Stefan’s Diaries The Craving Chapter 27 Free Essays

There was nothing to demonstrate the section of hours inside the austere vault †not the barest recommendation of daylight at any point advanced under its entryways. Days dissolved into weeks, perhaps months. It felt as though an unfathomable length of time had passed, but then another loosened up perpetually before us. We will compose a custom article test on Stefan’s Diaries: The Craving Chapter 27 or on the other hand any comparative subject just for you Request Now Lexi and I had quit talking. Not severely or misery, yet in light of the fact that we couldn’t any longer. We didn’t have enough solidarity to compel ourselves to shout when we heard somebody approach, substantially less get up and battle the stone that kept us covered. There was no more solidarity to battle the murkiness, no solidarity to hold up. On the off chance that I’d despite everything required my heart to endure, I’m not certain I’d have had the solidarity to keep blood siphoning through my veins. We lay quietly close to one another. In the event that anybody at any point discovered us, an a long time after that, we would look unfortunate, similar to a sister and sibling in some frightful fantasy caught in a witch’s cellar. Each passing second depleted me of my Power. My eyes no longer parsed the dimness. The quiet was outright as sounds from the outside world blurred into obscurity. All that I had left was my feeling of touch †the vibe of Lexi’s waxy hand, the harsh wood of the battered final resting place close to me, the cool metal band of my pointless ring. I felt practically human once more, in the most exceedingly awful conceivable way. What's more, as my Power withdrew agonizingly, so with it went my everlasting status. I had never seen its consistent nearness until it started to vanish, leaving meat and bone, cerebrum and liquids, and removing such was extraordinary about me with it. Aside from my yearning. My vampire side responded to starvation. My teeth throbbed and ignited with need so severely that I would have cried tears if I’d had any. Blood weaseled its way into all my musings. I longed for how it had beaded up, gem like, on Callie’s finger when she’d cut herself. How smoky my youth pound, Clementine Haverford, had tasted going down. How, as my dad lay passing on the floor of his investigation, his blood had spread out around him like insatiable, looking through fingers, recoloring everything in sight a dull, delectable red. At long last, everything returns to blood. Vampires are only craving exemplified, planned explicitly to take blood from our casualties. Our eyes urge them to confide in us, our teeth tear open their veins, and our mouths channel them of their very life source. Blood†¦ Blood†¦ Blood†¦ Blood†¦ The word murmured to me again and again, similar to a melody trapped in one’s head, filling each hole of my cerebrum and covering every memory with its enticing aroma. And afterward an exceptionally natural voice started to converse with me. â€Å"Hello, Stefan.† â€Å"Katherine?† I croaked, scarcely ready to get the words out. I figured out how to turn my head sufficiently only to see her spread curvaceously on a lot of silk pad pads. She looked precisely as she had the evening of the slaughter, before they removed her and murdered her. Excellent and mostly uncovered, her pouty lips giving me a knowing grin. â€Å"Are you†¦ alive?† â€Å"Shhhh,† she stated, hanging over to stroke my cheek. â€Å"You don’t look well.† I shut my eyes as her inebriating fragrance of lemon and ginger cleared over me, so natural thus genuine that I swooned. She more likely than not took care of as of late on the grounds that the warmth from her skin consumed vulnerable burial place. â€Å"I wish I could help you,† she murmured, her lips near mine. â€Å"Your. Fault,† I figured out how to relax. â€Å"Oh, Stefan,† she chastened. â€Å"You might not have been as willing as your sibling, however you didn’t correctly article to my†¦ ministrations.† As though to accentuate her words, she hung over and squeezed her delicate lips to my cheek. Again†¦ and again†¦ hauling them down my dry neck. Incredibly, carefully, she prodded me, letting the tips of her teeth simply cut my skin. I groaned. My head spun. â€Å"But. You. Burned,† I grated. â€Å"I saw the church.† â€Å"Do you wish me dead?† she asked, fire in her eyes. â€Å"Do you need me to consume, to fall to the ground in a heap of cinders, basically in light of the fact that you can’t have me all to yourself?† â€Å"No!† I dissented, attempting to push her off my neck. â€Å"Because you made me a monster†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Her giggle was light and melodic, similar to the breeze rings Mother had held tight the entryway patio of Veritas. â€Å"Monster? Truly, Stefan, one day you will recollect what you knew to be valid back in New Orleans †that what I have given you is a blessing, not a curse.† â€Å"You’re as mad†¦ as†¦ Klaus†¦.† She sat back, alert drawing lines around her golden eyes. Her lower lip wobbled. â€Å"How do you think about K †? â€Å" The grave entryways detonated into a thousand shards of stone and wood, like shot through with a gun. I secured my face, the light consuming my eyes like corrosive. At the point when I opened them once more, Katherine was gone, and a foggy figure garbed in dark faltered in the barbed entryway, haloed by the rebuffing light. â€Å"Klaus?† Lexi murmured in a panicked voice, grasping my hand. â€Å"Sorry to disappoint,† came a wry voice. â€Å"Damon!† I attempted to sit up. â€Å"Stefan, don’t you think it’s time you halted simply keeping an eye out for your elder sibling to come and salvage you?† Without service he came to in, got my wrist, and flung me out of the sepulcher. I flew into the contrary divider and tumbled down into a load on the marble floor. Damon was gentler with Lexi, however not by much. Another weightless cadaver, she floundered against me, legs to one side. Residue and shrapnel skimmed around us like haze. I squinted at the unexceptional dividers, attempting to get my orientation. â€Å"Here,† Damon stated, holding out a silver carafe. â€Å"You’re going to require it to escape.† I put my lips against the mouth of the vessel. Blood. Sweet, sweet, blood†¦ A voice in the rear of my psyche yelled that it was human blood, however I hushed it with a sprinkle of powerful fluid. I drank profoundly, frantically, moaning when Damon got the carafe away from me. â€Å"Save some for the lady,† he said. Lexi drank avariciously too. Blood trickled down her jaw and around her lips as she sucked hard and quietly. Her skin, which had been drawn, pale and wrinkled as an old woman’s, rounded out and got pink and puffy. â€Å"Thanks, sailor,† she relaxed. â€Å"I required that.† Like a light filling a basement with warmth and light, I felt my own Power transmit through my appendages, restoring my faculties to what they were, instilling my body with quality that I hadn’t experienced since before I began eating just creatures. As my vision cleared, I panted. Behind Damon, a dark haired lady remained with one hand to her sanctuary, the other grasped into a clench hand next to her. Her eyes were shut and her body shook with the smallest of tremors. It seemed as though she was in profound torment, being held set up while obscure torments were concerned her psyche and body. Margaret. What's more, she wasn’t alone. There was an inclined figure before her, squirming excruciatingly, and I understood with a shock that Margaret wasn’t being tormented †she was the one exacting agony in another. In Lucius. In the super-vampire, so Powerful, yet still just a trooper of Klaus, the evil spirit straightforwardly slid from damnation. Lucius had killed a whole family, caught me easily, and got Lexi like an irksome mouse. The beast had his head in his grasp and was shouting, awful shouts that appeared to send resonations through the very sanctuary. â€Å"Is that Margaret?† I asked, astounded. Damon pulled me up, moved me toward the entryway. â€Å"We can’t leave her!† â€Å"She’ll be fine!† â€Å"But †â€Å" â€Å"Questions later. Running now.† Thus, with one final gander at the lady who had pushed Hell itself to the edge of total collapse, I fled from the site of my detainment and out into moonlight. Step by step instructions to refer to Stefan’s Diaries: The Craving Chapter 27, Essay models

College Term Paper Writers Can Help You Succeed

College Term Paper Writers Can Help You SucceedCollege students expect their college term paper writers to do a fantastic job. It's one of the main reasons that students are so eager to submit their papers before they head off to school. Having a fantastic term paper written by a stellar writer means that you've probably got one of the best grades of all the students in your class. It can help you gain the respect and admiration of your fellow classmates.The student's expectation of what should be done with their term paper is pretty high, and it makes it that much more important for college term paper writers to be top-notch when they are writing. While this can easily be a very difficult task for them, there are a few things that they can do that will make it easier for them to get the job done. Here are a few tips that can help you become more successful in this area:Use a term paper writer who knows what they're doing - There are plenty of term paper writers out there who do not really know the first thing about term papers. They may have a degree in college composition, but this does not mean that they know how to write an effective term paper. You will want to find a term paper writer who has a clear understanding of the topic, and they should also have a track record of writing successful papers.Get the facts right - Just like your term paper writer, you need to have all the facts correct when you're writing a term paper. You cannot simply assume that everything you write is true, and that everyone will take it at face value. This will make your term paper seem not only dishonest but totally devoid of any facts.Stay out of it! - If you start a term paper project early in the semester, then don't let yourself get involved in it until the end of the semester, it will help you not to get distracted. As your term paper gets closer to graduation, keep your attention on school and completing assignments.Know when to hold back - Once you've finished a term pape r, be sure to sit down and review it. Sometimes students need a little bit of time to decompress from a particularly hectic term paper, and this will help you identify some areas where you need to add something to it. A good way to do this is to ask your term paper writer to send you an email or a message if he or she thinks that your term paper needs a little bit of work.Keep in touch - It's amazing how a term paper can change over the course of the semester. As the semester progresses, you will find that certain topics can become more important, and others can become less so. While you can send a student email a week before the semester starts and ask them to do some reading on that particular topic, sometimes students are going to forget it all when the semester starts. By keeping in touch with them throughout the semester, you can help them remember exactly what they were doing.Do not be afraid to ask a term paper writers for advice on topics that may be bothering you, or areas that you may be confused about. If you know that you need to make changes to an essay or page, asking your writer to look at it from a different perspective can help you to resolve any issues that may come up. Although their professional opinion may not be able to resolve your particular issue, at least you will be sure to receive a response from someone who does have an actual expertise in the field.

Object Analysis (Keris from Bali) using Prown's Method Assignment

Item Analysis (Keris from Bali) utilizing Prown's Method - Assignment Example Sandalwood is utilized in making its spread, and it has a length of 45 cm. It has a surmised width of 3 cm and 3 mm thick. The Ganesh cutting on the handle is an image of heavenly nature and assurance. It has been in the ownership of the family for roughly seven decades through legacy as it is given to relatives. The Keris is unmistakable with the minister design on the blade’s surface. The Keris is accepted to give upon the proprietor such a large number of endowments of good karma and furthermore give chances to riches increase (Wiener). The Keris are still generally utilized by the Bali in strict administrations and wedding services as they serve explicit capacities. The Keris weighs roughly 360 grams, sizeable to a blade and is handheld. Its spread is made so that it very well may be held tight the waistline. Its handle is unpleasant, and this empowers it to be gotten a handle on without any problem. It has themes on the level sides of the edge that speaks to the up and coming difference in occasions of godsend karma and fortune. The Keris was worn every day that likewise remembered for exceptional functions. It is considered so significant and as such it has been given from age to age and worn by the two sexes. It has a huge profound and legendary advancement around it (Picard and Madinier). It utilizes incorporate procession, deadly implements, apparatuses of enchantment powers, blessed legacies, basic things for warriors, cultural status pointers and a gallantry token. With current modernisation, the Keris has lost a portion of its significant social and profound importance in the general public. Its conventional job has lessened and left skilled workers with little individuals to proceed with the creation and flexibly of Keris. There are a few inquiries that can emerge from the Keris. For example, how did individuals come to have faith in its otherworldly powers? Does it truly have proof of profound significance? As I would see it, the Keris presents a delightful history of Indonesian’s and its assurance in

Funny Speech Topics on the Most Important Issues

If you get a speech as an assignment at college, you usually have to create it using a topic that will interest the audience, be up-to-date and connected with some important (global) issue. Why? Well, there has to be someone who will listen to your presentation (without falling asleep), and while preparing the task, you have to find out more about the issue to raise the awareness of yours and others. Phewww, the task doesn’t sound easy. But don’t worry, we will help you with it. The most popular topics for academic assignments include deforestation, global warming, crime, education, time management, student sleep deprivation, etc. The thing is that each of them you can turn into a funny subject for a speech. Why would you do that? Because there will be enough students who will create serious (and boring) presentations that will make your colleagues yawn. And if you want to stand out from the crowd and get remembered, we offer you to take one of the significant topics and explore its funny aspect. How? Have a look at our 20 funny speech topics and follow our examples. Bidet as a Modern Means to Save Forests: Say No to Toilet Paper! Tongue Prints – a More Trustworthy Way of Identifying People Than Fingerprints How to Learn to Control Adrenaline Rush While Watching Horror Movies Reasons to Include Video Gaming into the School Program The Relationship between Children and Their Parents on Facebook The Most Embarrassing Moment in My Life That Gave Me Valuable Lessons How Not to Take the Bait of Steve Jobs and Drop out of College American Criminals with the Lowest IQ Level How to Save Your Precious Student Time with Frozen Dinners How to Laugh at the Face of Stereotypes Legalization of Marijuana: Positive Effects of the Drug on Student’s Progress How to Mess up Your Pension Plan Being Still at College How Shoes That Don’t Fit You Can Ruin Your Life The Benefits of Social Networks in Gaining Information Robots as Potential Best Friends: Dangers and Advantages How Not to Look like a Zombie During Your Finals How to Talk about the Topic â€Å"If I Were a Millionaire† without Crying Your Baby Is Polluting the Planet: The Hidden Reef of Disposable Diapers Examples from Public Surveillance Cameras that Will Make You Laugh, but Think More about Your Privacy How to Make Your Real-Life Communication as Advanced as an Online One Go through these topics and check out how we bring to light the funny aspect of each subject. It is very easy, but also a bit dangerous because your speech may turn from a hilarious presentation into an offensive or disrespectful talk. Avoid such a case scenario and get a decent grade for an assignment that will be funny to write and amuse your audience. Good luck with that!

2019 LSAT Score Release Dates

The speed with which you receive your LSAT score will depend on whether or not you have an online account with LSAC.org. Students with an account typically receive their scores about three weeks after the test date. Students without an account will often have to wait about four weeks or so for scores to arrive in the mail. LSAT Score Release Details Few standardized test scores create more anxiety than those for the LSAT. While many undergraduate and graduate programs are recognizing that standardized tests are not always the best measure of a students potential for success, law schools typically rely heavily on the LSAT. With a good LSAT score youll have a decent chance of being admitted; with a weak score, youre going to have almost no chance of getting into any of the countrys top law schools. Because of the tests importance, you clearly need to plan your exam so that you will get scores to your top choice law schools in time. The table below presents the score release dates published on the LSAC website. Realize, however, that these dates are approximate and are, in fact, most likely inaccurate. Unlike the SAT and ACT that have specific dates on which scores go live, LSAT scores have no such concrete date. The dates below are about three  weeks after the exam for online score reporting and four weeks after the exam for mail reporting. 2019  LSAT Score Release Dates LSAT Test Dates LSAT Scores Available Online LSAT Scores Mailed January 26 and 28, 2019 February 15, 2019 February 22, 2019 March 30 and April 1, 2019 April 19, 2019 April 26, 2019 June 3, 2019 June 27, 2019 July 4, 2019 July 15, 2019 August 28, 2019 September 4, 2019 September 21, 2019 October 14, 2019 October 21, 2019 October 28, 2019 TBD TBD November 25, 2019 TBD TBD You Have Your LSAT Scores. What Now? When you receive your score report, youll find your current score, results of all tests youve taken since 2012, the average of all scores if youve taken the LSAT more than once, a score band that compensates for the imprecision of the LSAT, and your percentile rank. If youre shooting for the countrys top-ranked law schools, youll most likely need a score that is above 160 to be competitive.   If you find that your scores arent on target for the law schools you are aiming for, youll probably want to beef up your test-taking skills and take the exam again. Be realistic here. The LSAT is expensive, so you dont want to retake the test if there isnt a reasonable chance of a meaningful improvement in your score. Simply taking the test again can result in an increase or decrease of a few points. To significantly increase your score, youre going to need to put in some real effort. Fortunately, there are free online resources to help you prepare for the LSAT, and you can also find tips for studying for the LSAT.

Social Media And Its Effects On Society Essay - 1416 Words

Social media sites, including Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest, Twitter, and Instagram, provide opportunities for people to connect with each other and have become exceedingly popular in recent years. However, there are increased numbers of mental health problems such as mood problems, emotional issues, and addiction in teenagers as they overuse social media. Advocates of social media may claim that social networking platforms benefit adolescents by increasing connectivity, helping people make friends, and giving young adults a sense of belonging. However, they overestimate the benefits of new technology and lack of consideration on the dangerous influence it has. In fact, social media generates addiction, causes feeling of inferiority, and promotes bullying that trigger bad moods and unhealthy emotion which endanger teenagers’ mental health. Social networking platform offer a convenient way for individuals to post their comments, views, personal experiences, and share their prof iles with others. Duggan and Smith (2013) interviewed 1,801 teenagers and found that 73% of respondents used various forms of social media (p. 1). Social media sites, such as Facebook, LinkedIn, Pinterest, Twitter, and Instagram, are widely used around the world, and 13- to 19-year-olds account for the largest segment of users for most social media sites (Kulraj, 2015, p. 4). In a recent poll, O’Keeffe and Clarke-Pearson (2011) analyzed the frequency of social media usage in children, adolescents,Show MoreRelatedSocial Media And Its Effects On Society1597 Words   |  7 PagesSociety Crumbles into Smithereens One Post at a Time You are walking out of the new Star Wars movie, posting about how superb it was, when suddenly you are swooped up and thrown in the back of a vehicle. No one would have thought posting about how you were there earlier would provoke such a situation. After all, social networking is â€Å"safe† and â€Å"friendly.† Now, social media is defined as â€Å"A form of electric communication through which users create online communities to share information,† accordingRead MoreSocial Media And Its Effect On Society1711 Words   |  7 Pagesinfluence usually are not the first words you would expect to come to mind when thinking about the term â€Å"social media,† yet with a little digging you will soon realize it could be the perfect description. Social media can be defined as forms of electronic communication through which users create online communities to share information, ideas, personal messages and other content. Most often social media is understood as a p ositive concept because of the ways it has allowed us to attain cheap and easilyRead MoreThe Effects Of Social Media On Society1359 Words   |  6 PagesIn a broad sense, Social media refers to elements such as websites, television, blogs, IM, and other applications that enable users to create and share various forms of content such as messages, pictures, and information, or to be able to participate in social networking. Social media depends on web-based applications, which allow a high level of virtual interaction on various levels such as social, professional, and educational levels. Social media has had various contributions to the developmentRead MoreSocial Media And Its Effects On Society1592 Words   |  7 Pagesdevelopment of vast social media networks has improved our communications and interactions. These networks, such as Facebook and Twitter, are essential to how information is shared and criticized. The Social Media Handbook defines social media as â€Å"networked information services designed to support in-depth interaction, community formation, collaborative opportunities and collaborative work† (Hunsinger, 2014 p.1). Having an account or profile on these sites is more than a social norm; it is a requirementRead MoreSocial Media And Its Effects On Society1359 Words   |  6 PagesPeople may say social media is good for you but is it really? Everyday, everywhere I always see people on social media calling people bad names, not being able to communicate face to face with each other. Social media, social media, social media†¦ oh what is has done to the world, so many students grades have dropped, criminals PROMOTE crimes. Ultimately, what is at stake here is social media will one day take over the world. People’s safety will be in danger, crimes will increase, people will getRead MoreSocial Media And Its Effect On Society998 Words   |  4 Pagesis bound to be a shift in social norms. As the times change, so does societal views on acceptable values. One such possibility is the standard value accepted by mainstream society in which the way a female body is sexually portrayed in the media. It appears that society has not only accepted this standard, but has increasingly encouraged a more sexualized representation of the female body. Social media is an informational highway about what is accepted by the larger society and inferred by the individualsRead MoreThe Effects Of Social Media On Society Essay1644 Words   |  7 PagesSocial media has become prominent parts of life for many young people today. Most peopl e engage with social media without stopping to think what the effects are on our lives, whether positive or negative. Are we as a society becoming more concerned with Facebook friends than we are with the people we interact with face-to-face in our daily lives? What will the longterm effects of today s social media use be? There are many positive aspects, but there are equally as many dangers that come withRead MoreSocial Media And Its Effect On Society1601 Words   |  7 Pagesrecent editorial titled â€Å"Hazards of Social Media† on your LinkedIn page on February 10th, 2016. It was very interesting to read your perspective on social media and its effect on society. Having an undergraduate major in Psychology at the University of Southern California and currently conducting research on social media usage at the Brain and Creativity Institute of USC, I have spent significant time researching the issue of social media.Though I agree that social media can be hazardous if not u sed effectivelyRead MoreSocial Media And Its Effect On Society1151 Words   |  5 PagesSocial Media The Workplaces’ Largest Enemy Being employed means that an individual will in most cases have coworkers and bosses; the environment shared between the employees is known as the workplace. In the time before technology, people being fired from their jobs was not an unheard of situation. The difference now is people are being terminated from their jobs because of something they posted on social media. If this was not the case, it would set a precedent that posting inappropriate or hurtfulRead MoreSocial Media And Its Effects On Society Essay1396 Words   |  6 PagesIn our modern world, the use of social media is overwhelming and second nature due to the availability. Several people all around the world possess some form of an electronic device that is capable of accessing social media, rather it be Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, Instagram, and many more. â€Å"Technology’s rampant popularization over the past decade in terms of social media has meant that texting, Facebook, and Twitter have inevitable take n over as the most efficient ways of communicating with each

ZumbaZumba Is A Dance Fitness Program free essay sample

Samba Samba is a dance fitness program created by Colombian dancer and choreographer Alberta Bet Perez during the sass. Samba involves dance and aerobic elements. Sambas choreography incorporates hip-hop, coca, samba, salsa, meringue, mambo and martial arts. Squats and lunges are also included. Samba Fitness, an organization that sells Samba videos and products, does not charge licensing fees to gyms or fleetness centers. Approximately 14 million people take weekly Samba classes in over 140,000 locations across more than 185 countries.Origin In the sass, Bet Perez forgot his tape of aerobics music for a class he was teaching. He went to his car, listened to music consisting of traditional salsa and meringue music and improvised a class using this non-traditional aerobics music. After finding initial success in Colombia, he moved to the United States in 2001, where he teamed up with expounder Alberta Perlmans and a childhood friend, COO Alberta Action. The trio produced a demo reel, and the concept was discovered and licensed by a company called Fitness Quest to create a direct marketing campaign and a line of home videos. We will write a custom essay sample on ZumbaZumba Is A Dance Fitness Program or any similar topic specifically for you Do Not WasteYour Time HIRE WRITER Only 13.90 / page 5] Classes An instructor coaches a Samba class in a fleetness center. Samba sessions are typically about an hour long and are taught by instructors licensed by an organization called Samba Academy. [6] The exercises Include music with fast and slow rhythms, as well as resistance training. [J The music comes from the following dance styles: cambium, salsa, meringue, mambo, flamenco, coaches, regnant, coca, samba, hip hop music, ax music and tango. There are nine deferent types of classes for different levels of age and exertion. 4] Samba Gold mainly targets the older population. It is specifically designed to the needs of the elderly and Includes the same kind of music as the Samba fitness party class. [emailprotected] Step. The newest [emailprotected] program, tone and strengthen glutens and legs with a gravity-defying blend of Samba routines and step aerobics. Samba Toning is for the people who do their workouts with toning sticks. Samba Toning will target the abs, thighs, arms. And other muscles throughout the body. Samba Toning is adding sculpting of body and cardiac. Aqua Samba is Samba in a swimming pool. The instructor leads the class from poolside while participants follow the shallow water workout. Moves have been specially adapted to combine the same dance movements used in a Samba Fitness lass with those used in aqua fitness classes creating a fun and effective total body workout. Samba In the circuit Is the dance combined with circuit training. [8] These classes usually last 30 minutes and features strength exercises on various stations in timed intervals.Summarized is a class designed for children between the ages of 4 and 12. It has the same dance and music styles as a regular Samba Fitness class, but has routines designed specifically for kids. Samba Gold-Toning is a toning class for older participants with goals of improving ones muscle strength, posture, mobility, and coordination. Samba Senate Is a chair workout that focuses on using body weight to strengthen and tone the body. [9] Samba instructors have the option to become a ZINC (Samba Instructors Network) member to receive bimonthly training classes.

The Poetry of Sylvia Plath Essay Example

The Poetry of Sylvia Plath Paper Plath’s real-life marriage to the poet Ted Hughes involved, as even a cursory glance of the biographic record indicates, a replication of the â€Å"Tyrant† theme associated with her father in her journals and in the poem â€Å"Daddy. † The sordid details of Plath’s marriage to Hughes involved sexual domination and submission, physical fighting, infidelity, poetic rivalry, and a exploration of occultism, including Cabalistic work and magickal operations. This latter consideration of magickal and cabalistic practices enjoins the poem â€Å"Daddy† in a veiled autobiographical reference â€Å"With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck/And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack/ I may be a bit of a Jew. † These lines may seem obscure — or purely within the invented scope of the poem; however, inspection of Plath’s biography reveals that these lines invoke her sense of oppression through mysticism likely brought upon by her magickal associations with Hughes. In addition to Cabala , astrology, and Tarot, Hughes practiced hypnosis on Plath seeking to guide her to self-affirmation and poetic inspiration. (Malcom). In â€Å"Daddy,† Plath identifies herself, mystically, as a persecuted Jew indicating that she regarded Hughes’ attempts to guide her as artificial and constraining of her own gifts, which, in turn, brought upon her own subjection to oppression. Instead of illumination, blackness, exudes from father and husband. Here, an important distinction between autobiography and narrative is made; a distinction which propels the poem in a Confessional mode from the merely personal, and thus becoming, perhaps, turgid or melodramatic rather than spell-binding and dramatic. This distinction is that Plath identifies her speaker with the Jews of the Auschwitz, Dachua, and Belsen concentration camps, exalting her personal mode of suffering brought upon by her fathers death and her abusive marriage to a stature that would resonate not merely with those familiar with the details of her life but with those who had never known her at all. We will write a custom essay sample on The Poetry of Sylvia Plath specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now We will write a custom essay sample on The Poetry of Sylvia Plath specifically for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Hire Writer We will write a custom essay sample on The Poetry of Sylvia Plath specifically for you FOR ONLY $16.38 $13.9/page Hire Writer That said, the poem gains its most sinister and perhaps most powerful energies from deeply autobiographical confession. That â€Å"Daddy† was written by Plath as an exercise in personal catharsis, as well as a lyric poem meant to excite large audiences, is obvious. The lines which seemingly abruptly refer to San Francisco: Ghastly statue with one gray toe / Big as a Frisco Seal / And a head in the freakish Atlantic. † identify the daddy in the poem â€Å"as a colossus who stretches across America from the Atlantic to the Pacifica colossus even larger than the one described in The Colossus. These seemingly obscure details are in fact references to Plaths father: the Ghastly statue with one gray toe is Otto Plaths gangrenous leg, and San Francisco Bay is where he conducted his research on muscid larvae. † (Plath 194). The poem’s narrative arc foreshadows suicide in the poem’s opening lines, and repeats the affirmation of suicide in the lines â€Å"At twenty I tried to die/ And get back, back, back to you.? I thought even bones would do. † Thus, suicide becomes the implicit form of revenge with the â€Å"stake† in Daddy’s â€Å"fat black heart† being the stake of death— and the poet’s death as an act of revenge and personal empowerment. Works Cited Annas, Pamela J. A Disturbance in Mirrors: The Poetry of Sylvia Plath. New York: Greenwood Press, 1988. Plath, Sylvia. The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. New York NY Anchor Books. 2000. Plath, Sylvia The Collected Poems New York NY: HarperPerennial 1992. Malcolm, Janet. The Silent Woman: Sylvia Plath Ted Hughes. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1994.

Business-Technology Alignment - Smart Custom Writing Samples

Business-Technology Alignment - Smart Custom Writing Innovative processThe innovative process is important for companies that want to realize their objective in the competitive and consumer driven market. Hassell (2003) says that the systems used in the innovative process are the most complex both in technical and social terms. Hassell (2003) says that the most commonly used model of the innovation process is the liner model. The four phases include research, development, evaluation or demonstration, and deployment phases. The first phase is known as the research phase. Starbuck will embark on researching on the problem and inventing a solution conceptually and not physically. Shapiro (2002) says that the purpose of this step is to learn how to use data more flexibly and it will help the team at Starbuck to create and find new perspectives on everyday facts and figures as far as their products are concerned.   During this phase the team involved in the innovation process will explore relationships and patterns between the existing products in order to open the door to truly revolutionary insights. Schwartz (2006) says that despite how the innovation is started the problem needs a proper description. Starbuck as a company should involve more people in order to come up with detailed and explicit representation of the problem. The second phase will involve development of a viable prototype of a solution or product protype. During this step Hassell (2003) says that once an invention is found in the first phase through research and brain-storming, it is refined and perfected through the development process. The team at Starbuck will develop a small scale or prototype product that provides a proof of concept that the innovation is technologically sound. In addition, Shapiro (2002) argues that â€Å"during the development phase the company will definitely figure out what is possible and not what would be the right solution† (30). In addition Schwartz (2006) says that during this phase a conceptual model for the implementation is developed which describes its planned solution on a conceptual level. The team at Starbuck will take into consideration the description, the problem and the idea as input. The third phase of the innovative process is the demonstration phase. Hassell (2003) says that â€Å"this phase involves coming up with a full scale prototype to prove not only the innovation’s technical viability but also that it meets the required safety standards, it is appealing to the consumer and can be produced at a reasonable cost† (p. 12). The company (Starbuck) will use this step to carry out an evaluation through independent evaluation and testing organizations which test the product to certify that it is safe and effective. According to Schwartz (2006) the evaluation phase tests the results produced during the innovation process. During this phase Starbuck will undertake a careful planning of the experimental design and analysis to make sure that there is a representative and valid results for the new product. The fourth phase of the innovative process entails deployment of the product. Hassell (2003) says that sometimes this phase is known as diffusion, commercialization, or marketing stage. Hassell indicated that during this phase Starbuck will work towards increasing the production or manufacture of the innovation and making it commercially available (2003). It is important to note that the outcome and success of this phase depends heavily on consumer demand, the cost of the product, regulatory acceptance, marketing efforts, and the cost and performance of competing products among other considerations (Hassell, 2003). Starbuck will in last phase take the newly developed product and will try to market it as profitable as possible or a new process is implemented and integrated into the operational workflow for its improvement and to obtain more cost effective performance (Schwartz, 2006). The company will also explore the technological domain in which it can effectively facilitate new insights and methodologies to be disseminated to the company’s areas of interest as well as the public at large. In conclusion, the above four phases will help Starbuck to go through the innovative process and come up with the required product. The innovative process will determine how the company edges its competitors in the domain of technological advancement and the development of new products that meet the customer needs. The research phase should involve brainstorming sessions as well as intensive research so as to determine what the market demands. After the development phase Starbuck should then carry out a thorough evaluation and then deployment to ensure that the product meets the required standards and demands of the consumers.    References Hassell, S. (2003). Building better homes: government strategies for promoting innovation in housing. Santa Monica, CA: Rand Corporation. Shapiro, S. M. (2002). 24/7 innovation: a blueprint for surviving and thriving in an age of change. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill Professional. Schwartz, D. G. (2006). Encyclopedia of knowledge management. Hershey, PA: Idea Group Inc (IGI).

HRD 495 Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words - 2

HRD 495 - Essay Example Media and Social Movements: An exploration of the ‘Green Movement’ in Iran.† In the article, the journalist posts an abstract written by Annabelle Sreberny. The abstract says that the post-election growth of a social movement by the name Green Movement was unexpected by many news agencies. It adds that a critical view into the post-election happening shows how difficult it is has been for Iran to embrace new media (wireless telecommunications) in traditional politics. Annabelle seeks to showcase the poly-media surrounding of young Iranians and explain the developments of Green Movement communication. It can therefore be concluded that wireless communication is vital in sustaining modern social movements. This form of communication is fast and can offer protection of its users from political influence and violation. In this day and age, the internet is highly employed by social media because of its efficiencies such as discreteness, affordability and speed in transferring information. The relationship between wireless telecommunications and social movements should be embraced in today’s word. Kristariley. (2011). Event at McGill this Week – Social Media and Social Movements in the Middle East and North Africa. Montreal: WordPress. Retrieved on 20th November 2011 from the World Wide Web

Management Roles Paper Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 500 words

Management Roles Paper - Essay Example Management roles, as presented by Henry Mintzberg (1980), are the most popular, compact set of managerial roles about managerial behavior, interpersonal relationships, and decision-making. These are ten management roles in total, comprised by 3 categories: Leader role. Under this role, the manager is expected to lead and supervise teams, motivate the subordinates, and train the employees. He gives them feedback about their performances, and makes constructive criticisms. Disturbance handler role. Under this role, the manager resolves conflicts among employees, arranges for mediators if necessary, and seeks to achieve the best solution to employees’ problems. He makes the employees adapt to changes and deal with crisis efficiently. Summing it up together, management roles are a diverse set of responsibilities that managers are expected to carry out. If they carry out these roles effectively, they become efficient managers that everyone at the workplace looks forward to. Each role is unique, with its demands and expectations. Henry Mintzberg has provided us with above mentioned management roles, which also serve as a guideline for all managers, and help us understand their importance and authority in the

Competencies Variations Between Associate Degree and Baccalaureate Degree Nurses Essay Example for Free

Competencies Variations Between Associate Degree and Baccalaureate Degree Nurses Essay Competencies Variation between Associate Degree and Baccalaureate Degree The difference in competencies between the associate degree and Baccalaureate degree nurse has been a topic for discussion for many years. Prior to the modern practice of nursing the sick was taken care of by non skilled persons such as sinners, saints or mothers (Fact Sheet). Modern nursing began with Florence Nightingale, but has evolved over the years to become a rich history that includes advances in education of nurses, thus forming three entry level of nursing, Diploma, Associate and Baccalaureate of nursing. This discussion will address the difference in competencies between the associate degree and Baccalaureate degree nurses. The ADN program was started to facilitate the need of nurses in the post war years. This is a two years program that teaches the nurse to provide comfort the physiologic stability and peaceful death. (Yoder 2010). This program was also seen as an ideal course for those who prefer a faster and inexpensive route of becoming a registered nurse. Even though the bedside practice of the ADN and BSN nurses are similar, the ADN nurse focuses on the practical assistance more than the theory. The difference in competencies can be seen in the extra two years required for the BSN program. These graduates are exposed to more prerequisites theory, leadership management, research and community based health courses. (Spensor 2008). They are more prepared for the ever changing heath care field because their main focus, are evidence –based practice. They are taught to think independently, use judgment, critical thinking, reasoning and decision making skills, to understand the situation at hand before providing care, and by utilizing these skill they are better able to work within interdisciplinary team and have better patient care outcome. An example of this was observed in a patient care situation on a med surgical unit, where the ADN nurse was taking care of a patient with history of uncontrolled diabetes and hypertension who was about to be discharged. His blood glucose was regularly monitored, medication was dispensed appropriately and she made sure that he was receiving the appropriate diet tray from the kitchen. However when his call light was answered by the BSN nurse she noticed that he had a packet of potato chips and some cookies on his bedside table that was open. She addressed his need, then told him that she noticed the cookies and potato chips at his bedside, which he admitted to be snacking on, and added that the cookies were sugar free and chips were not very salty and that was all he could really afford. The BSN nurse was able to address the situation at hand and was able to teach the pt that even though a packet may read sugar free did not mean it was ok to have. Since it can be loaded with carbohydrates, which break down into sugar. She then collaborated with interdisciplinary team of dietician and social services to prepare this patient for discharge, where this patient and his family were taught how to comply with his diet, by learning how read labels, choose foods, and the important of doing so. Social services ensure that he was provided with the information of community based resources in his neighborhood that will attend to his financial as well as his social needs. Even though the ADN nurse’s bedside nursing was appropriate, it was clear that the two extra years of understanding the concept behind the skills separated a nurse that use critical thinking from one that performed task. In response to the ever changing healthcare system a higher degree of nurses are sought. Therefore the nursing programs help to equip graduates to provide excellent and holistic care while encouraging them to achieve lifelong quest for knowledge and the pursuit of advance professional degree.

The Dilemma of Cloning Essay -- Argumentative Persuasive Topics

The Dilemma of Cloning      Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Man is quickly approaching the reality of cloning a human being. Once regarded as a fantastic vision dreamed up by imaginative novelists, the possibility of creating a person in the absence of sexual intercourse has crossed over the boundaries of science fiction and into our lives. While genetic engineering has helped improve the quality of life for many people, it poses many ethical and moral questions that few are prepared to answer. The most current and volatile debate surrounding human cloning seemed to surface when the existence of Dolly, a clone-sheep, was announced on February 23, 1997 by Ian Wilmut and colleagues at the Roslin Institute in Scotland. The cloning technique, which had never been successfully performed in mammals before, involved transplanting the genes of an adult male sheep with a differentiated somatic cell and transferring them into a female sheep's egg, of which the nucleus had been removed. Since Dolly contained the DNA of only one parent, she was deemed the "delayed" genetic twin of a single adult sheep (1). Since the spring of 1998, several other genetic clones have been announced, including the Massachusetts cell research firm's claim of "designer cattle" and the talk of a cloned mouse in June (2). Skeptics wondered, if such animals as mice and sheep can be cloned, what frontiers remains except for.....us? Recent legislation by the Clinton Administration, following the announcement of Dolly's birth put a ban on any funding whatsoever in support of science dictated toward human cloning. "Personally, I believe that human cloning raises deep concerns, given our cherished concepts of faith and humanity", the President said in a June 1997 national radio address (3)... ... of doing so, and the prospect of cloning a human being is an issue which must be carefully weighed by scientists and legislators alike. It is an event that can shape the history of mankind, but it is also an event that can create history in itself.    Works Cited (1) http://bioethics.gov/pubs/cloning1/executive.htm (2) http://www.reason. com/biclone.html (3) http://www.reson.com/biclone.html (4) http://www.reason.com/opeds/eibert.html (5) http://www.nejm.org/content/1998/0338/0013/0905.asp#tref-6 (6) http://www.nejm.org/content/1998/0338/0013/0905.asp#ref-6 (7) "Cloning: Legal, Medical, Ethical, and Social Issues". Hearing Before the Subcommittee on Health and Environment of the Committee on Commerce. Serial n. 105-70. February 12, 1998. Pp. 14 (8) http://cgi.pathfinder.com/time/magazine/articles/0,3266,17681,00.html

Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Two

â€Å"Are you kidding? I barely got off suspension in time to be allowed to come tonight.† Of course, at the moment Gabe was wishing the timing hadn't been so helpful. â€Å"I'm lucky I didn't get expelled.† â€Å"Mr. Reese had it coming. Everyone knows that.† â€Å"Yeah, he did,† Gabe said, a sudden edge sharpening his tone. Everyone at school was wary of Mr. Reese, but there wasn't much they could do until the math teacher crossed a line he shouldn't have. All the upperclassmen knew about Mr. Reese, too, but Gabe wasn't about to stand by while he stalked that clueless freshman kid†¦ Still, knocking out a teacher was a bit extreme. There was probably some better way to have handled the situation. His parents had been supportive, though, as usual. Logan interrupted his thoughts. â€Å"Maybe we should take off,† Logan said. â€Å"I'd feel bad-if Celeste needs a way home†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"That girl is not your type, Gabe.† She's pure evil-and a full-on whore, Logan could have added, but those just weren't the kinds of things you wanted to say about any girl while Gabe was in hearing range. â€Å"Let her get a ride with the guy sticking his tongue down her throat.† Gabe sighed and shook his head. â€Å"I'll wait to make sure she's okay.† Logan groaned. â€Å"I can't believe you asked her. Well, can we ditch out long enough to pick up a few decent CDs at least? Then we could hijack that pile of crap the DJ's playing†¦Ã¢â‚¬  â€Å"I like the way you think. I wonder if the limo driver would mind a side trip†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Logan and Gabe ended up in a mock argument over the best CDs to retrieve-the top five were obvious, but from there down the list was a little more subjective-both of them having a better time than they'd had all evening. It was funny, but as they joked around, Gabe had a sense that they were the only ones having a good time. Everyone in the room seemed to be frowning about something. And over in the corner by the stale cookies, it looked like a girl was crying. Wasn't that Evie Hess? And another girl, Ursula Tatum, also had red eyes and smeared mascara. Maybe the music and the punch weren't the only things about this prom that sucked. Clara and Bryan looked happy, but aside from those two, Gabe and Logan-both recently humiliated and rejected-seemed to be enjoying themselves more than everyone else. Less perceptive than Gabe, Logan didn't register the negative atmosphere until Libby and Dylan started arguing; abruptly, Libby stalked off the dance floor. That caught his attention at once. Logan shifted his weight, his eyes glued to Libby's departing figure. â€Å"Hey, Gabe, do you mind if I ditch you?† â€Å"Not at all. Go for it.† Logan nearly sprinted after her. Gabe wasn't sure what to do with himself now. Should he find Celeste and ask whether she minded if he bailed? He wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea of prying her loose from someone else in order to ask, though. He decided to get another bottle of water and find the quietest corner possible to wait for the evening to drag to an end. And then, as he went searching for that quiet corner, Gabe felt the strange pull again, stronger than he'd ever felt it in his life; it was like someone was drowning in black waters and screaming to him for help. He glanced around frantically, wondering where the urgent call was coming from. He couldn't understand the vital, jagged edge of this distress. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. For just a moment, his eyes locked on one girl-on her back, as she was walking away from him. The girl's hair was black and glossy, with a mirrorlike sheen. She wore a spectacular floor-length dress the color of flames. As Gabe watched, her earrings flashed once, like little red sparklers. Gabe began walking after her in an almost unconscious movement, drawn by the wrenching need that surrounded her. She turned slightly, and he got a glimpse of an unfamiliar pale, aquiline profile-full ivory lips and black slanting brows-before she ducked through the ladies' room door. Gabe was breathing hard with the effort of not following the girl into no-man's-land. He could feel her need sucking at him like quicksand. He leaned against the wall across from the bathroom, folded his arms tight across his chest, and tried to talk himself out of waiting for the girl. This lunatic instinct he had was way off base. Wasn't Celeste proof of that? It was all just imagination. Maybe he should leave now. But Gabe couldn't force his feet to move one step away. Though the girl barely reached five foot three inches in her stiletto heels, something about her figure-whip-slender and rod-straight as a fencing foil-made her appear tall. She was a walking contradiction in more ways than height-both dark and light with her inky hair and chalky skin, both delicate and hard with her tiny, sharp features, and both inviting and repellent with the mesmerizing undulations of her body under the hostile expression on her face. Only one thing about her was not ambiguous-her dress was, without question, a work of art: Bright red tongues of leather flame bared her pale shoulders and licked down her willowy curves until they kissed the floor. As she crossed the dance floor, female eyes followed the pathway of the dress with envy and male eyes followed it with lust. There was another phenomenon that followed her; as the girl in the fiery dress passed through the dancers, little gasps of horror and pain and embarrassment rippled out from around her in strange eddies that could only be coincidence. A high heel cracked, twisting the ankle inside it. A satin dress split along a seam from thigh to waist. A contact lens popped out and was lost on the dirty floor. A vital bra strap snapped in two. A wallet slipped from a pocket. An unexpected cramp announced an early period. A borrowed necklace scattered in a shower of pearls to the floor. And on and on-little disasters spinning small circles of misery. The pale dark girl smiled to herself as if she could somehow sense that misery in the air and enjoy it-taste it, perhaps, considering the way she licked her lips in appreciation. And then she frowned, furrowing her brow in fierce concentration. The one boy who was watching her face saw a strange red glitter near her earlobes, like shooting red sparks. Everyone else turned just then to stare at Brody Farrow, who clutched his arm and shouted in pain; the slight movement of the slow dancing had dislocated his shoulder. The girl in the red dress smirked. With her heels ringing sharply against the tile floor, she strode down the hall to the ladies' room. Faint moans of pain and chagrin trailed after her. A crowd of girls hovered in front of the wall-length mirrors inside the bathroom. They only had a moment to gape at the stunning dress, to notice how the slight girl inside it shivered briefly in the stuffy, too-warm room, before the chaos distracted them. It started with Emma Roland stabbing herself in the eye with a mascara wand. She flailed in dismay, striking the full glass of punch in Bethany Crandall's hand, which then drenched Bethany and stained three other dresses in the most inconvenient places. The atmosphere in the restroom was suddenly hotter than the temperature as one girl-sporting a hideous green smear across her chest-accused Bethany of throwing the punch on her purposely. The pale dark girl only smiled slightly at the brewing fight, and then strode to the farthest stall in the long room and locked the door behind her. She did not make use of the privacy the way one might expect. Instead-showing no fear of the less-than-sterile environment-the girl leaned her forehead against the metal wall and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands, balled into sharp little fists, also rested against the metal as if for support. If any of the girls in the ladies' room had been paying attention, they might have wondered what was causing the red glow that shone dully through the crack between the door and the wall. But no one was paying attention. The girl in the red dress clenched her teeth tightly together. From between them, a hot spurt of bright flame shot out and singed black patterns into the thin layer of tan paint on the metal wall. She started to pant, struggling with an invisible weight, and the fire burned hotter, thick fingers of red crackling against the cold metal. The fire reached up to her hair, but did not scorch the smooth, inky locks. Traces of smoke began to seep from her nose and ears. A shower of sparks popped from her ears as she whispered one word through her teeth. â€Å"Melissa.† Back out on the crowded dance floor, Melissa Harris looked up, distracted. Had someone just called her name? There didn't seem to be anyone close enough to be responsible for the low sound. Just her imagination, then. Melissa looked back at her date and tried to concentrate on what he was saying. Melissa wondered why she had agreed to go to the prom with Cooper Silverdale. He wasn't her type. A small boy, consumed with his own importance, with too much to prove. He'd been oddly hyper all night, bragging about his family and his possessions nonstop, and Melissa was tired of it. Another faint whisper caught Melissa's attention, and she turned. There, too far across the crowd to be the source behind the sound, Tyson Bell was staring straight at Melissa over the head of the girl he danced with. Melissa looked down at once, shuddering, trying not to care who he was with, forcing herself not to look. She moved closer to Cooper. Boring and shallow, maybe, but better than Tyson. Anyone was better than Tyson. Really? Is Cooper really the better option? The questions popped into Melissa's thoughts as if they came from someone else entirely. Involuntarily, she glanced up into Tyson's heavily lashed dark eyes. He was still staring. Of course Cooper was better than Tyson, no matter how beautiful Tyson was. That beauty was just part of the trap. Cooper babbled on, stumbling over his words as he tried to capture Melissa's interest. You're out of Cooper's league, the thought whispered. Melissa shook her head, embarrassed for thinking that way. It was vain. Cooper was just as good as she was, as good as any other boy. Not as good as Tyson. Remember how it was†¦ Melissa tried to keep the images out of her mind: Tyson's warm eyes, full of longing†¦ his hands, rough and soft against her skin†¦ his rich voice that made even the most common words sound like poetry†¦ the way just the lightest pressure of his lips against her fingers could send her pulse sprinting in her veins†¦ Her heart thumped, aching. Deliberately, Melissa dredged up a new memory to combat the rebel images. Tyson's iron fist smashing into the side of her face without warning-the black spots blossoming in front of her eyes-her hands bracing against the floor-vomit choking in her throat-raw pain shaking her whole body- He was sorry. So sorry. He promised. Never again. Unwanted, the image of Tyson's coffee eyes swimming with tears clouded her vision. Reflexively, Melissa's eyes sought Tyson. He was still staring. His forehead creased, his eyebrows pulled together, grief-stricken†¦ Melissa shuddered again. â€Å"Are you cold? Do you want my-?† Cooper half-shrugged out of his tuxedo jacket and then stopped himself, his face flushing. â€Å"You can't be cold. It's so hot in here,† he said lamely as he withdrew the offer, buttoning the jacket back into place. â€Å"I'm fine,† Melissa assured him. She forced herself to look only at his sallow, boyish face. â€Å"This place kinda sucks,† Cooper said, and Melissa nodded, happy to agree with him. â€Å"We could go to my father's country club. There's an incredible restaurant, if you're in the mood for dessert. We won't have to wait for a table. As soon as I mention my name†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Melissa's attention wandered again. Why am I here with this little snob? asked the thought that was so strangely unfamiliar in her head, though it came in her own voice. He's a weakling. So what if he couldn't hurt a kitten? Isn't there more to love than safety? I don't feel the same need in my stomach when I look at Cooper-when I look at anyone besides Tyson†¦ I can't lie to myself. I still want him. So much. Isn't that love, that wanting? Melissa wished she hadn't drunk so much of that vile, burning punch. It was impossible to think clearly. She watched as Tyson left his partner stranded and crossed the floor until he stood right in front of her-the perfect broad-shouldered football hero cliche. It was as if Cooper didn't exist there between them. â€Å"Melissa?† he asked in his melting voice, sorrow twisting his features. â€Å"Melissa, please!† He held his hand out toward her, ignoring Cooper's wordless spluttering. Yes yes yes yes yes chanted in her head. A thousand memories of desire rocked through her. Her clouded mind buckled. Hesitantly, Melissa nodded. Tyson smiled in relief, in joy, and pulled her around Cooper and into his arms. It was just so easy to go with him. Melissa's blood ran through her veins like fire. Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Two The mist of nothing slipped slowly from me in a painful series of prickles and the sound of two people arguing. I felt sick, not from my entire back tingling so painfully I could hardly stand to breathe, but from the feeling of helpless fear that the hushed, back-and-forth voices pulled from my past. I could almost smell the moldy fluff of my stuffed rabbit as I had curled into a ball and listened to the two people who were my entire world frighten me beyond belief. That they had both told me it hadn't been my fault hadn't lessened my grief at all. Grief I had to hold inside until it became a part of me. Pain that adhered to my bones. To cry in my mother's arms would say I loved her more. To cry into my dad's shoulder would say I loved him best. It was a crappy way to grow up. But this†¦ this wasn't my parents arguing. It sounded like two kids. I took a breath to find it came easier. The last of the haze started to fade with the tingles, and my lungs moved, aching as if someone were sitting on them. Realizing my eyes were shut, I opened them to find a blurry black just before my nose. There was a heavy, plasticky smell. â€Å"She was sixteen when she got in that car. It's your fault,† a young but masculine voice said hotly, oddly muffled. I was getting the distinct impression that the argument had been going on for some time, but I only remembered snatches of it amid uneasy thoughts of nothing. â€Å"You are not going to put this on me,† a girl said, her voice just as hushed and determined. â€Å"She was seventeen when he flipped her coin. This is your screwup, not mine. God save you, she was right in front of you! How could you miss it?† â€Å"I missed it because she wasn't seventeen!† he shot back. â€Å"She was sixteen when he picked her up. How was I supposed to know he was after her? How come you weren't there? You slipped up big time.† The girl gasped in affront. I was cold. Taking a deeper breath, I felt a surge of strength. Fewer tingles, more aches. It was stuffy, my breath coming back warm to me. It wasn't dark; I was in something. â€Å"You little piss-ant!† the girl snapped. â€Å"Don't tell me I slipped up. She died at seventeen. That's why I wasn't there. I was never notified.† â€Å"But I don't do sixteen,† he said, his voice going nasty. â€Å"I thought he was flipping the boy.† I suddenly realized the black blur throwing back my breath was a sheet of plastic. My hands came up, and my nails pushed through it in a stab of fear. Almost panicking, I sat up. I'm on a table? It sure felt hard enough for one. I shoved the plastic off me. Two kids were standing by a set of dirty white swinging doors, and they spun in surprise. The girl's pale face went red, and the guy backed up as if embarrassed to have been caught arguing with her. â€Å"Oh!† the girl said, tossing her long dark braid behind her. â€Å"You're up. Uh, hi. I'm Lucy, and this is Barnabas.† The guy dropped his eyes and waved sheepishly. â€Å"Hey,† he said. â€Å"How you doing?† â€Å"You were with Josh,† I said, my finger shaking as I pointed, and he nodded, still not looking at me. His costume looked odd next to her shorts and tank top. Both of them wore a black stone pendant around their necks. They were dull and insignificant, but my eye went to them because they were the only thing the two shared. Other than their anger at each other and their surprise at me. â€Å"Where am I?† I said, and Barnabas winced, a tall form scuffing his feet against the tile. â€Å"Where's Josh?† I hesitated, realizing I was in a hospital, but†¦ Wait a minute. I was in a freaking body bag? â€Å"I'm in the morgue?† I blurted. â€Å"What am I doing in the morgue?† Moving wildly, I got my legs out of the plastic bag and slid to the floor, heels clicking in some weird counterpoint as I caught my balance. There was a tag on a rubber band around my wrist, and I yanked it off, taking some hair along with it. I had a long rip in my skirt, and heavy grease marked it. Dirt and grass were plastered to me, and I stank of field and antiseptic. So much for getting my deposit back. â€Å"Someone made a mistake,† I said as I shoved the tag in a pocket, and Lucy snorted. â€Å"Barnabas,† she said, and he stiffened. â€Å"This is not my fault!† he exclaimed, rounding on her. â€Å"She was sixteen when she got in that car. I don't do sixteen! How was I supposed to know it was her birthday?† â€Å"Yeah? Well, she was seventeen when she died, so it is your problem!† Dead? Were they blind? â€Å"You know what?† I said, feeling more steady the longer I stood here. â€Å"You two can argue till the sun goes nova, but I have to find someone and tell them I'm okay.† Heels clicking, I headed for the dirty white twin doors. â€Å"Madison, wait,† the guy said. â€Å"You can't.† â€Å"Watch me,† I said. â€Å"My dad is going to be so-o-o-o ticked.† I strode past them, getting twenty feet before a feeling of disconnection hit me. Dizzy, I put a hand to an empty table as the odd sensation roared from nowhere. My hand cramped where it rested, and I pulled it away as if burned when it seemed the coldness of metal had touched my bone. I felt†¦ spongy. Thin. The soft hum of the ventilation grew muffled. Even the pounding of my heart became distant. I turned, hand to my chest to try and make it feel normal again. â€Å"What†¦Ã¢â‚¬  From across the room, Barnabas shrugged his thin shoulders. â€Å"You're dead, Madison. Sorry. You get too far from our amulets, and you start to lose substance.† He gestured to the gurney, and I looked. My breath slammed out of me. Knees buckling, I half fell against the empty table. I was still there. I mean, I was still on the gurney. I was lying on the cart in a torn body bag, looking far too small and pale, my elaborate dress bunched up around me in an elegant display of forgotten grace out of time. I was dead? But I could feel my heart beat. Limbs going weak, I started to crumple. â€Å"Swell. She's a fainter,† the girl said dryly. Barnabas lurched forward to catch me. His arms slid around me and my head lolled. At his touch, everything rushed back: sounds, smells, and even my pulse. My lids fluttered. Inches from me, Barnabas's lips pressed tight. He was so close, and I thought I could smell sunflowers. â€Å"Why don't you shut up?† he said to Lucy as he eased me to the floor. â€Å"Show a little compassion? That's your job, you know.† The cold from the tile soaked into me, seeming to clear the gray about my sight. How could I be dead? Did the dead pass out? â€Å"I'm not dead,† I said unsteadily, and Barnabas helped me sit up and put my back to a table leg. â€Å"Yes, you are.† He crouched beside me, his brown eyes wide and concerned. Sincere. â€Å"I'm really sorry. I thought he was going to flip Josh. They usually don't leave evidence like a car behind like that. You must really be a broken feather in their wing.† My thoughts flashed to the crash, and I put a hand to my stomach. Josh had been there. I remember that. â€Å"He thinks I'm dead. Josh, I mean.† From across the room came Lucy's caustic â€Å"You are dead.† I sent my gaze to the gurney, and Barnabas shifted to block my view. â€Å"Who are you?† I asked as the dizziness slipped away. Barnabas stood. â€Å"We, ah, are Reconnaissance Error Acquisitions Personnel. Evaluation and Recovery.† I thought about that. Reconnaissance Error Acquisitions†¦ R.E.A.P.E.R.? Holy crap! A surge of adrenaline shot through me. I scrambled up, eyes fixed on me on the gurney. I was here. I was alive! That might be me, but I was standing here, too. â€Å"You're grim reapers!† I exclaimed, feeling my way around the table and putting it between us. My toes started to go numb, and I stopped, my gaze darting to the amulet around Barnabas's neck. â€Å"Oh my God, I'm dead,† I whispered. â€Å"I can't be dead. I'm not ready to be dead. I'm not done yet! I'm only seventeen!† â€Å"We're not grim reapers.† Lucy had her arms crossed defensively as if it were a sore spot. â€Å"We're white reapers. Black reapers kill people before their coin should be flipped, white reapers try to save them, and grim reapers are treacherous betrayers who brag too much and won't survive to see the sun turn back to dust.† Barnabas looked embarrassed as he shuffled his feet. â€Å"Grim reapers are white reapers who were tricked into working for†¦ the other side. They don't do much culling since black reapers don't let them, but if there is a sudden, massive death toll, you know they'll show to pull a few souls early, in as dramatic a way as possible. They're hacks. No class at all.† This last was said with a bitter voice, and I wondered at the rivalry, backing up until I started going spongy again. Eyeing their amulets, I edged forward until the feeling went away. â€Å"You kill people. That's what Seth said. He said something about culling my soul! You do kill people!† Barnabas ran a hand across the back of his neck. â€Å"Ah, we don't. Most of the time.† He glanced at Lucy. â€Å"Seth is a black reaper, a dark reaper. We only show up when they target someone out of time, or there's been a mistake.† â€Å"Mistake?† My head swung up in hope. Did that mean they could put me back? Lucy came forward. â€Å"You weren't supposed to die, see. A dark reaper took you out before your coin should have been flipped. It's our job to stop them, but we can't sometimes. We're here to make a formal apology and get you where you're going.† Frowning, she looked at Barnabas. â€Å"And as soon as he admits it was his fault, I can get out of here.† I stiffened, refusing to look at me on the gurney. â€Å"I'm not going anywhere. If you made a mistake, fine. Just put me back! I'm right there.† I took a step forward, scared out of my mind. â€Å"You can, right?† Barnabas winced. â€Å"It's kinda too late. Everyone knows you're dead.† â€Å"I don't care!† I shouted. Then my face went cold in a sudden thought. Dad. He thought I was†¦ â€Å"Dad†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I whispered, panicking. Taking a breath, I turned to the swinging doors and broke into a run. â€Å"Wait! Madison!† Barnabas shouted, but I hit the doors hard, stumbling through them even though they only swung three inches. But I was in the next room. I had sort of passed through them. As if I weren't even there. There was a fat guy at a desk, and he looked up at the tiny squeak the doors made shifting. His little piggy eyes widened, and he took a huge breath. Mouth open, he pointed. â€Å"There's been a mistake,† I blurted, heading to the open archway and the dimly lit hall. â€Å"I'm not dead.† But I was feeling really weird again. Misty and thin. Stretched. Nothing sounded right, either, and the gray was edging my sight to make a tunnel-like vision. Behind me, Barnabas pushed through the doors. Immediately the world shifted to normal. It was the amulet he wore that kept me solid. I had to get me one of those. â€Å"Yes, she is,† he said, never slowing down until he grabbed my wrist. â€Å"You're hallucinating. She's not really here. Neither am I.† â€Å"Where did you come from?† the guy managed, staring. â€Å"How did you get in there?† Lucy shoved in, the swinging door banging against the wall to make me and Desk Guy jump. â€Å"Madison, quit being a stiff. You gotta go.† This was too much for the technician, and he reached for the phone. I twisted my wrist, but Barnabas wouldn't release me. â€Å"I have to talk to my dad!† I exclaimed, and he yanked me off balance. â€Å"We're leaving,† he said, a new threat in his eyes. â€Å"Right now.† Frantic, I stomped on his foot. Barnabas howled, his gangly form bending double as he let go. Lucy laughed at him, and I darted for the hallway. Try to stop me, I thought, then ran right into something big, warm, and smelling of silk. I backed up, becoming scared when I saw it was Seth. He had killed me with a sword that left no mark when driving me off a cliff failed to do it. He was a dark reaper. He was my death. â€Å"Why are there two of you?† he asked as he looked at Barnabas and Lucy. The cadence of his voice was familiar, but the sound of it hit my ears wrong. And the scent of sea now smelled like rot. â€Å"That's right,† he added, pulling his gaze back to me, and I shuddered. â€Å"You died on the anniversary of your birth. Two reapers. My, my, my. Such the drama queen, Madison. I'm glad you're up. It's time to go.† Hunched and afraid, I retreated. â€Å"Don't touch me.† â€Å"Madison!† Barnabas shouted. â€Å"Run!† But there was only the morgue to run to. Lucy got in front of me, hands spread wide as if she could stop Seth with her will alone. â€Å"What are you doing here?† she said, voice shaking. â€Å"She's already dead. You can't flip her twice.† Seth scuffed his shoes confidently. â€Å"As you said, I flipped her coin. She's mine if I want her.† Barnabas paled. â€Å"You never come back for them. You're†¦Ã¢â‚¬  His eyes darted to the stone about Seth's neck. â€Å"You're not a black reaper, are you?† Seth grinned as if it was a big joke. â€Å"No. I'm not. I'm a little bit more. More than you can handle. Leave, Barnabas. Just walk away. It won't hurt if you do.† I stared at Barnabas, helpless. His brown eyes met mine, saw my fear. I watched him visibly gather his courage. â€Å"Barnabas!† Lucy shouted, terrified. â€Å"Don't!† But Barnabas launched himself at the dark figure in black silk. In a motion so casual it was frightening, Seth turned to smack him with the back of his hand. Arms and legs flailing, Barnabas flew backward, hitting the wall and slumping to the floor, out cold. â€Å"Run!† Lucy shouted, pushing me toward the morgue. â€Å"Stay in the sun. Don't let the black wings touch you. We'll get help. Someone will find you. Get out of here!† â€Å"How?† I exclaimed. â€Å"He's in front of the only door.† Seth moved again, this time backhanding Lucy. She crumpled where she stood, leaving only me since the technician had either passed out or was hiding under the desk. Jaw trembling, I stood to my full height-such as it was-and tugged my dress straight. Deeper in it yet, apparently. â€Å"She meant,† Seth said, his voice both familiar and strange, â€Å"to run through the walls. You had a better chance against the black wings in the sun than with me under the ground.† â€Å"But I can't†¦Ã¢â‚¬  I started, then looked at the swinging doors. I went through them, having shifted them open only a few inches. What the heck was I? A ghost? Seth smiled, chilling me. â€Å"Nice to see you, Madison, now that I can really†¦ see you.† He took off his mask and let it drop. His face was beautiful, like chiseled stone made soft. I licked my lips and went cold to the bone when I remembered him kissing me. Holding one arm to myself, I backed away, trying to get out of Barnabas's and Lucy's influence so I could run through the walls. Hey, if Mr. Creepy thought I could do it, then maybe I could. Seth followed, step for step. â€Å"We leave together. No one will believe I culled you unless I throw you at their feet.† Heels clicking, I kept moving. My gaze darted to Barnabas and Lucy, both still sprawled on the tile. â€Å"I'd rather stay, thanks.† My heart pounded, and my back hit the wall. A little yelp slipped from me. I was far enough away from them that I should be misty, but I wasn't. I stared at Seth, then at that black stone about his neck. It was the same. Damn it! â€Å"You don't have a choice,† he said. â€Å"I'm the one that killed you. You're mine.† He reached out, grabbing my wrist. Adrenaline surged, and I twisted. â€Å"The hell I am,† I said, then kicked him in the shins. He clearly felt it, grunting as he bent in pain, but didn't let go. He had put his face in my reach, though, and grabbing his hair, I slammed his nose against my rising knee. I felt cartilage snap, and my stomach turned. Cursing in a language that hurt my head, he let go and fell back. I had to get out of here. I had to be solid or I'd never make it. Heart pounding, I grabbed the stone about his neck, pulling the necklace over his ears and off him. It tingled in my hand like fire, and I clenched my fingers around it, willing to suffer if it meant I would be whole. Seth hit the floor, gaping up at me with red blood covering his face. He looked as surprised as if he had run into a glass wall. â€Å"Madison†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Barnabas rasped from the floor. I turned, seeing him stare at me with pain-laced, unfocused eyes. â€Å"Run,† he gasped. Seth's amulet in my hand, I turned to the open hallway†¦ and I ran. Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Two EIGHT HOURS EARLIER†¦ â€Å"Foxy girls know that silence may be golden-but only for four seconds. Anything longer and you re heading for Awkward Avenue,† Miranda read, then frowned at the book. â€Å"If you feel the countdown creeping, make him an offer! A simple ‘Would you like some nuts? said with a smile can break the silence stagnation in a snap. Remember, foxy is as foxy does.† Miranda was starting to deeply distrust How to Get-And Kiss! – Your Guy. Leaning against the side of the black Town Car parked in the loading zone at the Santa Barbara Municipal Airport that June evening, she thought of how totally thrilled she'd been when she'd found it at the bookstore. It looked like an and-they-all-lived-happily-ever-after dream come true in book form-who wouldn't want to learn â€Å"The Five Facial Expressions That Will Change Your Life† or â€Å"The Secrets of the Tongue Tantra Only Da Pros Know†? – but having done all the exercises, she wasn't convinced of the transformative powers of the Winsome Smile or spending half an hour a day sucking on a grape. It wasn't the first time a self-help book had let her down-Procrastinate No More and Make Friends with YOU had both been total disasters-but it was depressing because she'd had such high hopes this time. And because, as her best friend, Kenzi, recently pointed out, any senior in high school who acted like Miranda did around her crush really, really needed help. She tried another passage. â€Å"Rephrase one of his questions back to him, adding that hint of suggestion with a raised eyebrow. Or pick up the conversation with a pickup line! You: Are we in the china section? Him: No, why? You: Because you are fine. If china isn't your thing, this one never fails to launch-You: Are you wearing space pants? Him: No, why? You: Because your butt is-â€Å" â€Å"Hello, Miss Kiss.† Miranda looked up and found herself staring up at the cleft chin and tanned face of Deputy Sergeant Caleb Reynolds. She must have been really distracted to not even have heard his heartbeat when he approached. It was distinctive, with a little echo at the end, kind of like a one-two-three cha-cha beat (she'd learned about the cha-cha beat from You Can Dance! another massively unfortunate self-help experience). He'd probably have trouble with that when he got old, but at twenty-two it didn't seem to be stopping him from going to the gym, at least from the looks of his pecs, biceps, shoulders, forearms, wrists- Stop staring. Since she had an attack of Crazy Mouth whenever she tried to talk to a cute guy-let alone Santa Barbara's youngest sheriff's deputy, who was only four years older than she and who surfed every morning before work and who was cool enough to get away with wearing sunglasses even though it was almost 8:00 p.m.-she said, â€Å"Hi, deputy. Come here often?† Causing him to frown. â€Å"No.† â€Å"No, you wouldn't, why would you? Me either. Well, not that often. Maybe once a week. Not often enough to know where the bathrooms are. Ha-ha!† Thinking, not for the first time, that life should come with a trapdoor. Just a little exit hatch you could disappear through when you'd utterly and completely mortified yourself. Or when you had spontaneous zit eruptions. â€Å"Good book?† he asked, taking it from her and reading the subtitle, â€Å"A Guide for Good Girls Who (Sometimes) Want to Be Bad† out loud. But life did not come with a trapdoor. â€Å"It's for a school project. Homework. On, um, mating rituals.† â€Å"Thought crime was more your thing.† He hit her with one of his half smiles, too cool to pull out a big grin. â€Å"You planning on foiling any more convenience store heists any time soon?† That had been a mistake. Not stopping the guys who'd held up Ron's 24-Hour Open Market #3, but sticking around long enough to let the police see her. For some reason they'd found it hard to believe that she'd just been leaning against the lamppost when it fell across the front of the robbers' car as it sped through the intersection. It was sad how suspicious people were, especially people in law enforcement. And school administration. But she'd learned a lot since then. â€Å"I'm trying to keep it to one heist a month,† she said, hoping for a light, ha-ha-I'm-just-kidding-foxy-is-as-foxy-does tone. â€Å"Today it's just my regular job, VIP airport pickup.† Miranda heard his cha-cha heartbeat speed up slightly. Maybe he thought VIPs were cool. â€Å"That boarding school you go to, Chatsworth Academy? They let you off campus any time you want or only certain days?† â€Å"Wednesday and Saturday afternoons, if you're a senior. We don't have classes then,† she said and heard his heartbeat pick up more. â€Å"Wednesday and Saturday afternoons free. What do you do for fun?† Was he asking her out? No. Way. NOWAYNOWAYNOWAY! Flirt! she ordered herself. Winsome Smile! Say something! Anything! Be foxy! Now! â€Å"What do you do for fun?† she repeated his question back to him, raising one eyebrow for that hint of suggestion. He seemed taken aback for a second, then said very formally, â€Å"I work, Miss Kiss.† Please give a warm welcome to Miranda Kiss, our new Miss Idiot Girl of the year, she thought. Said: â€Å"Of course. Me too. I mean, I'm either driving clients or at team practice. I'm one of Tony Bosun's Bee Girls? The Roller Derby team? That's why I do this,† meaning to point to the Town Car but bashing it with her hand instead. â€Å"You have to be a driver for Tony's company, 5Bs Luxury Transport, to be on the team. We usually only have games on the weekends, but we practice on Wednesdays, sometimes on other days†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Crazy Mouth trailed off. â€Å"I've seen the Bees play. That's a professional team, isn't it? They let a high school student play?† Miranda swallowed. â€Å"Oh, sure. Of course.† He looked at her over the top of his sunglasses. â€Å"Okay, I had to lie to get on the team. Tony thinks I'm twenty. You won't tell him, will you?† â€Å"He believed you were twenty?† â€Å"He needed a new jammer.† Deputy Reynolds chuckled. â€Å"So you're the jammer? You're good. I can see why he might have made an exception.† Eyeing her some more. â€Å"I never would have recognized you.† â€Å"Well, you know, we wear those wigs and the gold masks over our eyes so we all look the same.† It was one of the things she liked about Roller Derby, the anonymity, the fact that no one knew who you were, what your skills were. It made her feel invulnerable, safe. No one could single you out for†¦ anything. Deputy Reynolds took his sunglasses all the way off now to look at her. â€Å"So you put on one of those red, white, and blue satin outfits? The ones with the short skirts and that cute cape? I'd like to see that sometime.† He smiled at her, right into her eyes, and her knees went weak and her mind started playing out a scenario involving him without his shirt but with a pitcher of maple syrup and a big- â€Å"Well, there's my lady,† he said. â€Å"Catch you.† And then walked away. – stack of pancakes. Miranda watched him go up to a woman in her early twenties-thick blond hair, thin but muscular-put his arm around her, and kiss her neck. The kind of woman whose bras had tags that said, SIZE 36c, not MADE BY SANRIO in them. Heard him saying excitedly, â€Å"Wait until we get to the house. I've got some amazing new toys, something special just for you,† his voice husky, heart racing. As he passed Miranda, he lifted his chin in her direction and said, â€Å"You stay out of trouble.† â€Å"Yeah, you too,† Crazy Mouth told him. Miranda wanted to bang her head against the top of the car at how idiotic she was. She tried to give a Lite Laff (expression number four from the book) but ended up making herself choke instead. When they were across the parking lot, she heard the woman asking who she was and heard Deputy Reynolds say, â€Å"The local Town Car driver.† â€Å"She's the driver?† the woman said. â€Å"Looks like one of those girls from Hawaiian Airlines you used to date, but younger. And cuter. You know how your judgment gets around cute young girls. You're sure I don't need to be concerned?† Miranda heard him laugh, the genuine amusement in his voice as he said, â€Å"Her? Baby, she's just a high school student who has a crush on me. Trust me, you've got nothing to worry about.† And thought: Trap. Door. Now. Please. Sometimes having superhearing supersucked. Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Two And he wants me to know that he's coming. He's playing with me now†¦ just like his father played with Mom, before he†¦ well, did what he did to her. Then I hear a strange sound-a sort of whoosh-followed by another â€Å"Dammit!† What is happening? â€Å"Sebastian.† Lila's voice sounds bemused. â€Å"Someone is shooting ketchup at you!† What? Did she just say†¦ ketchup?. And then, as I carefully turn to try to get a look past the pillar to see what Lila is talking about, I see him. Not Sebastian. His shooter. And I can hardly believe my eyes. What's he doing here? Adam It's all Ted's fault. He's the one who said we should follow them on their date. I was like, â€Å"Why?† † ‘Cause the dude's trouble, man,† Ted said. Except there's no way Ted could have known that. Drake had basically turned up from out of nowhere outside Lila's Park Avenue apartment building just the night before. Ted had never even met him. How could he know anything about the guy? Anything at all? But when I mentioned this, Ted said, â€Å"Dude, have you looked at him?† I have to admit, the T Man has a point. I mean, the guy looks like he walked straight out of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog or something. You can't trust a guy who's that, well, perfect. Still, I'm not down with following other guys around. It's not cool. Even if, like Ted said, it was just to make sure Lila didn't get into trouble. I know Lila is Ted's lady-ex-lady now, thanks to Drake. And okay, she's never been the shiniest fork in the drawer. But following her on this date with the dude she's hooked up with? That just seemed like a bigger waste of time than-well, that two thousand-word, double-spaced essay I've got due in Mrs. Gregory's U.S. History class on Monday. Then Ted had to go and suggest I bring the Beretta 9mm. The thing is, even though it's just a water pistol, toy guns that look as real as that are illegal in Manhattan. So I haven't really had an opportunity to use mine much. Which Ted knows. And is probably why he kept going on about how freaking hilarious it would be if we soaked the guy. Because he knew I wouldn't be able to resist. The ketchup was my idea. And, yeah, it is pretty juvenile. But what the hell else am I going to do on a Friday night? It beats a U.S. History paper. Anyway, I told the T Man I guessed I'd be down with his plan. So long as I was the one who got to do the shooting. Which was fine with Ted. â€Å"I just gotta know, man,† he'd said, shaking his head. â€Å"Know what?† â€Å"What this Sebastian dude's got,† he said, â€Å"that I don't.† I could've told him, of course. I mean, it's pretty obvious to anyone who freaking looks at Drake what he's got that Ted doesn't. Ted's a decent-looking guy and all, but Abercrombie material he is not. Still, I didn't say anything. Because the T Man was really hurtin' over this one. And I could sort of understand why. Lila's just one of those girls, you know? All big brown eyes and big, well, other parts, too. But I won't go there on account of my sister, Veronica, who says I need to stop thinking of women as sex objects and start thinking of them as future partners in the inevitable struggle to survive in postapocalyptic America (which Veronica's writing her senior thesis on because she feels the apocalypse is going to occur sometime in the next decade, due to the country's current state of religious fanaticism and environmental recklessness, both of which were present at the fall of Rome and various other societies that no longer exist). So that's how me and the T Man ended up at Swig-fortunately, Ted's uncle Vinnie is their liquor distributor, which is how we got in, and without having to go through the metal detector like everybody else-shooting ketchup at Sebastian Drake with my Beretta 9mm water pistol. I know I was supposed to be home doing that paper for Mrs. Gregory, but a guy's got to have some fun, right? And it was fun to see those red stains spurting all over the guy's chest. The T Man was actually laughing for the first time since Lila sent him that text message during lunch, telling him that he was on his own for the prom, because she was going with Drake. Everything was going great†¦ until I saw Drake staring at that pillar over to one side of the dance floor. Which didn't make any sense. You'd have thought he'd have been looking over at us, in our VIP booth (thanks, Uncle Vinnie), considering that's the direction the ketchup assault was coming from. That's when I noticed there was somebody hiding behind it. The pillar, I mean. Not just any somebody, either, but Mary, that new girl from my U.S. History class, the one who never talks to anybody but Lila. And she was holding a crossbow. A crossbow. How the hell did she get a crossbow through the metal detector? No way does she know Ted's uncle Vinnie. Not that it matters. All that matters is that Drake's staring at the pillar Mary's crouched behind like he can see straight through it. There's something about the way he's looking over at her that makes me†¦ well, all I know is that is not where I want that guy looking. â€Å"Moron,† I mutter. Mostly about Drake. But also about myself, a little. And then I aim and shoot once more. â€Å"Oh, snap,† Ted yells happily. â€Å"Did you see that? Right in the ass!† That gets Drake's attention, all right. He turns†¦ †¦ and suddenly, I get what they mean about blazing eyes. You know, in Stephen King books, or whatever? I never thought I'd actually see a pair. But that's exactly what Drake's got, as he stares at us. Eyes that are most definitely blazing. Come on, I find myself thinking in Drake's direction. That's right. Come on over here, Drake. You wanna fight? I've got a lot more than just ketchup, dude. Which isn't exactly true. But it doesn't end up mattering, because Drake doesn't come over anyway. Instead, he disappears. I don't mean that he turns around and leaves the club. I mean that one minute he's standing there, and the next he's†¦ well, he's just gone. For a second the fog from the dry ice seems to get thicker-and when it clears, Lila is dancing by herself. â€Å"Here,† I say, thrusting the Beretta into Ted's hand. â€Å"What the-† Ted scans the dance floor. â€Å"Where'd he go?† But I've already taken off. â€Å"Grab Lila,† I yell back at Ted. â€Å"And meet me out front.† Ted utters some pretty choice expletives after that, but no one even notices. The music's too loud, and everyone's having too good a time. I mean, if they didn't notice us shooting at some dude with a ketchup-filled water gun-or a few seconds later, that dude literally vanishing into thin air-they're hardly likely to notice Ted shouting the F word. I reach the pillar and look down. She's there, panting as if she's just run a marathon or something. She's got the crossbow clutched to her chest like a kid's security blanket. Her face is as white as notebook paper. â€Å"Hey,† I say to her, gently. I don't want to startle her. But I do anyway. She practically jumps out of her skin at the sound of my voice and turns wide, frightened eyes up at me. â€Å"Hey, take it easy,† I say. â€Å"He's gone. Okay?† â€Å"He's gone?† Her eyes-green as the Great Lawn in Central Park in May-stare up at me. And there's no missing the terror in them. â€Å"How-what?† â€Å"He just vanished,† I say with a shrug. â€Å"I saw him looking at you. So I shot him.† â€Å"You what?† Prom Nights from Hell Chapter Two Gee, thanks, Madame Z, I thought. Could we dig a little deeper here? Give me something to work with? â€Å"But is he-I mean, the person-going to act on his passion?† I was brazen, despite my knotted stomach. â€Å"To act or not to act†¦ that is the question?† Madame Z said. â€Å"Yes, that is the question.† â€Å"Ahhh. That is always the question. And what one must always ask oneself-† She broke off. Her eyes flew to Will, and she paled. â€Å"What?† I demanded. â€Å"Nothing,† she said. â€Å"Something,† I said. Her message-from-the-spirits performance wasn't fooling me. She wanted us to think she'd been suddenly possessed? That she'd had a stark and powerful vision? Fine! Just get to the bloody answer! Madame Z made a show of pulling herself together, complete with a long, shaky draw on her cigarette. Looking dead at me, she said, â€Å"If a tree falls in a forest, and no one's there to hear it, does it still make a sound?† â€Å"Huh?† I said. â€Å"That's all I've got. Take it or leave it.† She seemed agitated, so I took it. Although I made cuckoo eyes at Yun Sun when Madame Z wasn't watching. Will claimed not to have a specific question, but Madame Z was oddly insistent on relaying a message to him anyhow. She waved her hands over his aura and warned him sternly of heights, which was curiously appropriate as Will was an avid rock climber. What was more curious was Will's reaction. First his eyebrows shot up, and then a different emotion took over, like some secret anticipatory pleasure. He glanced at me and blushed. â€Å"What's going on?† I asked. â€Å"You have your sneaky face on.† â€Å"Exsqueeze me?† he said. â€Å"What are you not telling us, Will Goodman?† â€Å"Nothing, I swear!† â€Å"Don't be stupid, boy!† Madame Z harped. â€Å"Listen to what I'm saying.† â€Å"Oh, you don't have to worry about him,† I said. â€Å"He's a total Mr. Safety.† I turned back to Will. â€Å"For real. Do you have a fabulous new climbing spot? A brand-new shiny carabiner?† â€Å"It's Yun Sun's turn,† Will said. â€Å"Yun Sun, go.† â€Å"Can you read palms?† Yun Sun asked Madame Z. Madame Z exhaled, and she was barely engaged as she traced her finger over the plump pad below Yun Sun's thumb. â€Å"You will be as beautiful as you allow yourself to be,† she told her. That was it. Those were her pearls of wisdom. Yun Sun seemed as underwhelmed as I was, and I felt like protesting on all our behalves. I mean, seriously! A tree in the forest? Be careful of heights? You will be as beautiful as you allow yourself to be? Even with her somewhat convincing touches of atmospheric creepiness, the three of us were getting cheated. Me in particular. But before I could say anything, a cell phone on the desk rang. Madame Z picked it up and used a long orange nail to punch the talk button. â€Å"Madame Zanzibar, at your service,† she said. Her expression changed as she listened to whoever was on the other end. She grew brisk and annoyed. â€Å"No, Silas. It's called a†¦ yes, you can say it, a yeast infection. Yeast infection.† Yun Sun and I shared a glance of horror, although-I couldn't help it-I was also delighted. Not that Madame Z had a yeast infection. I mean, ick. But that she was discussing it with Silas, whoever he was, while all of us listened in. Now we were getting our money's worth. â€Å"Tell the pharmacist it's the second time this month,† Madame Z groused. â€Å"I need something stronger. What? For the itching, you idiot! Unless he wants to scratch it for me!† She twisted on her swivel chair, pumping one Juicy Coutured leg over the other. Will looked up at me, his brown eyes wide with alarm. â€Å"I will not be scratching it for her,† he stage-whispered. â€Å"I refuse!† I laughed, thinking it a good sign that he was showing off for me. The Madame Z experience hadn't gone as intended, but who knew? Maybe it would end up having the desired effect after all. Madame Z pointed at me with the lit end of her cigarette, and I ducked my chin contritely, like Sorry, sorry. To distract myself, I focused on the strange and varied clutter on her shelves. A book called Magic of the Ordinary and another titled What to Do When the Dead Speak-But You Don't Want to Listen. I nudged Will with my knee and pointed. He mimed choking the poor deceased bastard, and I snortled. Above the books I saw: a bottle of rat poison, an old-fashioned monocle, a jar of what looked like fingernail clippings, a stained Starbucks cup, and a rabbit's foot, claws attached. And on the shelf above that was†¦ oh, lovely. â€Å"Is that a skull?† I asked Will. Will whistled. â€Å"Holy cannoli.† â€Å"Okey-doke,† Yun Sun said, averting her eyes. â€Å"If there really is a skull, I don't want to know about it. Can we leave now?† I took her head in my hands and pointed her in the right direction. â€Å"Look. It still has hair!† Madame Z snapped her cell phone shut. â€Å"Fools, every one of them,† she said. Her pallor was gone; apparently talking to Silas had shaken her out of her funk. â€Å"Ahh! I see you found Fernando!† â€Å"Is that whose skull that is?† I asked. â€Å"Fernando's?† â€Å"Oh God,† Yun Sun moaned. â€Å"Wormed his way to the surface after a gully washer, out in Chapel Hill Cemetery,† Madame Z told us. â€Å"His coffin, that is. Crappy wooden thing, must'a been from the early nineteen hundreds. No one left to care for him, so I took pity on him and brought him here.† â€Å"You opened the coffin?† I said. â€Å"Yep.† She seemed proud. I wondered if she'd worn her Juicy Couture during the grave robbing. â€Å"That's gross that it still has hair,† I said. â€Å"He still has hair,† Madame Z said. â€Å"Show some respect.† â€Å"I didn't know dead bodies had hair, that's all.† â€Å"Skin, no,† Madame Z said. â€Å"Skin starts to rot right away, and believe me, you don't want to smell it when it goes. But hair? Sometimes it keeps growing for weeks after the deceased has made his crossing.† â€Å"Wowzers.† I reached down and tousled Will's honey-colored curls. â€Å"Hear that, Will? Sometimes the hair keeps growing.† â€Å"Amazing,† he said. â€Å"What about that?† Yun Sun asked, pointing to a clear Tupperware container in which something reddish and organlike floated in clear liquid. â€Å"Please tell me it didn't come from Fernando, too. Please.† Madame Z waved her hand, like Don't be ridiculous. â€Å"That's my uterus. Had the doc give it to me after my hysterectomy.† â€Å"Your uterus?† Yun Sun looked ill. â€Å"I'm going to let 'em toss it in the incinerator?† Madame Z said. â€Å"Fat chance!† â€Å"And that?† I pointed to a clump of dried-up something on the highest shelf. This show-and-tell was proving far more enjoyable than our actual readings. Madame Z followed my gaze. She opened her mouth, then closed it. â€Å"That's nothing,† she said firmly, although I noticed she had a hard time tearing her eyes from it. â€Å"Now. Are we done here?† â€Å"Come on.† I made praying hands. â€Å"Tell us what it is.† â€Å"You don't want to know,† she said. â€Å"I do,† I said. â€Å"I don't,† Yun Sun said. â€Å"Yes, she does,† I said. â€Å"And so does Will. Right, Will?† â€Å"It can't be worse than the uterus,† he said. Madame Z pressed her lips together. â€Å"Please?† I begged. She muttered something under her breath about idiot teenagers and how she refused to take the blame, whatever came of it. Then she stood up, pawing the top shelf. Her bosom didn't jiggle, but stayed firm and rigid beneath her top. She retrieved the clump and placed it in front of us. â€Å"Oh,† I breathed. â€Å"A corsage.† Brittle rosebuds, their edges brown and papery. Sprigs of graying baby's breath, so desiccated that puffs of fiber dusted the table. A limp red ribbon holding it all together. â€Å"A peasant woman in France put a spell on it,† Madame Z said in a tone that was hard to decipher. It was as if she were compelled to speak the words, even though she didn't want to. Or, no. More like she did want to but was struggling to resist. â€Å"She wanted to show that true love is guided by fate, and that anyone who tries to interfere does so at her own peril.† She moved to return the corsage.