you had no idea how much danger you were in. You were young and naive and you thought you were in love. The way you reacted to the loaded gun and the way you finally took control and put this abuser out of your life showed your strength. You have certainly fulfilled the assignment to write about a life changing event.


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## marianneg (Nov 4, 2008)

Bev, that's really very, very good.  You've done a fantastic job, and the story is incredibly powerful.  I hope that writing it was helpful to you emotionally, too.

The only suggestion I have is to review the dialog.  It looks like you didn't use any contractions, which is good in an essay, but they should be acceptable in a narrative account.  I was stumbling over the "could nots" and "I wills" - they just sound unnatural in that context.


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## BTackitt (Dec 15, 2008)

NogDog said:


> I hope this effort adds at least a little to the healing process?


That was kinda my hope for writing it. It was rough this week while I worked on it. My DH was fantastic and very supportive while I worked on it. He knows most of the story. Just not the fine details, and nothing about the gun incident. He did ask once if I wanted him to read it, and I thought about it, but ultimately I said no. I am still ashamed I allowed myself to get into that type of situation even though I was 16 when I met him, and of course it did not start out that way at all.


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## Andra (Nov 19, 2008)

Please try not to be ashamed of who you were at age 16.  You had the guts and determination to get out of the situation - and that's a big deal!


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## BTackitt (Dec 15, 2008)

I got a 90 on the paper. Run on sentences and comma splices took me down.


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## SongbirdVB (Nov 18, 2008)

Still quite good!


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## EllenR (Mar 31, 2009)

A 90 is great but what is even better is that you shared your story with us. It was powerful and compelling. I'm impressed that you were able to pull yourself out of that relationship as a teenager. You must be one heck of a woman.  Congratulations on the story and on yourself. Be proud.

EllenR


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