Essay --

How many times have you seen a commercial on television, or read a magazine with an ad for a teeth-whitening product that promises whiter teeth with toothpaste that displays a person with brighter, white teeth as more confident and attractive with whiter teeth? I’ve seen them countless times and I’m aware they’re reaching out or advertising to their audience with less appealing teeth which whom would like to have their teeth whiter to gain attractiveness and most importantly wanting you to see that you too can achieve these very nice whiter teeth along with an amazing smile just like the actor in the commercial. When a product is pitched to me I believe it’s something good for me since, it caught my attention in the first place because, usually I see commercials that won’t appeal to me since there about getting life insurance, buying furniture for your house, skin care if you have dark spots or wrinkles, medication policy’s for Medicaid if your older than 65, which none apply to me since I’m a 18 years old and not considering a life insurance policy yet, I don’t have my own house at the time so I wouldn’t be buying furniture right now, and I don’t have skin issues yet either but, instead any of these will appeal to some else who needs them. So it’s really all about the audience its reaching out to since, I know what products are being pitched to me and which are not. It’s a difference when I buy the product or want it, to when I just watch a commercial and change the channel while knowing that the same product that I just changed the channel to might not appeal me but will to someone else who is a candidate for the product and will listen to the advertising and watch through it all. Advertising is known to be the business of i... ...e it’s mostly the factor of influence because subconsciously the consumer is shoved into a particular category automatically for instance, if a person bought a limited edition â€Å"loui Viton† purse which usually run in the thousands and up while known very well as a top end brand of purse, it would be suggested they like the â€Å"exclusivity† it gives off because, of the type the brand they chose and they probably like to be exclusive in other ways as well or not. In my opinion define is an extent, I think the extent is only when they apply it to themselves in the moment because, one day I can be wearing or using something high end luxurious and I might be looking cool, classy or excusive and the next I could be using or wearing the same type of product and different brand with less promises as the high end brand and be considered â€Å"uncool† or â€Å"affordable† by some people.

Blood Promise Chapter Twenty-Six

I think the profanities that came out of my mouth when I hit the ground would have been understandable in any language. It hurt. The bush was not particularly sharp or pointy, but it wasn't soft by any stretch of the imagination. It broke my fall somewhat, though it didn't save my ankle from twisting underneath me. â€Å"Shit!† I said through gritted teeth, climbing to my feet. Russia sure was making me swear a lot. I tested the weight on my ankle and felt a twinge of pain but nothing I couldn't stand on. A sprain, thank God. The ankle wasn't broken, and I'd had worse. Still, it was going to slow down my getaway. I limped away from the bush, trying to pick up the pace and ignore the pain. Stretching before me was that stupid hedge maze I'd thought was so cool the other night. The sky was cloudy, but I doubted moonlight would have made it easier to navigate. No way was I going to fight that leafy mess. I'd find where it ended and get out through there. Unfortunately, when I circled the house, I discovered an unhappy truth: The hedge was everywhere. It encircled the estate like some kind of medieval moat. The annoying part was, I doubted Galina had even had it installed for defense. She'd probably done it for the same reason she had crystal chandeliers and antique paintings in the hallways: It was cool. Well, there was nothing for it, then. I picked an opening to the maze at random and started winding my way through. I had no idea where to go, no strategies for getting out. Shadows lurked everywhere, and I often didn't see dead ends coming until I was right on top of them. The bushes were tall enough that once I was only a little way into the maze, I completely lost sight of the top of the house. If I'd had it as a navigation point, I might have been able to just move in a straight (or nearly straight) line away. Instead, I wasn't entirely sure if I was going backward or in circles or what. At one point, I was pretty sure I'd passed the same jasmine trellis three times. I tried to think of stories I'd read about people navigating mazes. What did they use? Bread crumbs? Thread? I didn't know, and as more time passed and my ankle grew sorer, I began to get discouraged. I'd killed a Strigoi in my weakened state but couldn't escape some bushes. Embarrassing, really. â€Å"Roza!† The voice carried distantly on the wind, and I stiffened. No. It couldn't be. Dimitri. He'd survived. â€Å"Roza, I know you're out there,† he called. â€Å"I can smell you.† I had a feeling he was bluffing. He wasn't close enough for me to feel sick, and with the cloying perfume of the flowers, I doubted he could scent me yet-even if I was sweating a lot. He was trying to bait me into giving up my location. With new resolve, I headed down the next twist in the bushes, praying for the exit. Okay, God, I thought. Get me out of this and I'll stop my half assed churchgoing ways. You got me past a pack of Strigoi tonight. I mean, trapping that one between the doors really shouldn't have worked, so clearly you're on board. Let me get out of here, and I'll†¦ I don't know. Donate Adrian's money to the poor. Get baptized. Join a convent. Well, no. Not that last one. Dimitri continued his taunting. â€Å"I won't kill you, not if you give yourself up. I owe you. You took out Galina for me, and now I'm in charge. Replacing her happened a little ahead of schedule, but that's not a problem. Of course, there aren't many people to control now that Nathan and the others are dead. But that can be fixed.† Unbelievable. He truly had survived those odds. I'd said it before and meant it: Alive or undead, the love of my life was a badass. There was no way he could have defeated those three†¦ and yet, well†¦ I'd seen him take on crazy odds before. And clearly his being here was proof of his capabilities. The path ahead of me split, and I randomly chose the right hand path. It spread off into the darkness, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Score. Despite his breezy commentary, I knew he was also moving through the maze, getting closer and closer. And unlike me, he knew the paths and how to get out of it. â€Å"I'm not upset about you attacking me, either. I would have done it in your place. It's just one more reason why we should be together.† My next turn took me into a dead end filled with climbing moonflowers. I kept my swearing to myself and backtracked. â€Å"You're still dangerous, though. If I find you, I'm probably going to have to kill you. I don't want to, but I'm starting to think there's no way we can both live in this world. Come to me by choice, and I'll awaken you. We'll control Galina's empire together.† I almost laughed. I couldn't have found him if I wanted to in this mess. If I'd had that kind of ability, I'd My stomach swirled a little. Oh no. He was getting closer. Did he know it yet? I didn't fully understand how the amount of nausea correlated to distance, but it didn't matter. He was too close, period. How close did he need to be to truly smell me? To hear me walking on the grass? Each second brought him closer to success. Once he had my trail, I was screwed. My heart started racing even more-if that was even possible at this point-and the adrenaline pumping through me numbed my ankle, even though it still slowed me down. Another dead end spun me around, and I tried to calm myself, knowing panic would make me sloppy. All the while, that nausea grew in increments. â€Å"Even if you get out, where will you go?† he called. â€Å"We're in the middle of nowhere.† His words were poison, seeping into my skin. If I focused on them, my fear would win, and I'd give up. I'd curl into a ball and let him come for me, and I had no reason to believe he'd let me live. My life could be over in the next few minutes. A turn to my left led to another wall of glossy green leaves. I sidestepped it quickly and headed in the opposite direction and saw-fields. Long, vast stretches of grass spread out ahead of me, giving way to trees scattered off in the distance. Against all odds, I'd made it out. Unfortunately, the nausea was strong now. This close, he had to know where I was. I peered around, realizing the truth of his words. We really were in the middle of nowhere. Where could I go? I had no idea where we were. There. To my left, I saw the faint purple glow on the horizon that I'd noticed the other night. I hadn't realized what it was then, but now I knew. Those were city lights, most likely Novosibirsk, if that was where Galina's gang did most of their deeds. Even if it wasn't Novosibirsk, it was civilization. There would be people there. Safety. I could get help. I took off at as fast a run as I could manage, feet pounding hard against the ground. Even the adrenaline couldn't block that much impact out, and pain crackled up through my leg with each step. The ankle held, though. I didn't fall or go to a true limp. My breath was hard and ragged, the rest of my muscles still weak from all I'd been through. Even with a goal, I knew that the city was miles away. And all the while, the nausea grew and grew. Dimitri was close. He had to be out of the maze now, but I couldn't risk looking back. I just kept running toward that purple glow on the horizon, even though it meant I was about to enter a cluster of trees. Maybe, maybe it would provide cover. You're a fool, some part of me whispered. There's nowhere you can hide from him. I reached the thin line of trees and slowed just a little, gasping for breath and pressing myself up against a sturdy trunk. I finally dared a look behind me but saw nothing. The house glowed in the distance, surrounded by the darkness of the hedge maze. My sick stomach hadn't grown worse, so it was possible I might have a lead on him. The maze had several exits; he hadn't known where I'd come out. My moment of respite over, I kept moving, keeping the soft glow of the city lights in sight through the branches. It was only a matter of time before Dimitri found me. My ankle wasn't going to let me do much more of this. Outrunning him was slowly becoming a fantasy. Leaves left over from last fall crunched as I moved, but I couldn't afford to step around them. I doubted I had to worry anymore about Dimitri sniffing me out. The noise would give me away. â€Å"Rose! I swear it's not too late.† Shoot. His voice was close. I looked around frantically. I couldn't see him, but if he was still calling for me, he likely couldn't see me yet either. The city haze was still my guiding star, but there were trees and darkness between me and it. Suddenly, an unexpected person came to mind. Tasha Ozera. She was Christian's aunt, a very formidable lady who was one of the forerunners of teaching Moroi to fight back against Strigoi. â€Å"We can retreat and retreat and let ourselves get backed into corners forever,† she'd said once. â€Å"Or we can go out and meet the enemy at the time and place we choose. Not them.† Okay, Tasha, I thought. Let's see if your advice gets me killed. I looked around and located a tree with branches I could reach. Shoving my stake back into my pocket, I grabbed hold of the lowest branch and swung myself up. My ankle complained the whole way, but aside from that, there were enough branches for me to get good hand- and footholds. I kept going until I found a thick, heavy limb that I thought would support my weight. I moved out onto it, staying near the trunk and carefully testing the limb's sturdiness. It held. I took the stake out of my pocket and waited. A minute or so later, I heard the faint stirring of leaves as Dimitri approached. He was much quieter than I had been. His tall, dark form came into view, a sinister shadow in the night. He moved very slowly, very carefully, eyes roving everywhere and the rest of his senses no doubt working as well. â€Å"Roza†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He spoke softly. â€Å"I know you're here. You have no chance of running. No chance of hiding.† His gaze was fixed low. He thought I was hiding behind a tree or crouched down. A few more steps. That was all I needed from him. Against the stake, my hand began to sweat, but I couldn't wipe it off. I was frozen, holding so still that I didn't even dare breathe. â€Å"Roza†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The voice caressed my skin, cold and deadly. Still scrutinizing his surroundings, Dimitri took one step forward. Then another. And then another. I think it occurred to him to look up the instant I jumped. My body slammed into his, knocking him to the ground back-first. He immediately tried to throw me off, just as I tried to drive the stake through his heart. Signs of fatigue and fighting were all over him. Defeating the other Strigoi had taken its toll, though I doubted I was in much better shape. We grappled, and once, I managed to rake the stake against his cheek. He snarled in pain but kept his chest well protected. Over it, I could see where I'd ripped his shirt the first time I'd staked him. The wound had already healed. â€Å"You. Are. Amazing,† he said, his words full of both pride and battle fury. I had no energy for a response. My only goal was his heart. I fought to stay on him, and at last, my stake pierced his chest-but he was too fast. He knocked my hand away before I could fully drive the stake through. In the process, he knocked me off of him. I flew several feet away, mercifully not hitting any trees. I scrambled to my feet, dazed, and saw him coming toward me. He was fast-but not as fast as he'd been in previous fights. We were going to kill ourselves in trying to kill each other. I'd lost my advantage now, so I ran off into the trees, knowing he'd be right behind me. I was certain he could outrun me, but if I could accrue just a tiny lead, then maybe I could secure another good attack place and try to â€Å"Ahhh!† My scream rang into the night, jarring against the quiet darkness. My foot had gone out from under me, and I was sliding rapidly down a steep hillside, unable to stop myself. There were few trees, but the rocks and my ungainly position made the fall painful, particularly since I was wearing that sweater dress. How I managed to keep holding the stake was beyond me. I hit the bottom roughly, managed to briefly stand, and then promptly stumbled and fell-into water. I stared around. On cue, the moon peeked out from the clouds, casting enough light to show me a huge expanse of black, fast-moving water in front of me. I gaped at it, utterly confused, and then I turned in the direction of the city. This was the Ob, the river that ran through Novosibirsk. The river headed right toward it. Glancing behind me, I saw Dimitri standing on top of the ridge. Unlike some of us, he'd apparently been watching where he was going. Either that, or my scream had tipped him off that something was amiss. It was going to take him less than a minute to come running down after me, though. I looked to either side of me and then in front. Okay. Fast-moving water. Possibly deep. Very wide. It'd take the pressure off my ankle, but I wasn't thrilled about my chances of not drowning. In legends, vampires couldn't cross running water. Man, I wished. That was pure myth. I did a double take to my left and just barely saw a dark shape over the water. A bridge? It was the best shot I had. I hesitated before going toward it; I needed Dimitri to start coming down here. I was not going to run off and let him pace me up above on the ridge. I needed the time his hill descent would buy me. There. He took one step onto the slope, and I tore off down the shore, not looking back. The bridge grew closer and closer to me, and as it did, I realized just how high it was. I'd misjudged it from where I'd landed. The slopes around the bridge reached farther up the more I ran downriver. I was going to have a hell of a climb. No problem. I'd worry about that later-by which I meant in about thirty seconds, since that was probably how long it'd take Dimitri to catch up with me. As it was, I could hear his feet splashing through the shallow water on the bank, the sounds growing nearer and nearer. If I could just reach the bridge, if I could just get to high ground and to the other side. The nausea surged in me. A hand closed around the back of my jacket, jerking me backward. I fell against Dimitri and immediately began fighting him, trying to free myself. But God, I was so, so tired. Every piece of me hurt, and no matter how weary he was, I was worse. â€Å"Stop it!† he yelled, gripping my arms. â€Å"Don't you get it? You can't win!† â€Å"Then kill me!† I wriggled, but his hold on my upper arms was too strong, and even holding the stake, I couldn't do anything with it. â€Å"You said you would if I didn't surrender myself. Well, guess what? I didn't. I won't. So just get it over with.† That phantom moonlight lit up his face, eradicating the normal shadows and making his skin stark white against the night's backdrop. It was like all the colors in the world had been blanked out. His eyes merely looked dark, but in my mind's eye, they glowed like fire. His expression was cold and calculating. Not my Dimitri. â€Å"It'd take a lot for me to kill you, Rose,† he said. â€Å"This isn't enough.† I wasn't convinced. Still holding onto me with that unbreakable grip, he leaned toward me. He was going to bite me. Those teeth would pierce my skin, and he'd turn me into a monster like him or drink until I was dead. Either way, I'd be too drugged and too stupid to know it. The person who was Rose Hathaway would leave this world without even realizing it. Pure panic shot through me-even as that part of me that was still in withdrawal cried out for more of those glorious endorphins. No, no. I couldn't allow that. Every nerve I had was set on fire, ramping up for defense, attack, anything†¦ anything to stop this. I would not be turned. I could not be turned. I wanted so badly to do something to save myself. My whole being was consumed with that urge. I could feel it ready to burst out, ready to. My hands could touch each other but not Dimitri. With a bit of maneuvering, I used the fingers of my left hand to pry off Oksana's ring. It slipped off and into the mud, just as Dimitri's fangs touched my skin. It was like a nuclear explosion going off. The ghosts and spirits I'd summoned on the road to Baia burst between us. They were all around, translucent and luminescent in shades of pale green, blue, yellow, and silver. I'd let loose all of my defenses, let myself succumb to my emotions in a way I hadn't been able to when Dimitri first caught me. The ring's healing power had barely kept me in check just now, but it was gone. I had no barriers on my power. Dimitri sprang back, wide-eyed. Like the Strigoi on the road, he waved his hands around, swatting the spirits as one would mosquitoes. His hands passed right through them, ineffectual. Their attack was more or less ineffectual too. They couldn't physically hurt him, but they could affect the mind, and they were damned distracting. What had Mark said? The dead hate the undead. And from the way these ghosts swarmed Dimitri, it was clear that they did. I stepped back, scanning the ground below me. There. The ring's silver gleamed up at me from a puddle. I reached down and grabbed it, then ran off and left Dimitri to his fate. He wasn't exactly screaming, but he was making some horrible noises. That tore at me, but I kept going, running toward the bridge. I reached it a minute or so later. It was as high as I'd feared, but it was sturdy and well built, if narrow. It was the kind of country bridge that only one car at a time could cross. â€Å"I've come this far,† I muttered, staring up at the bank. It was not only higher than the one I'd fallen down, it was also steeper. I pocketed the ring and stake and then reached out, digging my hands into the ground. I was going to have to half-crawl, half-climb this one. My ankle got a slight reprieve; this was all upper-body strength now. As I climbed, however, I began to notice something. Faint flashes in my periphery. An impression of faces and skulls. And a throbbing pain in the back of my head. Oh no. This had happened before too. In this panicked state, I couldn't maintain the defenses I usually did to keep the dead away from myself. They were now approaching me, more curious than belligerent. But as their numbers grew, it all became as disorienting as what Dimitri was now experiencing. They couldn't hurt me, but they were freaking me out, and the telltale headache that came with them was starting to make me dizzy. Glancing back toward him, I saw something amazing. Dimitri was still coming. He really was a god, a god who brought death closer with each footstep. The ghosts still swarmed him like a cloud, yet he was managing progress, one agonizing step at a time. Turning back, I continued my climb, ignoring my own glowing companions as best I could. At long last, I reached the top of the bank and stumbled onto the bridge. I could barely stand, my muscles were so weak. I made it a few more steps and then collapsed to my hands and knees. More and more spirits were spinning around, and my head was on the verge of exploding. Dimitri still made his slow progress but was a ways from the bank yet. I tried to stand again, using the bridge's rails for support, and failed. The rough grating on the bridge scraped my bare legs. â€Å"Damn.† I knew what I had to do to save myself, though it could very well end up killing me, too. With trembling hands, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the ring. I shook so badly that I felt certain I'd drop it. Somehow, I held on and managed to slide it onto my finger. A small surge of warmth radiated from it into me, and I felt a tiny bit of control settle into my body. Unfortunately, the ghosts were still there. The traces of that fear, of dying or turning Strigoi, were still in me, but it had lessened now that I was out of immediate danger. Feeling less unstable, I sought for the barriers and control I usually kept up, desperate to slam them into place and drive my visitors away. â€Å"Go, go, go,† I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. The effort was like pushing on a mountain, an impossible obstacle that no one could have the strength for. This was what Mark had warned about, why I shouldn't do this. The dead were a powerful asset, but once called, they were difficult to get rid of. What had he said? Those who danced on the edge of darkness and insanity shouldn't risk this. â€Å"Go!† I shouted, throwing my last bit of strength into the effort. One by one, the phantoms around me vanished. I felt my world settle back into its rightful order. Only, when I looked down, I saw that the ghosts had left Dimitri too-as I'd suspected. And just like that, he was on the move again. â€Å"Damn.† My word of the night. I managed to get on my feet this time as he sprinted up the slope. Again, he was slower than usual-but still more than fast enough. I began backing up, never taking my eyes off of him. Getting rid of the ghosts had given me more strength, but not what I needed to get away. Dimitri had won. â€Å"Another shadow-kissed effect?† he asked, stepping onto the bridge. â€Å"Yeah.† I swallowed. â€Å"Turns out ghosts don't much like Strigoi.† â€Å"You didn't seem to like them much either.† I took another slow step backward. Where could I go? As soon as I turned around to run, he'd be on me. â€Å"So, did I go far enough for you to not want to turn me?† I asked as cheerfully as I could manage. He gave me a wry, twisted smile. â€Å"No. Your shadow-kissed abilities have their uses†¦ Too bad they'll go away when you're awakened.† So. That was still his plan. In spite of how much I'd infuriated him, he still wanted to keep me around for eternity. â€Å"You're not going to awaken me,† I said. â€Å"Rose, there's no way you can-â€Å" â€Å"No.† I climbed up onto the railing of the bridge, swinging one leg over. I knew what had to happen now. He froze. â€Å"What are you doing?† â€Å"I told you. I'll die before I become Strigoi. I won't be like you or the others. I don't want that. You didn't want that, once upon a time.† My face felt cold as a night breeze blew over it, the result of stealthy tears on my cheeks. I swung my other leg over and peered down at the swiftly moving water. We were a lot more than two stories up. I'd hit the water hard, and even if I survived that fall, I didn't have the strength to out swim the current and get to shore. As I stared down, contemplating my death, I thought back to when Dimitri and I sat in the backseat of an SUV once, discussing this very topic. It was the first time we'd sat near each other, and every place our bodies touched had been warm and wonderful. He'd smelled good-that scent, that scent of being alive was gone now, I realized-and he'd been more relaxed than usual, ready to smile. We'd talked about what it meant to be alive and in full control of your soul-and what it meant to become one of the undead, to lose the love and light of life and all those you'd known. We'd looked at each other and agreed death was better than that fate. Looking at Dimitri now, I had to agree. â€Å"Rose, don't.† I heard true panic in his voice. If he lost me over the edge, I was gone. No Strigoi. No awakening. For me to be turned, he needed to kill me by drinking my blood and then feed blood back to me. If I jumped, the water would kill me, not bloodletting. I would be long dead before he found me in the river. â€Å"Please,† he begged. There was a plaintive note to his voice, one that startled me. It twisted my heart. It reminded me too much of the living Dimitri, the one who wasn't a monster. The one who'd cared for me and loved me, who'd believed in me and made love to me. This Dimitri, the one who was none of those things, took two careful steps forward, then stopped again. â€Å"We need to be together.† â€Å"Why?† I asked softly. The word was carried away on the wind, but he heard. â€Å"Because I want you.† I gave him a sad smile, wondering if we'd meet again in the land of the dead. â€Å"Wrong answer,† I told him. I let go. And he was right there, sprinting out to me with that insane Strigoi speed as I started to fall. He reached out and caught one of my arms, dragging me back onto the railing. Well, half-dragging. Only part of me made it over; the rest still hung out over the river. â€Å"Stop fighting me!† he said, trying to pull on the arm he held. He was in a precarious position himself, straddling the rail as he tried to lean over far enough to get me and actually hold onto me. â€Å"Let go of me!† I yelled back. But he was too strong and managed to haul most of me over the rail, enough so that I wasn't in total danger of falling again. See, here's the thing. In that moment before I let go, I really had been contemplating my death. I'd come to terms with it and accepted it. I also, however, had known Dimitri might do something exactly like this. He was just that fast and that good. That was why I was holding my stake in the hand that was dangling free. I looked him in the eye. â€Å"I will always love you.† Then I plunged the stake into his chest. It wasn't as precise a blow as I would have liked, not with the skilled way he was dodging. I struggled to get the stake in deep enough to his heart, unsure if I could do it from this angle. Then, his struggles stopped. His eyes stared at me, stunned, and his lips parted, almost into a smile, albeit a grisly and pained one. â€Å"That's what I was supposed to say†¦Ã¢â‚¬  he gasped out. Those were his last words. His failed attempt to dodge the stake had made him lose his balance on the edge. The stake's magic made the rest easy, stunning him and his reflexes. Dimitri fell. He nearly took me with him, and I just barely managed to break free of him and cling to the railing. He dropped down into the darkness-down, down into the blackness of the Ob. A moment later he disappeared from sight. I stared down after him, wondering if I would see him in the water if I squinted hard enough. But I didn't. The river was too dark and too far away. Clouds moved back over the moon, and darkness fell over everything again. For a moment, staring down and realizing what I'd just done, I wanted to throw myself in after him, because surely there was no way I could go on living now. You have to. My inner voice was much calmer and more confident than it should have been. The old Dimitri would want you to live. If you really loved him, then you have to go on. With a shaking breath, I climbed over the rail and stood back on the bridge, surprisingly grateful for its security. I didn't know how I would go on living, but I knew that I wanted to. I wasn't going to feel fully safe until I was on solid ground, and with my body falling apart, I began to cross the bridge one step at a time. When I was on the other side, I had a choice. Follow the river or the road? They veered off from each other slightly, but both headed roughly in the direction of the city's lights. I opted for the road. I didn't want to be anywhere near the river. I would not think about what had just happened. I couldn't think about it. My brain refused. Worry about staying alive first. Then worry about how you're going to live. The road, while clearly rural, was flat and packed and made for easy walking-for anyone else. A light rain began falling, which just added insult to injury. I kept wanting to sit and rest, to curl up in a ball and think of nothing else. No, no, no. The light. I had to go toward the light. That almost made me laugh out loud. It was funny, really. Like I was someone having a near-death experience. Then I did laugh. This whole night had been full of near-death experiences. This was the least of them. It was also the last, and as much as I longed for the city, it was too far away. I'm not sure how long I walked before I finally had to stop and sit. Just a minute, I decided. I'd rest for a minute and then keep moving. I had to keep moving. If by some crazy chance I'd missed his heart, Dimitri could be climbing out of the river at any moment. Or other surviving Strigoi could be coming after me from the manor. But I didn't get up in a minute. I think I may have slept, and I honestly don't know how long I'd been sitting there when headlights suddenly spurred me to alertness. A car slowed down and came to a stop. I managed to get to my feet, bracing myself. No Strigoi got out. Instead, an old human man did. He peered at me and said something in Russian. I shook my head and backed up a step. He leaned into the car and said something, and a moment later, an older woman joined him. She looked at me and her eyes widened, face compassionate. She said something gentle-sounding and held out her hand to me, cautious in the way one would be when approaching a feral animal. I stared at her for several heavy seconds and then pointed at the purple horizon. â€Å"Novosibirsk,† I said. She followed my gesture and nodded. â€Å"Novosibirsk.† She pointed to me and then to the car. â€Å"Novosibirsk.† I hesitated a little longer and then let her lead me into the backseat. She took off her coat and laid it over me, and I noticed then that I was soaked from the rain. I had to be a mess after everything I'd been through tonight. It was a wonder they'd even stopped. The old man began driving again, and it occurred to me I could have just gotten in a car with serial killers. But then, how would that be any different from the rest of my night? The mental and physical pain were starting to drag me under, and with my last effort, I wet my lips and choked out another gem from my Russian vocabulary. â€Å"Pazvaneet?† The woman looked back at me in surprise. I wasn't sure if I had the word right. I might have just asked for a pay phone instead of a cell phone-or maybe I'd asked for a giraffe-but hopefully the message came through regardless. A moment later, she reached into her purse and handed me a cell phone. Even in Siberia, everyone was wired. With shaking hands, I dialed the number I now had memorized. A female voice answered. â€Å"Allo.† â€Å"Sydney? This is Rose†¦Ã¢â‚¬ 

Canadas Shame Essay - 707 Words

The infamous Harp (whitecoat) and Hooded (blueback) seal hunt photos have virtually disappeared from newspapers or television news. That does not mean that seal hunting in Canada has stopped. The mass killing of seals off Canadaamp;#8217;s East Coast is commercial, cruel, and wasteful, yet despite furious outcry from Animal Rights activists the government is refusing to take notice. The cruelty of this extensive killing operation, which starts during the sealsamp;#8217; birthing season, has been denounced for years as amp;#8220;Canadaamp;#8217;s Shame.; nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;The senseless slaughter of seals springs from the profit they bring, the use of their pelts for coats, and other products. It has been proven though,†¦show more content†¦The big commercially owned boats on the other hand have an entirely different method of killing. Seal pups are gathered up individually and incased in netting amp;#8211; somewhat like a bag of oranges. Dozens of baby seals in net bags are packed into wire cages and moved by helicopters to fur farms. After the pups molt, they are killed. Catching seals in nets unavoidably causes a slow and painful death for these beautiful mammals. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Seals are mammals, warm blooded like the rest of us. There is nothing in place to protect them because under Canadian law, these mammals are legally considered to be fish! Perhaps that is why our government thinks so little about slaughtering these animals. Perhaps that is why the quotas have been set so high and why both the Government of Canada and the Government of Newfoundland are now providing subsidies to entice more fishermen and sport hunters to kill seals. The Government of Canada is gambling that the public has forgotten about the cruel and bloody images of the Canadian seal hunt prior to 1984. The truth is, nothing has changed amp;#8220;amp;#8230;about 220 000 seal pups were killed in 1997 alone.; And this statistic does not even take into account the thousands of mature seals being killed; itamp;#8217;s merely the estimated number of seal pups being massacred. nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;nbsp;Consequently the Canadian commercial sealShow MoreRelatedDiscuss the Idea of Carrying in OBriens The Things They Carried. What Is Carried and by Whom?1806 Words   |  8 Pagestypes of ‘carrying’ which O’Brien explores through these characters. Emotion burden came about from the memories and fear of shame, guilt and the loneliness at war. This the soldiers carried through out their lives. The men faced shame before the war when they were drafted. While many held the urge to go to Canada instead only some did. This is because of their fear of the shame from society of being called â€Å"Pussy† or â€Å"Turncoat† and went to war because they were â€Å"embarrassed not to†. O’Brien aims toRead MoreShame, By Tim O Brian924 Words   |  4 Pagesunderlying themes that the average reader might easily overlook. Shame is an overall human element that is seen all throughout; The Things They Carried, the Fifth Child, and Pocatello. Shame is the key to good literature, it is what drives the other emotions, and without shame people would not be people. The Things They Carried, was riddled with the idea of shame. One simple example is when Tim O’Brian was drafted and he wanted to run away to Canada to be safe from the U.S. military. This was an importantRead MoreLitarary Analysis on On a Rainy Day1127 Words   |  5 Pagesexplain the narration. In his depiction as a narrator, he expresses the emotional portrayal of the recitation with abysmal descriptions such as â€Å"embarrassment for all of us†, â€Å"feeling the shame†, and â€Å"trying to push it away†. Having mentioned his family’s unawareness of his thoughts on the topic highlights the shame he has endured. This is important in understanding the importance of the event because having not told his family, those an individual presumably trusts with inner thoughts, enhances theRead MoreThe Things They Carried Response1782 Words   |  8 Pagesloneliness. Many of the men faced vulnerability due to these emotions and some even face guilt for s omething that happened to another person. These guys went to war to get away from facing the shame that they would get if they didn t go to fight, which helps O’Brien portray the theme of motivation by shame. Still, there is a sense of relief and optimism in the characters based on the fact that they are alive. â€Å"...Jimmy rubbed his eyes and said he’d never forgive himself for Lavender s deathRead MoreThe Things They Carried by Tim O’brien1610 Words   |  7 PagesThe Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien Plot: 1. RISING ACTION †¢ In the summer of 1968, Tim O’Brien receives a draft notice. Despite a desire to follow his convictions and flee to Canada, he feels he would be embarrassed to refuse to fulfill his patriotic duty and so concedes to fight in Vietnam. CLIMAX †¢ During their tour of duty, the men of the Alpha Company must cope with the loss of their own men and the guilt that comes from killing and watching others die. FALLING ACTION †¢ After he returnsRead MoreA Different Point of View of the Vietnam War in Tim OBriens The Things They Carried1235 Words   |  5 Pageshad to go. This feeling came from his insecurities of what others might think of him if didnt go to war and part of it was due to him feeling ashamed for opposing something that society was in favor of. Tim’s plan before the war was to run away to Canada to avoid the war but he is afraid to disappoint his family and others. Tim believes that if he was to elope then â€Å" he would be a social pariah if he were to dodge the draft and the notion that people who have little idea of fighting a war for unjustRead MoreThe Four Theories Of Restorative Justice844 Words   |  4 Pages(Braithwaite, 2003, pg.48). The Theory of Unacknowledged Shame- holds that shame can be destructive and lead to increased levels of crime. From Braithwaite’s point of view, a process is needed to help offenders deal with the shame that can arise at any level when serious criminal offense has occurred. Restorative justice conferences is seen as a way to institute pride and divert any shame sequences. Studies shows that â€Å"when hurt is communicated, shame acknowledged by the person(s) who caused it, respectRead MoreDialectical Journal- The Things They Carried and Into the Wild4405 Words   |  18 Pagesbeing in a war is. He does not use stories of heroes, triumphs, and medals. O’Brien confesses to how men were embarrassed if they acted weak and did not fight in the war. It was proved in the chapter â€Å"On the Rainy River† when O’Brien ran away to Canada after he had been drafted that he felt this way. The only reason that he returned home only to go to war was because he was worried about people in his hometown thinking he was a coward. Also, later in the book, O’Brien ends up killing a man, whichRead MoreIndividualism And Collectivism : The Importance Of Being Independent And Self Reliant1647 Words   |  7 PagesGermany these immediate family circle is small whereas countries like India, Pakistan, and China these immediate family circle is bigger. So how can we say that a culture is individualistic or collectivistic? INDIVIDUALISTIC COUNTRY: USA Australia, Canada, Great Britain, Netherlands . COLLECTIVISTIC COUNTRY: India, Pakistan, Guatemala, Ecuador, Panama, Venezuela. TRAITS OF INDIVIDUALISM AND COLLECTIVISM: According to Hofsteede’s theory of cultural dimensions, in individualistic culture, individualRead MoreStand Against Seal Hunt and Pipelines in Canada843 Words   |  3 PagesCanadian embassy in Paris, France, to protest the annual seal hunt in Canada. The word â€Å"honte† on the Canadian flag means â€Å"shame.†Ã¢â‚¬  Inuit communities are exempted from seal product restrictions and are allowed to hunt up to 400,000 seals ( a quota set by the government) This is because it is part of their culture There’s growing demand for seal skin coats, boots, slippers and other products in the province and across Canada Fur is also still going to markets in China and other parts of Asia