Engelsk
Råd til engelsk stil
01. maj 2005 af
ninnacaroline (Slettet)
Bare lige om der er nogen der har lidt ideer til den sproglige del af stilen. (hvis I lider af søndagskedsomhed)
A New Father
It was one of those days where the sun is shining with no particular reason or so it seemes. It was a day in May, I had the sun in my eyes, my jacket around my wrist, my schoolbag on my bag and as I was walking home, a thrill of joy came over me. Like if you had just taking the biggest swig of a giant cup of hot chocolate, except this was kind of nice, and not destroying the cells on my tongue. For one minute I believed that my winter depression were gone and that all I could do now, was to enjoy the upcoming summer. The yearly vacation to France with my mom and smaller sister, just the three of us, hopefully. Sometimes one of her new men had been there with us. But like a ‘rule of thumb’, they break up and I get blamed for it. Even if I only had met them once, it would still be my fault. To be honest, there are not that many men. It just seemes like an awfull lot, when you really don’t want them or their kids around the house all the time.
Well as I was approaching my house, I started to get this feeling, you get when you have done something wrong, and you know that your mom are going to find out what you have done, within the next minute. I was standing in front of our house and looking at this unknown car. I had to acknowledge what I feared; that it did not belong to anyone I knew. So I did the wisest thing ever; I decided to run as fast as I could.
While I ran, I planned in my head how to survive in the big wild world for at least two days, so my mom would get the message: no spring fling this year! – “And I mean it!” I all of the sudden yelled. I stopped and realised that I was a long way from home and that it was getting dark. It was a luck for me that I was in a good shape at that time, otherwise I would only manish to run to the other end of our street, which would have been kind of embarrasing
I settled down for t the night in a shut down factory and fell a sleep immediately. The next day went by in the city, I new it was rather dim to walk around in the city when I was trying to hide. But still, it wouldn’t look suspicious if someone saw me looking at jeans in the supermarket. The wouldn’t think that I was ‘on the road alone’. And if I didn’t look at clothes, it would most definitely not be any fun to be temporary homeless.
As the dew fell for the night, I went back to the shut down factory. It looked, if possible, even more frightening than before. I started to fell like a member of the Foreign Legion. Like if I had crossed lines I should not have and that home was 1000 miles away. At this point I really missed home. But there was no way that I was going back to another stranger I had to accept!
The morning came and with it came hunger too. I hadn’t felt hunger on this trip before. As dumb as I was always told I was, I hadn’t thought about bringing either money or food. All the time in school all the kids told me all the time how stupid I was..- or am. And my mom don’t care when I tell her that I’m being bullied. ‘Just ignore them’ she always says in this ‘du you have to be so fragile’-tone. Well I’m sick and tired of being the fragile one and ignore all the ignorant idiots! I was red of anger, I truly hated it. I’ll give them back someday.
Back to my current problem. The day had to go by, so I decided to fall a sleep again. That way I wouldn’t feel the hunger nor the thirst. In the nights I always have nightmares. Either I imagined that I was killing someone, often my mom or one of the bullies, or that someone stalked me and then did the most horible things I could ever imagine. Cutted me with knives, burned me with cigarettes, raped me and hung me up like a pig and slaughtered me. I would wake up and scream and realise that I was just as alone in reality that in the dreams.
I woke up with a scream again. The dream had been there once more, but this time with a wealth of colors due to I hadn’t eaten anything. And there it was. A dead rat. My head spinned around and before I could react, I took a bite of it. It must had been there for a couple of days, but the awfull smeel didn’t bother me. I just ate the meat and drank it’s blood. I arranged it’s little bones on the floor. As I was doing this a shadow neared me. I was stiff of fear. I slowly looked up, and saw the silhuet of a huge man. It was as if he knew my whole history. A friend, I thought. But then he started to undress himself. With the dried up blood around my mouth and on my fingers, making everything even more stiff, I couldn’t move or scream. That was the first time I was raped. ‘It is just the rent’ he kept on whispering to me. Rent, I thought. That is one way to survive, I guess.
After that I fell a sleep again. I woke up the next morning with the worse stummich ache ever. I decided to go home. I wasn’t ready to experience any more pain. When I got home, the car and everything else around the house were gone and the doors were locked. One of the neighbours came over to me and explained that my mom had been murdered two days ago, and that the unfamiliar car belonged to a homicide expert from NYPD. I started to cry and scream, and the neighbour tried to calm me down. And that was when I decided to run away for good. The man in the shut down factory had shown me how to survive.
It is 8 years ago and I still believe in this, and live after it:
Give in. Don’t fight, it’s futile. You’re powerless and you’ll die eventually.
A New Father
It was one of those days where the sun is shining with no particular reason or so it seemes. It was a day in May, I had the sun in my eyes, my jacket around my wrist, my schoolbag on my bag and as I was walking home, a thrill of joy came over me. Like if you had just taking the biggest swig of a giant cup of hot chocolate, except this was kind of nice, and not destroying the cells on my tongue. For one minute I believed that my winter depression were gone and that all I could do now, was to enjoy the upcoming summer. The yearly vacation to France with my mom and smaller sister, just the three of us, hopefully. Sometimes one of her new men had been there with us. But like a ‘rule of thumb’, they break up and I get blamed for it. Even if I only had met them once, it would still be my fault. To be honest, there are not that many men. It just seemes like an awfull lot, when you really don’t want them or their kids around the house all the time.
Well as I was approaching my house, I started to get this feeling, you get when you have done something wrong, and you know that your mom are going to find out what you have done, within the next minute. I was standing in front of our house and looking at this unknown car. I had to acknowledge what I feared; that it did not belong to anyone I knew. So I did the wisest thing ever; I decided to run as fast as I could.
While I ran, I planned in my head how to survive in the big wild world for at least two days, so my mom would get the message: no spring fling this year! – “And I mean it!” I all of the sudden yelled. I stopped and realised that I was a long way from home and that it was getting dark. It was a luck for me that I was in a good shape at that time, otherwise I would only manish to run to the other end of our street, which would have been kind of embarrasing
I settled down for t the night in a shut down factory and fell a sleep immediately. The next day went by in the city, I new it was rather dim to walk around in the city when I was trying to hide. But still, it wouldn’t look suspicious if someone saw me looking at jeans in the supermarket. The wouldn’t think that I was ‘on the road alone’. And if I didn’t look at clothes, it would most definitely not be any fun to be temporary homeless.
As the dew fell for the night, I went back to the shut down factory. It looked, if possible, even more frightening than before. I started to fell like a member of the Foreign Legion. Like if I had crossed lines I should not have and that home was 1000 miles away. At this point I really missed home. But there was no way that I was going back to another stranger I had to accept!
The morning came and with it came hunger too. I hadn’t felt hunger on this trip before. As dumb as I was always told I was, I hadn’t thought about bringing either money or food. All the time in school all the kids told me all the time how stupid I was..- or am. And my mom don’t care when I tell her that I’m being bullied. ‘Just ignore them’ she always says in this ‘du you have to be so fragile’-tone. Well I’m sick and tired of being the fragile one and ignore all the ignorant idiots! I was red of anger, I truly hated it. I’ll give them back someday.
Back to my current problem. The day had to go by, so I decided to fall a sleep again. That way I wouldn’t feel the hunger nor the thirst. In the nights I always have nightmares. Either I imagined that I was killing someone, often my mom or one of the bullies, or that someone stalked me and then did the most horible things I could ever imagine. Cutted me with knives, burned me with cigarettes, raped me and hung me up like a pig and slaughtered me. I would wake up and scream and realise that I was just as alone in reality that in the dreams.
I woke up with a scream again. The dream had been there once more, but this time with a wealth of colors due to I hadn’t eaten anything. And there it was. A dead rat. My head spinned around and before I could react, I took a bite of it. It must had been there for a couple of days, but the awfull smeel didn’t bother me. I just ate the meat and drank it’s blood. I arranged it’s little bones on the floor. As I was doing this a shadow neared me. I was stiff of fear. I slowly looked up, and saw the silhuet of a huge man. It was as if he knew my whole history. A friend, I thought. But then he started to undress himself. With the dried up blood around my mouth and on my fingers, making everything even more stiff, I couldn’t move or scream. That was the first time I was raped. ‘It is just the rent’ he kept on whispering to me. Rent, I thought. That is one way to survive, I guess.
After that I fell a sleep again. I woke up the next morning with the worse stummich ache ever. I decided to go home. I wasn’t ready to experience any more pain. When I got home, the car and everything else around the house were gone and the doors were locked. One of the neighbours came over to me and explained that my mom had been murdered two days ago, and that the unfamiliar car belonged to a homicide expert from NYPD. I started to cry and scream, and the neighbour tried to calm me down. And that was when I decided to run away for good. The man in the shut down factory had shown me how to survive.
It is 8 years ago and I still believe in this, and live after it:
Give in. Don’t fight, it’s futile. You’re powerless and you’ll die eventually.
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