The Twilight Saga 2: New Moon Chapter 2 STITCHES

CARLISLE WAS NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO STAYED calm. Centuries of experience in the emergency room were evident in his quiet, authoritative voice. â€Å"Emmett, Rose, get Jasper outside.† Unsmiling for once, Emmett nodded. â€Å"Come on, Jasper.† Jasper struggled against Emmett's unbreakable grasp, twisting around, reaching toward his brother with his bared teeth, his eyes still past reason. Edward's face was whiter than bone as he wheeled to crouch over me, taking a clearly defensive position. A low warning growl slid from between his clenched teeth. I could tell that he wasn't breathing. Rosalie, her divine face strangely smug, stepped in front of Jasperkeeping a careful distance from his teethand helped Emmett wrestle him through the glass door that Esme held open, one hand pressed over her mouth and nose. Esme's heart-shaped face was ashamed. â€Å"I'm so sorry, Bella,† she cried as she followed the others into the yard. â€Å"Let me by, Edward,† Carlisle murmured. A second passed, and then Edward nodded slowly and relaxed his stance. Carlisle knelt beside me, leaning close to examine my arm. I could feel the shock frozen on my face, and I tried to compose it. â€Å"Here, Carlisle,† Alice said, handing him a towel. He shook his head. â€Å"Too much glass in the wound.† He reached over and ripped a long, thin scrap from the bottom of the white tablecloth. He twisted it around my arm above the elbow to form a tourniquet. The smell of the blood was making me dizzy. My ears rang. â€Å"Bella,† Carlisle said softly. â€Å"Do you want me to drive you to the hospital, or would you like me to take care of it here?† â€Å"Here, please,† I whispered. If he took me to the hospital, there would be no way to keep this from Charlie. â€Å"I'll get your bag,† Alice said. â€Å"Let's take her to the kitchen table,† Carlisle said to Edward. Edward lifted me effortlessly, while Carlisle kept the pressure steady on my arm. â€Å"How are you doing, Bella?† Carlisle asked. â€Å"I'm fine.† My voice was reasonably steady, which pleased me. Edward's face was like stone. Alice was there. Carlisle's black bag was already on the table, a small but brilliant desk light plugged into the wall. Edward sat me gently into a chair, and Carlisle pulled up another. He went to work at once. Edward stood over me, still protective, still not breathing. â€Å"Just go, Edward,† I sighed. â€Å"I can handle it,† he insisted. But his jaw was rigid; his eyes burned with the intensity of the thirst he fought, so much worse for him than it was for the others. â€Å"You don't need to be a hero,† I said. â€Å"Carlisle can fix me up without your help. Get some fresh air.† I winced as Carlisle did something to my arm that stung. â€Å"I'll stay,† he said. â€Å"Why are you so masochistic?† I mumbled. Carlisle decided to intercede. â€Å"Edward, you may as well go find Jasper before he gets too far. I'm sure he's upset with himself, and I doubt he'll listen to anyone but you right now.† â€Å"Yes,† I eagerly agreed. â€Å"Go find Jasper.† â€Å"You might as well do something useful,† Alice added. Edward's eyes narrowed as we ganged up on him, but, finally, he nodded once and sprinted smoothly through the kitchen's back door. I was sure he hadn't taken a breath since I'd sliced my finger. A numb, dead feeling was spreading through my arm. Though it erased the sting, it reminded me of the gash, and I watched Carlisle's face carefully to distract me from what his hands were doing. His hair gleamed gold in the bright light as he bent over my arm. I could feel the faint stirrings of unease in the pit of my stomach, but I was determined not to let my usual squeamishness get the best of me. There was no pain now, just a gentle tugging sensation that I tried to ignore. No reason to get sick like a baby. If she hadn't been in my line of sight, I wouldn't have noticed Alice give up and steal out of the room. With a tiny, apologetic smile on her lips, she disappeared through the kitchen doorway. â€Å"Well, that's everyone,† I sighed. â€Å"I can clear a room, at least.† â€Å"It's not your fault,† Carlisle comforted me with a chuckle. â€Å"It could happen to anyone.† â€Å"Could† I repeated. â€Å"But it usually just happens to me.† He laughed again. His relaxed calm was only more amazing set in direct contrast with everyone else's reaction. I couldn't find any trace of anxiety in his face. He worked with quick, sure movements. The only sound besides our quiet breathing was the soft plink, plink as the tiny fragments of glass dropped one by one to the table. â€Å"How can you do this?† I demanded. â€Å"Even Alice and Esme† I trailed off, shaking my head in wonder. Though the rest of them had given up the traditional diet of vampires just as absolutely as Carlisle had, he was the only one who could bear the smell of my blood without suffering from the intense temptation. Clearly, this was much more difficult than he made it seem. â€Å"Years and years of practice,† he told me. â€Å"I barely notice the scent anymore.† â€Å"Do you think it would be harder if you took a vacation from the hospital for a long time. And weren't around any blood?† â€Å"Maybe.† He shrugged his shoulders, but his hands remained steady. â€Å"I've never felt the need for an extended holiday.† He flashed a brilliant smile in my direction. â€Å"I enjoy my work too much.† Plink, plink, plink. I was surprised at how much glass there seemed to be in my arm. I was tempted to glance at the growing pile, just to check the size, but I knew that idea would not be helpful to my no-vomiting strategy. â€Å"What is it that you enjoy?† I wondered. It didn't make sense to methe years of struggle and self-denial he must have spent to get to the point where he could endure this so easily. Besides, I wanted to keep him talking; the conversation kept my mind off the queasy feeling in my stomach. His dark eyes were calm and thoughtful as he answered. â€Å"Hmm. What I enjoy the very most is when my enhanced abilities let me save someone who would otherwise have been lost. It's pleasant knowing that, thanks to what I can do, some people's lives are better because I exist. Even the sense of smell is a useful diagnostic tool at times.† One side of his mouth pulled up in half a smile. I mulled that over while he poked around, making sure all the glass splinters were gone. Then he rummaged in his bag for new tools, and I tried not to picture a needle and thread. â€Å"You try very hard to make up for something that was never your fault,† I suggested while a new kind of tugging started at the edges of my skin. â€Å"What I mean is, it's not like you asked for this. You didn't choose this kind of life, and yet you have to work so hard to be good.† â€Å"I don't know that I'm making up for anything,† he disagreed lightly. â€Å"Like everything in life, I just had to decide what to do with what I was given.† â€Å"That makes it sound too easy.† He examined my arm again. â€Å"There,† he said, snipping a thread. â€Å"All done.† He wiped an oversized Q-tip, dripping with some syrup-colored liquid, thoroughly across the operation site. The smell was strange; it made my head spin. The syrup stained my skin. â€Å"In the beginning, though,† I pressed while he taped another long piece of gauze securely in place, sealing it to my skin. â€Å"Why did you even think to try a different way than the obvious one?† His lips turned up in a private smile. â€Å"Hasn't Edward told you this story?† â€Å"Yes. But I'm trying to understand what you were thinking† His face was suddenly serious again, and I wondered if his thoughts had gone to the same place that mine had. Wondering what I would be thinking whenI refused to think ifit was me. â€Å"You know my father was a clergyman,† he mused as he cleaned the table carefully, rubbing everything down with wet gauze, and then doing it again. The smell of alcohol burned in my nose. â€Å"He had a rather harsh view of the world, which I was already beginning to question before the time that I changed.† Carlisle put all the dirty gauze and the glass slivers into an empty crystal bowl. I didn't understand what he was doing, even when he lit the match. Then he threw it onto the alcohol-soaked fibers, and the sudden blaze made me jump. â€Å"Sorry,† he apologized. â€Å"That ought to do it So I didn't agree with my father's particular brand of faith. But never, in the nearly four hundred years now since I was born, have I ever seen anything to make me doubt whether God exists in some form or the other. Not even the reflection in the mirror.† I pretended to examine the dressing on my arm to hide my surprise at the direction our conversation had taken. Religion was the last thing I expected, all things considered. My own life was fairly devoid of belief. Charlie considered himself a Lutheran, because that's what his parents had been, but Sundays he worshipped by the river with a fishing pole in his hand. Renee tried out a church now and then, but, much like her brief affairs with tennis, pottery, yoga, and French classes, she moved on by the time I was aware of her newest fad. â€Å"I'm sure all this sounds a little bizarre, coming from a vampire.† He grinned, knowing how their casual use of that word never failed to shock me. â€Å"But I'm hoping that there is still a point to this life, even for us. It's a long shot, I'll admit,† he continued in an offhand voice. â€Å"By all accounts, we're damned regardless. But I hope, maybe foolishly, that we'll get some measure of credit for trying.† â€Å"I don't think that's foolish,† I mumbled. I couldn't imagine anyone, deity included, who wouldn't be impressed by Carlisle. Besides, the only kind of heaven I could appreciate would have to include Edward. â€Å"And I don't think anyone else would, either.† â€Å"Actually, you're the very first one to agree with me.† â€Å"The rest of them don't feel the same?† I asked, surprised, thinking of only one person in particular. Carlisle guessed the direction of my thoughts again. â€Å"Edward's with me up to a point. God and heaven exist and so does hell. But he doesn't believe there is an afterlife for our kind.† Carlisle's voice was very soft; he stared out the big window over the sink, into the darkness. â€Å"You see, he thinks we've lost our souls.† I immediately thought of Edward's words this afternoon: unless you want to dieor whatever it is that we do. The lightbulb flicked on over my head. â€Å"That's the real problem, isn't it?† I guessed. â€Å"That's why he's being so difficult about me.† Carlisle spoke slowly. â€Å"I look at my son. His strength, his goodness, the brightness that shines out of himand it only fuels that hope, that faith, more than ever. How could there not be more for one such as Edward?† I nodded in fervent agreement. â€Å"But if I believed as he does† He looked down at me with unfathomable eyes. â€Å"If you believed as he did. Could you take away his soul?† The way he phrased the question thwarted my answer. If he'd asked me whether I would risk my soul for Edward, the reply would be obvious. But would I risk Edward's soul? I pursed my lips unhappily. That wasn't a fair exchange. â€Å"You see the problem.† I shook my head, aware of the stubborn set of my chin. Carlisle sighed. â€Å"It's my choice,† I insisted. â€Å"It's his, too.† He held up his hand when he could see that I was about to argue. â€Å"Whether he is responsible for doing that to you.† â€Å"He's not the only one able to do it.† I eyed Carlisle speculatively. He laughed, abruptly lightening the mood. â€Å"Oh, no! You're going to have to work this out with him.†But then he sighed. â€Å"That's the one part I can never be sure of. I think, in most other ways, that I've done the best I could with what I had to work with. But was it right to doom the others to this life? I can't decide.† I didn't answer. I imagined what my life would be like if Carlisle had resisted the temptation to change his lonely existence and shuddered. â€Å"It was Edward's mother who made up my mind.† Carlisle's voice was almost a whisper. He stared unseeingly out the black windows. â€Å"His mother?† Whenever I'd asked Edward about his parents, he would merely say that they had died long ago, and his memories were vague. I realized Carlisle's memory of them, despite the brevity of their contact, would be perfectly clear. â€Å"Yes. Her name was Elizabeth. Elizabeth Masen. His father, Edward Senior, never regained consciousness in the hospital. He died in the first wave of the influenza. But Elizabeth was alert until almost the very end. Edward looks a great deal like hershe had that same strange bronze shade to her hair, and her eyes were exactly the same color green.† â€Å"His eyes were green?† I murmured, trying to picture it. â€Å"Yes† Carlisle's ocher eyes were a hundred years away now. â€Å"Elizabeth worried obsessively over her son. She hurt her own chances of survival trying to nurse him from her sickbed. I expected that he would go first, he was so much worse off than she was. When the end came for her, it was very quick. It was just after sunset, and I'd arrived to relieve the doctors who'd been working all day. That was a hard time to pretendthere was so much work to be done, and I had no need of rest. How I hated to go back to my house, to hide in the dark and pretend to sleep while so many were dying. â€Å"I went to check Elizabeth and her son first. I'd grown attachedalways a dangerous thing to do considering the fragile nature of humans. I could see at once that she'd taken a bad turn. The fever was raging out of control, and her body was too weak to fight anymore. â€Å"She didn't look weak, though, when she glared up at me from her cot. â€Å"Save him!' she commanded me in the hoarse voice that was all her throat could manage. â€Å"I'll do everything in my power,' I promised her, taking her hand. The fever was so high, she probably couldn't even tell how unnaturally cold mine felt. Everything felt cold to her skin. â€Å"You must,† she insisted, clutching at my hand with enough strength that I wondered if she wouldn't pull through the crisis after all. Her eyes were hard, like stones, like emeralds. ‘You must do everything in your power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward.† â€Å"It frightened me. She looked it me with those piercing eyes, and, for one instant, I felt certain that she knew my secret. Then the fever overwhelmed her, and she never regained consciousness. She died within an hour of making her demand. â€Å"I'd spent decades considering the idea of creating a companion for myself. Just one other creature who could really know me, rather than what I pretended to be. But I could never justify it to myselfdoing what had been done to me. â€Å"There Edward lay, dying. It was clear that he had only hours left. Beside him, his mother, her face somehow not yet peaceful, not even in death.† Carlisle saw it all again, his memory unblurred by the intervening century. I could see it clearly, too, as he spokethe despair of the hospital, the overwhelming atmosphere of death. Edward burning with fever, his life slipping away with each tick of the clock I shuddered again, and forced the picture from my mind. â€Å"Elizabeth's words echoed in my head. How could she guess what I could do? Could anyone really want that for her son? â€Å"I looked at Edward. Sick as he was, he was still beautiful. There was something pure and good about his face. The kind of face I would have wanted my son to have. â€Å"After all those years of indecision, I simply acted on a whim. I wheeled his mother to the morgue first, and then I came back for him. No one noticed that he was still breathing. There weren't enough hands, enough eyes, to keep track of half of what the patients needed. The morgue was emptyof the living, at least. I stole him out the back door, and carried him across the rooftops back to my home. â€Å"I wasn't sure what had to be done. I settled for recreating the wounds I'd received myself, so many centuries earlier in London. I felt bad about that later. It was more painful and lingering than necessary. â€Å"I wasn't sorry, though. I've never been sorry that I saved Edward.† He shook his head, coming back to the present. He smiled at me. â€Å"I suppose I should take you home now.† â€Å"I'll do that,† Edward said. He came through the shadowy dining room, walking slowly for him. His face was smooth, unreadable, but there was something wrong with his eyessomething he was trying very hard to hide. I felt a spasm of unease in my stomach. â€Å"Carlisle can take me,† I said. I looked down at my shirt; the light blue cotton was soaked and spotted with my blood. My right shoulder was covered in thick pink frosting. â€Å"I'm fine.† Edward's voice was unemotional. â€Å"You'll need to change anyway. You'd give Charlie a heart attack the way you look. I'll have Alice get you something.† He strode out the kitchen door again. I looked at Carlisle anxiously. â€Å"He's very upset.† â€Å"Yes,† Carlisle agreed. â€Å"Tonight is exactly the kind of thing that he fears the most. You being put in danger, because of what we are.† â€Å"It's not his fault.† â€Å"It's not yours, either.† I looked away from his wise, beautiful eyes. I couldn't agree with that. Carlisle offered me his hand and helped me up from the table. I followed him out into the main room. Esme had come back; she was mopping the floor where I'd fallenwith straight bleach from the smell of it. â€Å"Esme, let me do that.† I could feel that my face was bright red again. â€Å"I'm already done.† She smiled up at me. â€Å"How do you feel?† â€Å"I'm fine,† I assured her. â€Å"Carlisle sews faster than any other doctor I've had.† They both chuckled. Alice and Edward came in the back doors. Alice hurried to my side, but Edward hung back, his face indecipherable. â€Å"C'mon,† Alice said. â€Å"I'll get you something less macabre to wear.† She found me a shirt of Esme's that was close to the same color mine had been. Charlie wouldn't notice, I was sure. The long white bandage on my arm didn't look nearly as serious when I was no longer spattered in gore. Charlie was never surprised to see me bandaged. â€Å"Alice,† I whispered as she headed back to the door. â€Å"Yes?† She kept her voice low, too, and looked at me curiously, her head cocked to the side. â€Å"How bad is it?† I couldn't be sure if my whispering was a wasted effort. Even though we were upstairs, with the door closed, perhaps he could hear me. Her face tensed. â€Å"I'm not sure yet.† â€Å"How's Jasper?† She sighed. â€Å"He's very unhappy with himself. It's all so much more of challenge for him, and he hates feeling weak.† â€Å"It's not his fault. You'll tell him that I'm not mad at him, not at all, won't you?† â€Å"Of course.† Edward was waiting for me by the front door. As I got to the bottom of the staircase, he held it open without a word. â€Å"Take your things!† Alice cried as I walked warily toward Edward. She scooped up the two packages, one half-opened, and my camera from under the piano, and pressed them into my good arm. â€Å"You can thank me later, when you've opened them.† Esme and Carlisle both said a quiet goodnight. I could see them stealing quick glances at their impassive son, much like I was. It was a relief to be outside; I hurried past the lanterns and the roses, now unwelcome reminders. Edward kept pace with me silently. He opened the passenget side for me, and I climbed in without complaint. On the dashboard was a big red ribbon, stuck to the new stereo. I pulled it off, throwing it to the floor. As Edward slid into the other side, I kicked the ribbon under my seat. He didn't look at me or the stereo. Neither of us switched it on, and the silence was somehow intensified by the sudden thunder of the engine. He drove too fast down the dark, serpentine lane. The silence was making me insane. â€Å"Say something,† I finally begged as he turned onto the freeway. â€Å"What do you want me to say?† he asked in a detached voice. I cringed at his remoteness. ‘Tell me you forgive me.† That brought a flicker of life to his facea flicker of anger. â€Å"Forgive you? For what?† â€Å"If I'd been more careful, nothing would have happened.† â€Å"Bella, you gave yourself a paper cutthat hardly deserves the death penalty.† â€Å"It's still my fault.† My words opened up the floodgate. â€Å"Your fault? If you'd cut yourself at Mike Newton's house, with Jessica there and Angela and your other normal friends, the worst that could possibly have happened would be what? Maybe they couldn't find you a bandage? If you'd tripped and knocked over a pile of glass plates on your ownwithout someone throwing you into themeven then, what's the worst? You'd get blood on the seats when they drove you to the emergency room? Mike Newton could have held your hand while they stitched you upand he wouldn't be righting the urge to kill you the whole time he was there. Don't try to take any of this on yourself, Bella. It will only make me more disgusted with myself.† â€Å"How the hell did Mike Newton end up in this conversation?† I demanded. â€Å"Mike Newton ended up in this conversation because Mike Newton would be a hell of a lot healthier for you to be with,† he growled. â€Å"I'd rather die than be with Mike Newton,† I protested. â€Å"I'd rather die than be with anyone but you.† â€Å"Don't be melodramatic, please.† â€Å"Well then, don't you be ridiculous.† He didn't answer. He glared through the windshield, his expression black. I racked my brain for some way to salvage the evening. When we pulled up in front of my house, I still hadn't come up with anything. He killed the engine, but his hands stayed clenched around the steering wheel. â€Å"Will you stay tonight?† I asked. â€Å"I should go home.† The last thing I wanted was for him to go wallow in remorse. â€Å"For my birthday,† I pressed. â€Å"You can't have it both wayseither you want people to ignore your birthday or you don't. One or the other.† His voice was stern, but not .is serious as before. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. â€Å"Okay. I've decided that I don't want you to ignore my birthday. I'll see you upstairs.† I hopped out, reaching back in for my packages. He frowned. â€Å"You don't have to take those.† â€Å"I want them,† I responded automatically, and then wondered if he was using reverse psychology. â€Å"No, you don't. Carlisle and Esme spent money on you.† â€Å"I'll live.† I tucked the presents awkwardly under my good arm and slammed the door behind me. He was out of the truck and by my side in less than a second. â€Å"Let me carry them, at least.† he said as he took them away. â€Å"I'll be in your room.† I smiled. â€Å"Thanks.† â€Å"Happy birthday,† he sighed, and leaned down to touch his lips to mine. I reached up on my toes to make the kiss last longer when he pulled away. He smiled my favorite crooked smile, and then he disappeared into the darkness. The game was still on; as soon as I walked through the front door I could hear the announcer rambling over the babble of the crowd. â€Å"Bell?† Charlie called. â€Å"Hey, Dad,† I said as I came around the corner. I held my arm close to my side. The slight pressure burned, and I wrinkled my nose. The anesthetic was apparently losing its effectiveness. â€Å"How was it?† Charlie lounged across the sofa with his bare feet propped up on the arm. What was left of his curly brown hair was crushed flat on one side. â€Å"Alice went overboard. Flowers, cake, candles, presentsthe whole bit.† â€Å"What did they get you?† â€Å"A stereo for my truck.† And various unknowns. â€Å"Wow.† â€Å"Yeah,† I agreed. â€Å"Well, I'm calling it a night.† â€Å"I'll see you in the morning.† I waved. â€Å"See ya.† â€Å"What happened to your arm?† I flushed and cursed silently. â€Å"I tripped. It's nothing.† â€Å"Bella,† he sighed, shaking his head. â€Å"Goodnight, Dad.† I hurried up to the bathroom, where I kept my pajamas for just such nights as these. I shrugged into the matching tank top and cotton pants that I'd gotten to replace the holey sweats I used to wear to bed, wincing as the movement pulled at the stitches. I washed my face one-handed, brushed my teeth, and then skipped to my room. He was sitting in the center of my bed, toying idly with one of the silver boxes. â€Å"Hi,† he said. His voice was sad. He was wallowing. I went to the bed, pushed the presents out of his hands, and climbed into his lap. â€Å"Hi.† I snuggled into his stone chest. â€Å"Can I open my presents now?† â€Å"Where did the enthusiasm come from?† he wondered. â€Å"You made me curious.† I picked up the long flat rectangle that must have been from Carlisle and Esme. â€Å"Allow me,† he suggested. He took the gift from my hand and tore the silver paper off with one fluid movement. He handed the rectangular white box back to me. â€Å"Are you sure I can handle lifting the lid?† I muttered, but he ignored me. Inside the box was a long thick piece of paper with an overwhelming amount of fine print. It took me a minute to get the gist of the information. â€Å"We're going to Jacksonville?† And I was excited, in spite of myself. It was a voucher for plane tickets, for both me and Edward. â€Å"That's the idea.† â€Å"I can't believe it. Renee is going to flip! You don't mind, though, do you? It's sunny, you'll have to stay inside all day.† â€Å"I think I can handle it,† he said, and then frowned. â€Å"If I'd had any idea that you could respond to a gift this appropriately, I would have made you open it in front of Carlisle and Esme. I thought you'd complain.† â€Å"Well, of course it's too much. But I get to take you with me!† He chuckled. â€Å"Now I wish I'd spent money on your present. I didn't realize that you were capable of being reasonable.† I set the tickets aside and reached for his present, my curiosity rekindled. He took it from me and unwrapped it like the first one. He handed back a clear CD jewel case, with a blank silver CD inside. â€Å"What is it?† I asked, perplexed. He didn't say anything; he took the CD and reached around me to put it in the CD player on the bedside table. He hit play, and we waited in silence. Then the music began. I listened, speechless and wide-eyed. I knew he was waiting for my reaction, but I couldn't talk. Tears welled up, and I reached up to wipe them away before they could spill over. â€Å"Does your arm hurt?† he asked anxiously. â€Å"No, it's not my arm. It's beautiful, Edward. You couldn't have given me anything I would love more. I can't believe it.† I shut up, so I could listen. It was his music, his compositions. The first piece on the CD was my lullaby. â€Å"I didn't think you would let me get a piano so I could play for you here,† he explained. â€Å"You're right.† â€Å"How does your arm feel?† â€Å"Just fine.† Actually, it was starting to blaze under the bandage. I wanted ice. I would have settled for his hand, but that would have given me away. â€Å"I'll get you some Tylenol.† â€Å"I don't need anything,† I protested, but he slid me off his lap and headed for the door. â€Å"Charlie,† I hissed. Charlie wasn't exactly aware that Edward frequently stayed over. In fact, he would have a stroke if that fact were brought to his attention. But I didn't feel too guilty for deceiving him It wasn't as if we were up to anything he wouldn't want me to be up to. Edward and his rules â€Å"He won't catch me,† Edward promised as he disappeared silently out the door . . and returned, catching the door before it had swung back to touch the frame. He had the glass from the bathroom and the bottle of pills in one hand. I took the pills he handed me without arguingI knew I would lose the argument And my arm really was starting to bother me. My lullaby continued, soft and lovely, in the background. â€Å"It's late,† Edward noted. He scooped me up off the bed with one arm, and pulled the cover back with the other. He put me down with my head on my pillow and tucked the quilt around me. He lay down next to meon top of the blanket so I wouldn't get chilledand put his arm over me. I leaned my head against his shoulder and sighed happily. â€Å"Thanks again,† I whispered. â€Å"You're welcome.† It was quiet for a long moment as I listened to my lullaby drift to a close. Another song began. I recognized Esme's favorite. â€Å"What are you thinking about?'† I wondered in a whisper. He hesitated for a second before he told me. â€Å"I was thinking about right and wrong, actually.† I felt a chill tingle along my spine. â€Å"Remember how I decided that I wanted you to not ignore my birthday?† I asked quickly, hoping it wasn't too clear that I was trying to distract him. â€Å"Yes,† he agreed, wary. â€Å"Well, I was thinking, since it's still my birthday, that I'd like you to kiss me again.† â€Å"You're greedy tonight.† â€Å"Yes, I ambut please, don't do anything you don't want to do,† I added, piqued. He laughed, and then sighed. â€Å"Heaven forbid that I should do anything I don't want to do,† he said in a strangely desperate tone as he put his hand under my chin and pulled my face up to his. The kiss began much the same as usualEdward was as careful as ever, and my heart began to overreact like it always did. And then something seemed to change. Suddenly his lips became much more urgent, his free hand twisted into my hair and held my face securely to his. And, though my hands tangled in his hair, too, and though I was clearly beginning to cross his cautious lines, for once he didn't stop me. His body was cold through the thin quilt, but I crushed myself against him eagerly. When he stopped it was abrupt; he pushed me away with gentle, firm hands. I collapsed back onto my pillow, gasping, my head spinning. Something tugged at my memory, elusive, on the edges. â€Å"Sorry,† he said, and he was breathless, too. â€Å"That was out of line.† â€Å"I don't mind,† I panted. He frowned at me in the darkness. â€Å"Try to sleep. Bella.† â€Å"No, I want you to kiss me again.† â€Å"You're overestimating my self-control.† â€Å"Which is tempting you more, my blood or my body?† I challenged. â€Å"It's a tie.† He grinned briefly in spite of himself, and then was serious again. â€Å"Now. why don't you stop pushing your luck and go to sleep?† â€Å"Fine,† I agreed, snuggling closer to him. I really did feel exhausted. It had been a long day in so many ways, yet I felt no sense of relief at its end. Almost as if something worse was coming tomorrow. It was a silly premonitionwhat could be worse than today?' Just the shock catching up with me, no doubt. Trying to be sneaky about it, I pressed my injured arm against his shoulder, so his cool skin would sooth the burning. It felt better at once. I was halfway asleep, maybe more, when I realized what his kiss had reminded me of: last spring, when he'd had to leave me to throw James off my trail, Edward had kissed me goodbye, not knowing whenor ifwe would see each other again. This kiss had the same almost painful edge for some reason I couldn't imagine. I shuddered into unconsciousness, as if I were already having a nightmare.

Cultural Perspectives in Education Essay

The word ‘Culture’ refers to civilization or human activity. It can also refer to universal human capability to categorize skills, and to train and convey them characteristically. Therefore, one can say that Culture evolves over a period of time in response to adaptive challenges. What activities are carried out, who should participate, why they are valued and the rules of interaction are coded into the cultural models. There are different ways to educate, express or reveal knowledge to a student. The student’s education very much depends upon the teacher’s philosophy of education. This philosophical point of view appears to be true that could bring a negative influence in the classroom, no matter what syllabus is designed for the student. The students possess different qualities and beliefs that teachers should realize and learn to adapt to in the classroom. If teachers are not able to go beyond the boundaries of social class, religion, race, creed, gender, sex, disability or cultural background, then the focus of the students will also turn heavily upon differences and the classification of students as special needs or underachiever, thus building insensitive pre-expectations toward students in the classroom. â€Å"The primary goal of education is to show students different points of view and encourage them to evaluate their own beliefs. The teacher should help the students to appreciate how one’s observations and interpretations are influenced by social identity and background†. Chang, H. (1993). Students should be allowed to feel free to voice an opinion and empowered to defend it. A student is able to focus on and enjoy learning more when the school and classroom make him feel safe-comfortable with himself and with his surrounding. The learning situation should be made culturally neutral by keeping in mind the potential barriers and obstacles that each student may have. Taking this into account Marda Steffey (2001) suggests a four point motivational framework for culturally open teaching: 1. Establishing inclusion—norms, procedures, and structures woven together to form a learning context in which all learners and teachers feel respected by and connected to one another. 2. Developing attitude—â€Å"norms, procedures and structures that create through relevance and choice a favorable disposition among learners and teachers toward the learning experience or learning goal. 3. Enhancing meaning—norms, procedures, and structures that expand, refine, or increase the complexity of what is learned in a way that matters to learners, includes their values and purposes, and contributes to a critical consciousness. 4. Engendering competence—norms, procedures, and structures that create an understanding for learners of how they are or can be effective in learning something of personal value†. (Nawang, 1999) The main idea of the four points is that when student and teachers find themselves submerged in a unique world of the classroom, the interaction of culture is invaluable for the success of the learning process. Solomon, B. B. (1991). Teacher should recognize any biases or stereotypes in the class room, â€Å"by treating each student as an individual, and respect each student for whom he or she is. Amend any language practices or examples that exclude or degrade any group, should be aware of how students feel about the cultural climate in the classroom†. (Woolbright, 1989) A productive education must start with an awareness of these issues and some basic schemes for overcoming them. Although a variety of teachings can be fruitful, it seems especially cooperative to offer an atmosphere where students can easily hold an open discussion rather than class session in which a correct answer is required. True open discussion will send a message of authority between equal students who have something substantial to add to a common endeavor. Sharing the facts and principles of one’s discipline with students is very important as that helps to prepare an environment of comfort, trust and joint respect. Therefore, such an environment makes it possible for people to exchange ideas and thoughts on complex and often terrifying issues. It opens a way for students to carry out a common ground of joint practices and respect which can bind students together and at the same time make it easier for them to understand and observe many differences. The teacher should not only establish a content of diversity but a procedure that creates and demonstrate appreciation of diversity. It is important to keep in mind that students always observe and learn their teachers’ behavior as well as their expressions. The classroom environment not only represent the fundamental value of appreciation of diversity of cultures nevertheless it also capitulate great rewards in terms of vital thinking skills, especially the aptitude to value sophisticated multiple point of views on complex rational and ethical issues. The school or college should recognize all of the various types of diversities, whether it is cultural or not. Students should understand when they go their classroom that they will be interacting with many different types of students from all walks all of life. Levinson, B. A. , and Holland, D. (1996). They should understand that they are all in this facility for a reason and that it doesn’t matter what they look like or what language they speak, they need to cooperate to make their class environment more conducive to learning. It is very unfortunate to say that not much improvement in this has been made around the world except few countries, while in rest there is still school and colleges where cultural factors are given preferences. Every discipline is influenced by the inequity of power that exists across racial and cultural groups, between genders, and among other socially created classes of difference. In spite of advances in race and cultural relations, gender equality, and religious tolerance, significant documented differences continues to exist around the world. In order to gain a true moderate education, school administration should honor diversity of cultures. It should recognize holidays of other ethnicities and always study new and interesting ways of life. The students of the respective schools and colleges should â€Å"love learning about other cultures and how they interact with one another†. (Harold, 2006) The students should be allowed to do arts and projects that are representatives of other cultures and take great pride in the fact that they now have knowledge of their brothers and sisters around the world. Educators have a responsibility to assist the people who are privileged enough to be students in becoming aware of the inequalities around them. Therefore, each educator should work to infuse each class with the diverse voices that contributed to the knowledge base of the discipline. References Chang, H. (1993) Affirming Children’s Roots: Cultural and Linguistic Diversity in Early Care and Education: California Tomorrow. Hodgkinson, Harold L. (2006) Education in Social and Cultural Perspectives: Prentice-Hall Levinson, B. A. , and Holland, D. (1996). The cultural production of the educated person: An introduction. In B. A. Levinson, D. Foley, and D. Holland (Eds. ), Albany: SUNY Press. Phuntsog, Nawang. Magic of culturally responsive pedagogy: In search of the Genie’s lamp in multicultural education. Teacher Education Quarterly, Summer 1999 Solomon, B. B. (1991) Impediments to Teaching a Culturally Diverse Undergraduate Population: Kendall/Hunt Publishing. Woolbright, C. (Ed. ). (1989) Valuing Diversity on Campus: A Multicultural Approach. Bloomington, Ind. : Association of College Unions-International.

Integrated Natural Sciences(Biology, Physic's,Chemsitry,Human Anatomy) Assignment

Integrated Natural Sciences(Biology, Physic's,Chemsitry,Human Anatomy) - Assignment Example Hence it is very helpful and useful to study science using an integrated approach. 2. Explain the LIMITATIONS of science and how science differs from other areas such as art and religion (Science’s domain is based on evidence; whereas religion and art domain’s center upon belief, aesthetics, etc) Science demands proof whereas the domain of religion and art depend upon beliefs and aesthetics. That is why questions like ‘what is the purpose of life?’ or ‘Does God exist?’ cannot be researched by science. 2. Explain what happens to the gravitational force when there is a change in mass and/or distance. The gravitational force increases/decreases proportionally with the change in mass but is inversely proportional to the square of the distance. 1. Explain the role of gravity in the formation of solar systems and galaxies. Stars start of as a cloud of gas and dust. Due to gravitational forces they clump together and contract. This contraction increases the temperatures and initiates nuclear fusion. Similarly the left over materials clump together to form planets. 3. Why does the same side of the Moon always face the Earth? The gravitational pull from the earth slows down the rotation of the moon. The moon revolves around at the same speed at which it is orbiting and hence the same side of the moon always faces the earth. 4. Explain the relationship between thermal energy and gravitational force in a star’s life cycle. The greater the gravitational pull, the greater is the pressure experiences by the gases which increases their thermal energy. Both the forces are proportional to the product of their charge and mass respectively and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. The difference between these two is that gravitational force is always attractive while electrical force may be attractive or repulsive. In transverse waves, the wave propagates perpendicular to the direction of motion, for example,

Technology Acceptance factors of Cloud Computing Assignment

Technology Acceptance factors of Cloud Computing - Assignment Example This addition of behavioural taste to information system requires systems to be developed consideration large number of factors that are expected to have direct or indirect impact on human acceptance and usage of technology. For the purpose, different models have been devised highlighting different factors that directly influence the process of technology acceptance and adoption. Some of the models and associated factors are as follow: Technology Acceptance Model is the pioneer in determining the fact that acceptance of system receives direct influence from the motivation level which in turn is influenced by large number of factors in the external environment. TAM 1 has highlighted two factors which are: Perceived usefulness in general is defined as the probability in terms of future or perspective user’s ability that using a new technological system or application will enhance user’s ability to perform better or giving optimum results (Davis, Bagozzi, and Warshaw, 1989). Moreover, users are more likely to adopt those technologies from which there is expectation that it will increase their performances in terms of carrying out work in their walks of life. Perceived ease of use is another factor that affects the use of technology in teaching and learning environments (Davis, 1989). It deals with the future user’s perception or an expectation that his desired targeted system is likely to be free from efforts and hassles (King and Re, 2006). It is usually defined as the ability of an individual in order to carry out some work or taking some decision is mainly influenced by others (in general people who are closer to him). Or in other words the action or decision that particular individual opt to take because of his perception of what other people might think of him is called subjective norm (Fishbein and Ajzen 1975, p.

Slip Sliding Away Assignment Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 2000 words

Slip Sliding Away - Assignment Example These issues are equally important because ethics underlies any kind of good behavior that the society may require. It is therefore equally important to consider teaching the students ethical behaviors before any other thing. 3. The instructors or the administration should ensure that the students are trained on how to engage in ethical behaviors. The instructors should train the students on steps to take if they want to be good. It will require participatory learning and application of personal examples. As such, the students should be encouraged to apply real-life examples or experiences as they try to learn the steps towards ethical behavior. The instructors and the administration are advised to stop assuming the problem and take action. There must be a need to inform the students of the seriousness of the problem and the schools must set guidelines on how the instructors should conduct exams. 1. The last two paragraphs in this essay form a successful conclusion of the writer’s argument. The writer started with introducing his argument by using relevant examples. He gave a long history of Haiti using relevant historical occurrences as the examples for his argument. Therefore, the writer has effectively used the technique of inference from relevant examples to build his argument. He introduces the nature of the problem he wants to discuss first and follows it with a long narration of these relevant examples in a clear and logical manner. The second last paragraph summarizes his argument as he brought it out in his examples. He restates his main point and argues it out in summary. This paragraph also gives an alternative solution to the Haiti, thus it becomes a very important part of the essay in that instead of just arguing against an idea, the writer also gives his point of view of what can be a better approach to Haiti’s problems.  

Ethics and Professionalism in Medicine-Journal Essay

Ethics and Professionalism in Medicine-Journal - Essay Example In addition, when the time arrives to be finally seen to the doctor, the doctor is in sort of a hurry. Professionalism seems to be on the verge of being none at all in such situations. Hence, I posed a question concerning the care of the patient as to why they are neglected. The answer was that the patient is concerned about himself alone while, the doctor and the nurse also have other patients to tend to. This becomes stressful and although they try to balance it in every way there comes a time when it just slips out of their control. Although I didn’t find this explanation helpful, it can be justifiable. Relating another example, Cindy, a nurse was confused as to why a patient was behaving the way he was but instead of stopping and asking, she thought it better to send him for his tests. As she didn’t stop and think the reason behind the patient’s particular behavior; this makes the patient defensive and unwilling in return. There can be several reasons behind verbally abusive patient; it might be the pain, a psychological aspect or it can be the injury itself. It is important for the doctor and nurse to be aware of the patients’ weaknesses. Another aspect of ethics dangling on the borderline, I witnessed was that in some cases, the patient demanded as to why the information about him was given to his family without his consent. Or why he wasn’t aware of the disease he had. There are no steadfast rules regarding that but a viewpoint suggest that the patient has the right to know and to hold out information to anyone he want to. Here, ethics also deal with the coding that is done in order to safeguard a patient’s identity. In the hospital, I saw that coding is better than the conventional system as it gives assurance to the patient. A particular case which stuck in my mind was that a patient was willing to go through a surgery not as yet an area of expertise for the doctor. There were high risks but the patient was adamant. They finally decided

Texas Policy Report Term Paper Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Texas Policy Report - Term Paper Example Governor Rick Perry signed the Texas bill 5 during a special session. Rick Perry convened the special session after Senator Wendy Davis conducted a filibuster in an attempt to interfere with signing of the abortion bill. Rick Perry signed the bill in a ceremony attended by various media groups, lobbyists and legislators. Perry and other supporters of the abortion bill had believed that unborn children experience immense pain during abortion. Governor Perry had proposed the abortion bill on May 27, 2013 though it became unsuccessful in regular senate sessions. However, Wendy and other activists argued that illegalizing abortion would had fatal consequences to the mother. Wendy explained her protest through her experience where she discussed abortion case of her daughter (The State of Texas 1). Wendy had tried several times to stop law provisions that restrict abortion including 2012 debates. She was especially concerned about part of abortion bill that banned abortion after 20 weeks of pregnancy. Consequently, during the special session when the Perry was to sign the abortion bill in June 25, 2013, Wendy Davis reported to the media that she would conduct a filibuster. The filibuster would aim at preventing final process of adopting abortion bill. Wendy attracted social media debate following her emotional speech where she discussed heart-rending disclosures about her pregnancy experiences. However, Governor Perry had promised citizens six months before the 25 June 2013 session that he would sign laws against abortion. Perry had stated that unborn babies deserved the legal rights to sound health besides constitutional protection. He had believed that abortion bill would form the foundation on Texas culture of respect for life. House bill 2 signed by Governor Perry had provisions that bans abortion after 20 weeks of pregnancy. In addition, House of Bill 2 demands that clinics that perform abortion be of similar health

Ethical Dilemma Case Study Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

Ethical Dilemma - Case Study Example Linet came alone to the clinic, though had been married for 7 years and the last born was 3 years of age. At the clinic, she stated that her husband did not know of her pregnancy as they had agreed 3 years ago not to have other children due to their financial difficulties. Linet was determined to have another child despite her husband’s ignorance on the issue. When it came to HIV testing recommended as part of routine prenatal care, Susan declined saying they had both been tested with her husband before entering their marriage 7 years ago. She claims that she her first three children had been home delivered, and it is because of her complication that resulted in her last pregnancy, pre-eclampsia, that she decided to start attending clinics. Several weeks later, the nurse practitioner receives another new patient, â€Å"Peter Wanyama.† The patient states that he is concerned about occurrence of thrush symptoms, which had originally been treated 4 months ago. Peter states that he is HIV positive and had discovered his status 2 years ago. He is a long distance truck driver and sometimes sleeps out. He states that he always has protected sex with his wife. He says that in the past 1 year, he had been visiting an infectious disease specialist who lived 150 miles from where he lives. He states that he had consulted his specialist about th e recurrence of his symptom, of which he recommended Peter to seek immediate attention in the town which he lived. 2. Include one ethical principle and one law that could be violated and whether the violation would constitute a civil or criminal act based on facts in the law. The nurse on pulling the file of Linet Wanyama realized that Peter Wanyama was indeed her husband. The nurse practitioner became torn on this scenario as she had an ethical responsibility of informing Linet Wanyama of her need to have an HIV test due to a risk of transmission from her husband who was HIV positive (Lipe, 2008). Furthermore, Linet was living in a world where she believed her husband to be faithful to her when he went on long distance journeys (Lipe, 2008). In addition, informing Linet would help her make a decision on whether to have the child or not as the risk of mother to child transmission would be existing. Furthermore, such a disclosure would help in protecting the unborn child (White, 2008 ). Next, in informing Peter of his wife’s secret and coming open about his status to his wife, would at least help them make a decision as a family whether to continue with the pregnancy or not (Timby, 2009). The nurse got herself in such an ethical dilemma as in doing one right thing, would resulting in breaking some of the ethical rules which the medical practice stood by (White, 2010). If the nurse decided to inform the Linet about Peter’s HIV status, then he would have gone against the medical code of ethics of confidentiality. Nurse practitioners are often required to keep information about their patient’s secret (Martin, 2010). Going against one’s confidentiality usually leads to civil lawsuit (Janie, 2012). A nurse can be sued and even lose her job and certificate from the medical board in case of such a lawsuit. But in this scenario, in trying to keep quiet, would only result to more harm to the family (Daniels, 2009). If Linet is not informed for instance, she may not know her HIV status and hence not get enrolled in taking HAART; therefore increasing the chance of HIV related

British and American Comedy Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 1750 words

British and American Comedy - Essay Example Bridget gets stuck between Daniel’s attractive personality and Mark’s close associations with her. This dilemma of Bridget gets solved through the information she learns from her mother about the real truth of the conflict between Daniel and Mark. Bridget learns that Daniel owing to his flirting character had contributed to breaking the relationship between Mark and Mark’s wife. Thus successfully coming out of the dilemma she decides to stay on with Mark (Maguire, 2001). Dilemma to Comedy In my perception, Bridget Jones’s Diary is truly a romantic comedy. Bridget in her relationship with the two people Daniel and Mark shows a reflection of good amount of emotion and romance, which culminates to putting her into dilemma. The movie in the midst of a romantic whirlpool becomes successful in portraying a comedian character of Bridget Jones. Bridget who frequently takes into alcohol and cigarettes takes the pledge to reduce her overweight. The way Bridget recor ds the same in her diary attracts attention in making it as one of best comedy films. Further, the film has employed many funny dialogues, which owing to their simplicity and straightforwardness made it have a comedy appeal. The flirting activities, which Bridget carries on out of her fantasy for her boss, Daniel Cleaver, also encourage a sense of comic actions. The comedy is best exposed in a boat scene where Daniel in an endeavor to balance himself between two boats one run by him and the other by Bridget loses balance and eventually falls into water. Bridget Jones Diary earns success in becoming a comedian film also because of the way the characters are portrayed in the movie. Bridget’s character enacted by Renee Zellweger has become the main... This essay stresses that  Bridget Jones is stuck in a real dilemma for the existence of two men in her life, Daniel and Mark. Daniel turns out to be her boss and Mark is the person whom she meets at the Christmas Party hosted by her parents. Bridget Jones in the initial stage in more busy involved in a relationship with Daniel Cleaver who also reflects a kind of possessiveness over girls and woman. Bridget despite knowing the fact that Daniel is an occasional flirter continues to share a strong relationship with him by going to dates.  According to the paper findings  the main roles in the movie Some Like It Hot is played by Marilyn Monroe, Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon. Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon in the movie play the roles of two musicians who were struggling to settle their career and earn a better livelihood. The names of the musicians, which Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon portray in the movie, are that of Joe and Jerry. However, these people in a search for a better life and h ave become the center of chase having seen a murder make an endeavor to flee to Florida. The uniqueness in the portrayal of their character involves the turnaround where these two persons, Joe and Jerry decide to hide their original identity and join a musical band group maintained by girls. Joe and Jerry in their disguise name themselves as Josephine and Geraldine respectively. Marilyn Monroe on the other hand known as ‘Sugar Kane’ in the movie plays the role of a principal vocalist and plays a musical instrument for the band.

Francisco Goya’s Third of May Essay Example for Free

Francisco Goya’s Third of May Essay Francisco Goya’s ‘The third of May’ was an 1814 painting of Francisco de Goya depicting the execution of the Spanish citizenry resulting from the fighting in the Puerto del Sol area of Madrid. Don Gray in his article Art Essays, Art Criticism Poems pointed out that, the subject of the painting is the dreadfulness of the execution in which Goya has grouped his picture in four different sets namely, those about to be shot, those already dead, the firing squad, and those about to be shot. The painting was done in the context of the aftermath of the popular uprising in Madrid with its background against the French invasion and the monarchic crises it provoked between Charles IV and his son Ferdinand. The title â€Å"The Third of May† simply refers to the fateful days of 2 and 3 of May 1808, which was a Spanish uprising against French invaders. As the riots cleared up, French executioner rounded up the ringleaders for execution but as it may be inevitable, many civilians were said to be included in the infamous firing squad of more than eighty peasants on the predawn of the third of may in 1808 at Principe Pio hill, in Madrid. Historical Issues that may have Influenced the Context of the Work Francisco de Goya was one of the greatest Spanish painters along with El Greco and Diego velasques. Goya’s Third of May depicts the brutal picture where the Spaniards who fought against French-led were executed on the Principe Pio, a remote hill just outside of Madrid. Mary Connell describes the uprising that took place on the second of May. The Spaniards were armed with scissors, spoons, knives, and a few firearms . By mid afternoon the revolt was over but the French were determined to set an example so that the Spanish would not again attempt such a revolt. French soldiers executed eighty-three peasants during the pre-dawn of third of May. This disgusted Goya, feeling that the French liberal reform he had been so pleased at first, had accomplished nothing lasting, as many people had died and suffered as a consequence of the war. Thus, according to Connell, Goya’s work was not meant to be beautiful, but is supposed to be horrifying to frighten the viewer. Connell emphasized that Goya’s purpose within the painting was not to blame the French but to point out the faceless and mechanical forces of war blindly killing people. The painting also depicts how war is horrible and the impact of violence on humanity, which demonstrates that war is always wrong and generate all kinds of evils. Thus, Connell aptly stated that Goya was hoping to persuade people to resort to war in no way at all . The impact of the brutality of the war had made great influence on the â€Å"Third of May† as the painting clearly conveys the horror of war through violence and death. There are some other interpretation of the characters of the painting such as the man in white whose both arms stretched out, said to be resembling Christ sacrificing his life on the cross, the man on the white seemed to be bravely welcoming death by sacrificing himself which seem to portrayed good and evil, with the French troops representing the evil and the dark side of the war. Social Issues that may have influenced the Work Among the social issues that confronted Goya prior to his magnificent work, The Third of May was his loyalty to the French during the occupation. James Voorhies of the Department of European Paintings, The metropolitan Museum of Art, noted that when Goya was questioned about his loyalty to the occupiers, he demonstrated his loyalty to Spain by commemorating Spain’s uprising against the French rule in two paintings: The Second of May and The Third of May. Thus, the social pressure on Goya was that his allegiance to Spain was under question. His desire to prove his allegiance to the Spanish monarchy has led him to commemorate the fateful days two days of May 1808. Regarding the commemoration of that particular incident, Christopher John Murray pointed out that, Goya’s paintings were designed as part of the celebrations of the return of Ferdinand VII to Madrid. As mentioned earlier, the Third of May was painted by Goya to prove his allegiance to the Spanish Monarch in view of social pressures questioning his loyalty to Spain. Murray however, goes deeper than this issue of loyalty. He stated that although the painting has become an iconic image of repression, popular martyrdom, and the horrors of civil strife, in which, Goya intended the message to remind the people of the horrors and violence that war brings, but in modern times, Goya’s work has been viewed being not officially commissioned, but he proposed it as a project, as he was in precarious financial situation, and he wanted to gain favor with the regime of Fernando VII to escape being prosecuted for having collaborated with the Napoleonic occupation. To sum up the social issues that may have influenced the making of the ‘The Third of May,’ are, first, is the issue of collaboration with Napoleonic occupation in which Goya has to prove his allegiance to the Spanish Monarch. The influence of this is seen in Goya’s depiction of good and evil. The good is represented by the martyr and those who are about to face their death through firing squad, while the bad is portrayed by the French soldiers. By this Goya is trying to prove that he is willing to highlight the evils of the Napoleonic occupation. The second is that he intended to paint day two and day three of May, which was for the commemoration of the horrors of war, but it was also intended to please the newly restored king to gain favor in order to avoid possible prosecution due to his collaboration with the Napoleonic rule. Thus, according to Murray, although the paintings in effect are historical paintings commemorating recent events, they are devoid of the element of heroism. Murray contends that there is no evidence that Goya had witnessed the incident, thus it is clear that the third of May is â€Å"a highly imagined and constructed painting. Regardless of the issues surrounding the painting of the â€Å"The Third of May’ Goya has successfully portrayed what he wanted to put on canvas. The Third of May is a powerful reminiscent that war is violent and a waste of life on both sides. The painting is very attractive because of Goya’s brilliant use of colors to emphasize what he wanted the view to read in the painting. What are the Critical issues that may have influenced the context of Goya’s work? There were perhaps a few critical issues that influenced the context of Goya’s work, The Third of May. Among these issues were his deteriorating health and his allegiance to Spain in question. Kimberly Court cited in her article entitled â€Å"Goya’s Black Paintings Harsh, but Honest† that the resulting atrocities on the Iberian Peninsula from 1808 to 1814 forever staining Goya’s insight of Humanity . The uprising that followed after the coronation of King Joseph Bonaparte has persisted through guerilla warfare and continued its war against the Napoleonic armies killing more than three hundred French citizens and capturing French ship. Court pointed out that, the guerrilla warfare was the inspiration behind Goya’s Los Desastres de la Guera or The Disasters of War in English. Goya was afflicted with serious illness, which according to James G. Hollandsworth the popular explanation of Goya’s illness is that he was suffering from syphilis. Hollandswoth asserts that after this illness in 1789, Goya’s paintings reflected a harsh, cynical view of the world. However, despite of his illness, Polyxeni Potter noted that Goya was an artist opposite and contradiction and his paintings incites horror and gladness, sadness and other images that made potter to comment that Goya’s imagination harnessed the supernatural into a disturbing display of the insensible and unreasonable. Goya’s allegiance to Spain was questioned in connection to his collaboration with the French. Since this was already discussed above, it is deemed it unnecessary to discuss it further. Conclusion Francisco de Goya’s contribution to arts is now an institution, which benefits sincere students of the arts. Goya was indeed a gifted person whose works can affect a viewer’s mood. His paintings were a powerful reminiscent of the heroism and nationalism of the Spanish people during the Napoleonic era in Spain. Although his motives in some of his paintings were for personal interest, such as that of The Third of May, it was evident that the painting had left a lasting impression on the effect of war to lives and properties, a lesson that must never be forgotten but to be implanted in the minds of every individual. Francisco de Goya may long been gone, but his contribution in the world of arts will continue to live on especially his use of lights and dark colors. Goya’s talent is not only a gift of his own; it is gift for the entire artist, a gift for the entire aspiring artist, and finally, a gift for everyone loves arts. Goya’s â€Å"The Third of May†, reminds us not only of the horrors and of violence of wars but also of courage, heroism, sacrifice. Bibliography Connell, Mary. The Atrocities of War http://www. jmu. edu/evision/archive/volume1/essays/connell. html Court, Kimberly. Goya’s Black Paintings, harsh, but Honest http://www. wsu. edu/~kimander/goyasblackpaintings. htm Gray, Don. Art Essay, Art Criticism Poems http://www. jessieevans. com/essays/essay087. html Hollandsworth, James. The Pschological Disorfers: Ashizophtenia. New York: Springer 1990. Murray, Christopher John. Encyclopedia of the Romantic Era, 1760-1850, Vol. 2. New York: Fitztoy Dearborn, 2004. Potter, Polyzeni. Emerging Infectious disease http://www. cdc. gov/ncidod/EID/vol9no11/about_cover. htm Voorhies, James. Francisco de Goya 1746-1828 and the Spanish Enlightenment. Metro Politan Museum of Art 2000-2008. http://www. metmuseum. org/toah/hd/goya/hd_goya. htm

Beautiful Happiness In A Meaningless Life Short Story English Literature Essay

Beautiful Happiness In A Meaningless Life Short Story English Literature Essay I intend to write a short story featuring a few of the more potent themes present within the novelette The Outsider. This short story has simply been written to entertain, and explore the central themes and issues that I have chosen. The content of the story is gruesome and described with vivid details in some cases, so the target audience would be fairly mature, and have an orientation towards fanciful fantasy worlds. The story is set in a land where the local entertainment consists of arena type pit fights. These pit fights are similar to a council of the citys rich and wealthiest, with the lower classes also in attendance. These pit fights are also the place where status is gained and lost among these affluent members of society, with the slaves that compete being used as a means to this end. I have also interpreted the ending of The Outsider differently in my story, with my main character realising that he can make a difference with his life, and that he can live for other people rather than himself only. The content of the story is gruesome and described with vivid details in some cases, so the target audience would be fairly mature, and have an orientation towards fanciful fantasy worlds. The story is set in a land where the local entertainment consists of arena type pit fights. These pit fights are similar to a council of the citys rich and wealthiest, with the lower classes also in attendance. These pit fights are also the place where status is gained and lost among these affluent members of society, with the slaves that compete being used as a means to this end. I have also interpreted the ending of The Outsider differently in my story, with my main character realising that he can make a difference with his life, and that he can live for other people rather than himself only. The ring of steel on steel resounded around the arena, to join the din of gaudy music and jeering shouts ensuing from the on looking patrons of this violent event. The Slave Games took place every day, from the blaze of the new fire in the sky at its start, to its dying embers at dusk. The games consisted of slaves and a monster entered by the Games Keeper. Of course to make it more complicated, there were two different types of slaves, the ones entered by their master, and the ones donated. By a slave being entered it was similar to a bet being placed, with a small fee for entry paid to the games master, the fee also gave slaves the privilege of a weapon of choice. At the conclusion of the battle if the monster was the last one standing, the games master would keep the majority of the winnings, otherwise if a slave was the victor; their master was granted higher standing in society and a large sum of gold as their winnings. There was also an unspoken tradition, that the victorious s lave was granted freedom for their heroic deeds performed within the arena. The donated slaves on the other hand, were the unwanted outcasts of rich society that the Games Keeper bought for a small fee, to liven up the games as he would call it. The scything edge of an axe whistled overhead as the young man shied away from the maiming blow. He dodged left and ducked right, seemingly untouchable with his great agility, and quick mind. His short success ended with his impalement upon a long, unyielding, bronze tipped spear. He was dead before his knees buckled and his bruised and blood spattered head lolled to rest upon his chest. His limp body knelt upright, held there by the protruding spear. His dark, lifeless eyes stared unfocused at the floor of the arena, in a way which made it seem as if the poor boy was still in pain. Tayten observed this, in the moments after he had thrown the spear. But now the boy was dead, and the dead dont feel a thing. He retrieved his spear before turning to the frenzied sounds of battle nearby. The initially frantic fighting in the pit had collapsed in to smaller groups of the more skillful fighters that had survived the morning. Usually the donated slaves would be first to succumb as they main ly consisted of the old, the weak and the lame, though among these tribute slaves, were a handful of the forsaken; the brawlers, the thieves and those who had displeased their master. Tayten was of the forsaken, he was a free man captured, and bludgeoned into slavery. But he valued his freedom greatly, and he loved to journey even though he thought life was meaningless. How could one man make a difference, and be remembered after his death? He returned from his reverie with the great horn blast that signaled the release of the monster. The clash of steel ceased as the remaining slaves turned to face the monster. Usually it would take more than one slave to bring the monster down, so it was at this point that the slaves banded together in a bid to survive. Though if the monster was killed, the slaves would continue the fight between themselves, until a victor was eventually decided. A large iron gate slowly rose to reveal a dark entrance, for a moment nothing emerged, then with a roa r of rage, a full grown bull Minotaur emerged. Its pelvis covered in the blood marred rags of a loin cloth, and standing nearly half again the height of the tallest slave still alive. It carried a great jagged edged axe over its shoulder, mangled gore still present on its edge; it was truly a creature to instill fear into the hearts of even the bravest and most foolhardy of humans. One man turned tail and fled for the opposite side of the arena, sadly this drew the monsters attention and with two leaping bounds the Minotaur trampled the man under hoof. The other slaves charged, with shouts and battle cries, but Tayten held back, silently waiting to see what happened. The Minotaur spun with his deadly weapon, and cleaved in half the two fore runners with a single sweeping blow, seven slaves remained. The next slave, a burly man with a dusty orange beard and a balding crown, jumped with his two-handed sword held high, in an attempt to cut the Minotaur in half. But it simply bounced of f the thick hide and the Minotaur let out a deep rumble of hatred, before crushing the mans skull with the haft of the axe. Death was dealt instantly to the next three slaves, who all attempted a similar approach. The next slave attempted to go for the eyes, but with a sudden jerk, the Minotaur had thrust down with his head, skewering the adolescent upon his horns. Blood now ran down the Minotaurs face and muzzle, some even obscuring vision in his left eye. The sight of blood seemed to push the Minotaur into a frenzy, and he quickly dispatched the next closest slave, an older woman with a hard look in her eyes, and a slight scar running across the bridge of her nose. He was only able to see these finer details, when her head came to rest a foot from where he sat. The Minotaur lunged down with his axe in an attempt to kill the last slave opposing him. But the young boy was surprisingly nimble and evaded easily. A dagger flashed into the boys hand, and he slashed fiercely at the Minot aurs heel. Surprisingly the small blade cut deep, severing the tendon in the monsters leg. This time the Minotaur gave a cry of agony, and fell to one knee. Tayten watched again as the dagger flashed, realising that it must be made of glass; the only material hard and sharp enough, possibly capable of cutting through the Minotaurs thick hide. The Minotaur was too slow to catch the boy, and was obviously spiteful for it. With decisive slices, the Minotaur was unable to hold its axe, but the beast was still deadly. The boys overconfidence in his soon to be triumph over the beast ended with the bone crushing strength in the Minotaurs undamaged hand. The monster lifted the feeble body of the boy high into the air; the Minotaur stared hatefully at the corpse. In an eruption of still warm blood, a long hard shaft emerged from the boys chest. The Minotaur watched the silently in the instant before his death as the bronze tipped spear entered through his eye cavity, and ruptured his brain. Tayten registered the tearing peals of a bell tolling, and the deafening uproar that the crowd was making. None of this concerned him, not even the dead child he had plunged his spear through. Everyone died; it just so happened that they would be meeting her before he did. The crowd grew silent, all eyes watching him. The Games Keeper had risen, and it appeared that he was expecting an answer for an unspoken question. He turned to his peers and asked quietly, Is he not one of your slaves? Not a single one answered. Slaves were expendable, but keeping with his faà §ade of the generous benefactor for such events, he would need to keep the crowd and his rich friends happy. It was blatantly apparent though, that the previous master of the donated slave, expected retribution for the slaves survival. A solution came to mind. With a hollow cone of bronze pressed to his lips, his booming voice emanated out across the stadium, Our victor, Tayten is the champion of this day, and we acknowledge him for his deeds, he let the echo of his voice die before continuing. Never before has a donated slave won this tournament, but I have a solution. As I bought him from his previous master, it will be I who decides his fate, the crowd seemed hold its breath in anticipation of the Games Keepers verdict. The Games Keepers right arm shot out in front of him, with his fist clenched and thumb held horizontal. His thumb dropped slightly, and the crowd began to boo. But this was all part of the act, and before it got out of hand, his thumb shot up in definite sign of approval. The slave would be granted freedom. The crowd applauded with many shouts of joy, even jovial music could be heard in the background. The Games Keeper smiled as he watched the jubilation he had wrought within his crowd, before dropping his arm a moment later. His smile evaporated as he perceived the accusatory eyes of the contemptuous dark eyed noble boring into him. He bowed his head down next to the seated nobles ear, You know, the games keeper continued as if remembering something of importance, many unfortunate fates can befall a freed slave, once he has left the protection of the arena. As the Games Keeper marched off to oversee proceedings of the slaves release, the dark eyes of the noble brightened considerably, and a mean smirk marred his face. à ¢Ã¢â€š ¬Ã‚ ¢Ãƒ ¢Ã¢â€š ¬Ã‚ ¢Ãƒ ¢Ã¢â€š ¬Ã‚ ¢ As Tayten walked beneath the low arch of the arenas gate, a smile caught upon his lips. The prospect of being free was a truly wonderful thought indeed, and the first place he would go was the local tavern. The smell of spirits wafted through the dark enclosed room, bringing back memories of times long past. He drank his fill, but a slave released from service has no money, so when the time came to pay he left promptly to the disgruntled shouts of the barman. He had no money to pay for lodgings, so he settled down in an alley way for the night. The comforting warmth from the liquor spread throughout his body, dulling his senses and propelling him over the edge into the blissful abyss of sleep. He wondered mildly in the moment before slumber came, whether death would be like this, the only difference being you never wake up. Once the mercenary was sure that his quarry would not be moving for the rest of the night, he disappeared back into the night to find his employer. Tayten woke with a start. Four tall dark figures loomed ominously about him, all wore deep set hoods. He realised then that they were only tall, because he was still sitting. Shakily he began to rise, but a heavy blow sent him back to the ground. The alcohol, still thick in his blood, was taking a heavy toll on his ability to comprehend what was happening. Who were these people? One of the men drew back his dark cowl to reveal his identity. The dark eyed noble stared malevolently down upon the man who had once been his slave. With a slight hand gesture from the noble, the three remaining hooded figures roughly seized the prostrate Tayten, hauling him upright to stand helplessly before his wicked enslaver. With a bitter smile, the noble spoke, I bet you thought it was your lucky day. Insult me and survive to tell the tale, I bet thats what you thought, the noble mistook Taytens drunken haze for impudence, and his next words were filled with venom as he sneered. Well you know what you poor dog; your worthless life will be cut to its wick this night, the nobles mouth formed an angelic smile, as he concluded. Not to worry, for I assure you, it will be painful, and before the end you will be begging for death. The sounds of voices approached, and a group of soldiers with lit torches past before the entrance to the alley, that the group was congregating within. The city was not without laws, and murder was punishable by death. The noble realised the vulnerability of his position, and decided to withdraw, leaving the hired mercenaries to dispatch the insolent slave. The three hired soldiers stood in silence as their hirer swiftly disappeared into the darkness. Making sure that the noble was definitely gone before speaking, the man to Taytens left spoke with a fairly high pitched voice, Well wasnt he a nasty one. The man to Taytens right replied simply, in what appeared to be a grumpy tone, They always are. The third soldier behind him, responded to this by saying, Yeah, that may be so, but they dont have the guts to do their own dirty work, and I guess we should be thankful for the work. The second soldier responded in a quietly outraged voice, WORK, you call this WORK!? We get paid so little by these rich bastards, when they have so much. The third answered, Youre right, but the rich only stay rich because theyre so selfish with their wealth. The second, Im sick of how bad were treated, after this Im going to get an honest job with honest pay, at least then Ill get the respect I deserve. The first cut in before the third could answer the seconds lamentations, Well you know we could make more money for these jobs, and still have the same end result. The other two soldiers turned, and in unison the third asked, How? a gleam sparkling in his eye, while the second stared blankly at the first and before asking an unintelligible, What? The first explained his idea, and the other two agreed upon it. They would take the man they were ordered to kill, and sell him to the pit master as a donated slave. Not only would they earn extra gold for this job, but they need not even get their hands dirty with the murder of another person. Taytens head had cleared slightly, and he was now partly focused upon the situation he was in. A voice spoke very close to his ear, As we move through the city, do not make a sound, do not make eye contact, and do not draw attention to yourself, otherwise we will kill you there and then, Tayten nodded, and the group set off. The journey was uneventful, and just before they reached the arena, they turned into a side alley. The soldiers had agreed that the slaves death needed to be assured, so they would slightly maim him, but not making it too visible so that he would still fetch a fair price. The second soldier came over, and with the pommel of his bastard sword, struck a blow that cracked a couple of ribs on the left side of Taytens body. Tayten keeled over from the pain, but he did not cry out. The troupe continued to the slave block built beside the arena, where they found the head slave master and bargained a good price for the slave they were donating. Tayten was then exchanged for the gold, and the trio of mercenaries departed. Two pit guards came to lead him down into the holding cells. As he was led to the entrance of a dark corridor trailing down into the depths of the earth, he remembered the circumstances of his last visit to this dank, moldy hole in the ground. When the noble had first brought him here, his hands had been bound, and a hessian sack had covered his face. As his eyes searched around the dark tunnel, he knew where he was. He remembered the smell and the feeling of oppression he had originally felt the first time he had come down this way, with his head concealed within the dark sack. But the aid of sight didnt help much, as it was hard to see in this dark, oppressive place, regardless of whether or not his sight had been obstructed. He looked at the faces of his escort, but he didnt recognise them, and it was probably the same for them. He was left alone within the dark holding cell for the night. He remembered from the first time, how his mask had been removed, and how he had been affronted with the sight of so many slaves in a single cell. It wasnt the fact that there were a lot of slaves; it was simply that his freedom was greatly restricted within such a tightly packed cell. Yet now he had his freedom within the cold dark cell, and it was eerily quiet. He had his freedom, and yet it wasnt what he remembered it to be. Tayten remembered freedom as warm and cheerful, but this freedom was the opposite. In fact, it had been in the crowded cell on the first night that he had experienced true warmth, nestled in with all the other slaves. He had also found the sounds of people in slumber, far more pleasant than the unearthly hush that had now settled over the chamber. Maybe freedom wasnt what he wanted anymore. He lay down, the cold leaving a bitter ache in his cracked ribs. It would be a long nightà ¢Ã¢â€š ¬Ã‚ ¦ Tayten must have drifted off, as it seemed to him that only moments had passed, since he had lain to rest upon the straw matted floor. But the morning bell was already tolling, signifying the start of the new day, and the opening of the arena gates to paying patrons. Taytens eyes drooped with exhaustion, as he stood up, but his mind was clear and his movements precise. He vowed never to drink alcohol again. His cracked ribs hindered his movements slightly, but as long as he protected that area, he could manage. Just then, a trio of pit guards entered the donated slaves holding chamber, one looked confused for a moment, before surprised recollection dawned upon his face, and he turn and ran out of the room. The two remaining guards shrugged their shoulders, and turned back to the only slave in the cell. The door was unlatched, and Tayten was led to the holding area, where many tunnels converged into a large central hall. The slaves would remain here, until the great gate at the far en d was opened, and the slaves would emerge into the arena. The entered slaves were already present, and Tayten was the only donated slave, so the games would begin at anytime. Taytens reticent nature had turned to mild annoyance for the noble who had imprisoned him, and then continually keeping him from his freedom. Tayten recalled the reason behind him becoming a donated slave in the pits; he had attempted to escape the nobles holdings, but had failed, and had been sentenced harshly by the noble for attempting to leave his service. This new found anger welled up within him, as the door on a side passage leading into the great hall, was thrust open by a tall, illustriously dressed man, stalking furiously towards the central holding cell. The fuming glare of the noble passed over the slaves and came to rest with livid hatred upon Tayten. Tayten smiled back, the nobles eyes darkened and a deep set frown embedded itself where his mouth used to be. Unsettlingly, a moment later, he in turn gave his own wicked smile to Tayten. Just then the bell tolled, to signal the start of the fight. As tradition would have it, the donated slaves were the first to enter the arena, followed a few moments later by the entered slaves. Tayten was happy to leave behind the demonic stare of the noble, so he quickly entered the field. The first thing he noticed, was that amazingly the arenas canopy had become a patchwork of mirrors joined together to form a shell between the spectators and the pit fight. It was obvious that the crowd could still see him from the excited shouts he received upon his entry, even if he himself couldnt see them through the mirrors reflective surface. Some members of the crowd let out surprised yells, as they recognised the victor of the previous day, but the initial surprise turned to angry confusion. Why was the victor (a free man) forced to fight in another round of the Slave Games? The entered slaves had been watching the interaction between the noble and the slave, so when the noble gestured that they should come closer, the entire group of entered slaves obeyed. When they had roughly formed a semi-circle along the wall of the holding pen, the noble spoke, Whoever kills that donated slave, he paused to gesture towards the open great gate, before continuing. Will be granted their freedom. The noble turned and left the holding area, the entered slaves looking at one another. A second smaller bell tolled within the holding area, to tell the entered slaves to cross the threshold into the arena. The slaves quickly departed and took up positions around the arena battlefield. The Slave Games were about to begin. The bell tolled and the fight began. The start of the fight wasnt as frantic as was usually the case. There were no other donated slaves, but Tayten knew that the fighting would be more intense sooner. A few slaves detached themselves from the main fighting, to single out the lone donated slave, this seemed odd to Tayten, as they usually focused on the more aggressive opponents. None the less, Tayten killed the first opponent who challenged him and took his blunt knife. The second enemy was of stocky build, and wielded an axe. But Tayten threw the dagger he had recently acquired, the tip catching the unprepared warrior in the eye. He fell dead, and Tayten retrieved his axe, improving his odds of survival by gaining a better weapon. The noble reemerged in the wealthy section of the spectator seats, and sat alongside the Games Keeper. The Games Keeper unhappily commented, I didnt expect you to bring him back here, when I told you about the unfortunate fates that can befall a free slave. The noble replied, Truly it was not my intention for him to be back here, but none the less, he will die today. Games Keeper, How can you be so sure, he survived once didnt he, why not again? Noble, He didnt have to fight much the first time through, lets just say Ive ensured that all those entered slaves will be hounding him like a plague of black flies to rotting meat. Games Keeper, What did you tell them? Noble, That the person who kills that slave of mine will be granted their freedom. Games Keeper, Never before has this happened, and I will not allow it today. Noble, Calm yourself, of course I lied. The dismayed expression upon the nobles face bespoke of his friends lack of trust. He finished what he intended to say with a mean smirk, I will grant them freedom by their own death, a moment of silence fell between the two, before the noble curiously asked, What monster have you decided to enter into this days Slave Games? Games Keeper, Ahh my friend, that is for me to know and for you to find out, but Ill give you a hint, I had this dome especially built for her unique ability, and I think I will be releasing her early, to give the slaves more of a fighting chance. Tayten was in the thick of battle, fighting two particularly vicious slaves at once. He had managed to acquire a short sword, and was duel wielding this with the axe he had, to keep the hungry weapons of his two adversaries at bay. One had a spear, while the other a scimitar. The man with the scimitar would attack at close combat, with a series of ripostes and thrusts that had Tayten moving back one step at a time. While beside the scimitar user, the woman with the spear was jabbing and thrusting brutally, in an attempt to skewer her foe, though not very skillful at her weapon, she was keeping him busy, as he couldnt move close enough to deal a killing blow, while still defending against the other slaves attacks. Unexpectedly a second bell rang clearly, and far too early. The monster had been released. Tayten had been distracted for only a moment, but that was all that was needed, for the scimitar warrior to lop half his left hand off. With his hand destroyed, he could no longer hold the weapon that was defending against the spear, and as this happened; the woman saw her opportunity and plunged the spear through his cracked ribs, and out the opposite side of his body. He was pushed back by the force of the spear, but then he fell forwards onto one knee, which yanked the spear from the womans grasp. He knelt there upon his heels, resting. He closed his eyes, and listened to the silence of the field, as most of the slaves turned to watch as the monster entered. Someone let out a scream, but Tayten didnt care, he gently grasped the shaft of the spear, and began to pull the shaft towards him, pushing it out the other side of his body. The pain was immense, and he struggled not to scream. It felt as if his left lung was filling with a warm fluid, and he was finding it becoming harder to breathe. He could hear people running about him, but it was in a disorganised fashion which meant that the slaves where in a state of chaos, and the monster was getting the best of t hem. Tayten used the blood covered spear that now lay behind him, as a support when he rose to his feet. He then opened his eyes, and found himself staring into the eyes of a statue. He spun around slowly taking in the sight; the battle field was littered with many statues, in the exact likeness of the slaves he had entered the arena with. He couldnt hear any movement, but he caught sight of what appeared to be the tail of a large snake, disappearing behind the obstructing statues. Tayten remembered the tale of the Gorgon, a woman with snakes for hair, and the lower body of a serpent, and possessed the ability to turn a human to stone by looking them in the eye. He immediately closed his eyes once again. He stood still listening for the faintest of sounds. The dry slithering rasp of something moving across the surface of the arena emanated from behind him, and in a single fluid movement, he turned and threw the spear. The chink of metal on stone told him he had hit a statue, and now weaponless and weakened, he knew he would soon be dead. He was half tempted to open his eyes, but he was unwilling to give up his life just yet. So he stood still and waited, while the rasp grew steadily louder. A dry whispery voice spoke close to Taytens ear, If you had thrown that spear a little higher, it would have cleared the statue, and killed me. A real shame too. Tayten felt something slither around his boots and slowly bind around his damaged body, he didnt need to guess that that this was the gorgons snake like body, constricting her victim. He was wrapped within her coils up to the base of his rib cage, but he removed his hands, before they were stuck tight next to his body. The voice came again, this time directly in front of his face, Why dont you open your eyes son of man, and stare into my eyes. The gorgon had noticed his wounds and knew well of his pain. Blood slid over her scales, dripping from Taytens hand and the still heavily seeping wound through his rib cage. Tayten spoke to the gorgon in a soft voice, What is your name gorgon? Surprised by the humans question, the gorgon replied easily, Medusa. Tayten replied with a smile, I am truly sorry Medusa, but I will not. Not until I have changed the world, and done something to be remembered by. Medusa, Silly human, one soul cannot change the world. Something brushed against Taytens face, and he recoiled slightly in shock at the unexpected feeling. More such light caresses came and went. All that Tayten cared was that they felt nice, and he began to slightly bob his head forward in search of more. Suddenly, unexpectedly, he felt his lips brush against Medusas own cold, yet subtly soft lips. Medusa hurriedly withdrew her face in alarm, her hair venomously hissing at the helpless human. The gorgons initial anger faded away to be replaced by inane curiosity, her hair had stopped hissing, and she moved in closer again. Her face was close enough to see the humans frowning brow, and once again she let her hair lightly caress his face as she easily came forwards to kiss the man. He had tensed his body in surprise, but it soon relaxed. She wrapped both arms around his neck, as to not aggravate his wounds. He also reached behind her and interlocked what was left of his hands. He could feel where the silky smooth human skin gave way to th e smooth scales of a snake. He also felt a strap running across her back, which undoubtedly held the metal breastplate to the front of her body that was now pressing lightly against his chest. The assuring pressure of the cool metal soothed Taytens body, and encouraged him to be conscious of how intimately entwined their two bodies were. Games Keeper, It appears as if your slave is dead. Noble, Not yet, I still havent seen his corpse or statue. Games Keeper, If you ask me, youve become obsessed with killing this guy, why cant you admit that he is dead yet? Noble, Maybe youre right, but you wouldnt believe how hard it has been for me to kill this man, just when you think he is dead; he jumps up and surprises you again. Tayten couldnt understand what he was feeling. What was this new unexplainable emotion? What was this word that was embedded within this emotion; love. He felt so happy and yet he was enslaved, it felt nice to kiss her and her gentle hair lulled him into bliss. Maybe life wasnt about living for yourself, maybe it was meant to be lived for others. Maybe if you live for others you will find that special happiness, that beautiful happiness, that you can only feel when you make another happy. Tayten asked happily, Do you think two souls can change the world? Medusa took a while to answer, I think we can. Tayten, Please release me, so that I can change the world and be remembered, I think Ill need your help though. Gasps from the crowd, made the noble and Games Keeper turn from their conversation, to see what had happened. Standing in the middle of the arena with the gorgon by his side, was the slave, and in his right hand he held a spear. He seemed to be orienting himself (taking care not to look at the gorgon), and when he had finished turning, he was looking directly at the noble. The noble turned to the Games Keeper, He cant see us can he? The Games Keeper replied unconvincingly, Not a chance, were behind a one way mirror, we can see him, but he cant see us. The noble countered fretfully, Then why the hell is he looking at us, and how on earth is he still alive!? Before the Games Master could reply, the slave took off running in their general direction. The noble stood, and with a horrified look on his face watched as the slave threw his spear, which shattered the mirrored glass directly before the wealthy spectator seats, and impaled the head board of the chair the Games Keeper had been sitting in. Frozen with shock, at the close call, the noble began to laugh. But it was short lived as moments later he fixed his gaze upon the most terrible set of eyes he had ever seen, and in that moment his body turned to stone. The same occurred to the Games Keeper, and the majority of the rich nobles who had been transfixed by the spectacle of the shattering mirror. The crowd was in chaos, their leaders were dead and the victor of the Slave Games from the previous day who had returned for a second time, was the direct cause for this. Fearing their own death, the crowd hurriedly exited the arena.