Descriptive Essay About Fast Food - 825 Words

A lot of people eat fast food regularly. It has become a way of life for a lot of people, and I am no exception to this. I never really paid attention to the actual details of fast food, but recently I started to wonder who was the best fast food restaurant. To answer this, I compared the service quality, the price and the food quality from Chick-fil-A, McDonald’s and Burger King. I went to one establishment a day from Wednesday through Friday at around 12:10 pm, and I got enough food for the average family size of three to sample from. I found it extremely important to get food around noon because it’s the peak of lunch rush. Service Lunch rush is where the real service quality of a restaurant is going to shine. It really shows how well a†¦show more content†¦The staff was ok. Unlike the other restaurants it wasn’t very busy. The staff seemed more interested in goofing off than assisting me. The thing that really got me was the speed of this restaurant. Burger king took approximately 7 minutes. The same as Chick-fil-A. The problem is that a Burger King only serving three other people took as long as a completely full Chick-fil-A. The staff at Burger King was okay in terms of manners. They weren’t rude, but they could have been more focused. They are absolutely terrible with their time. The first-place winner in the service category is clearly Chick-fil-A. They are consistently nice and quick. Second-place goes to Burger King. It shouldn’t have taken that long, But the staff weren’t crabby like the people at McDonald’s. Good service is a must have for returning customer s, but it’s not entirely what draws people to a certain fast food place. Price The thing that draws most people to a particular fast food place is the bargain that they think they’re getting. Going to a restaurant to buy 15 individual items and 15 meals to compare prices is insane. So instead I found online charts that had the prices (not including tax) for Chick-fil-A, McDonald’s and Burger King to compare instead. The food I’m looking at are two fast food staples: The chicken nugget and the fry. The Chick-fil-12-piece nugget meal contains: 12 nuggets, a medium drink and a medium fry. This will run you about $8.59. The individual prices forShow MoreRelatedMy Favorite Food848 Words   |  4 Pages-Here are some guidelines for writing a descriptive essay: Take time to brainstorm If your instructor asks you to describe your favorite food, make sure that you jot down some ideas before you begin describing it. For instance, if you choose pizza, you might start by writing down a few words: sauce, cheese, crust, pepperoni, sausage, spices, hot, melted, etc. Once you have written down some words, you can begin by compiling descriptive lists for each one. Use clear and concise language. Read MoreObjectivity In Autophenonmenology And Heterophenomenology.938 Words   |  4 PagesHeterophenomenology In the journal â€Å"How to Study Human Consciousness Empirically,† Daniel Dennett claims that â€Å"people are often just wrong about what they are doing and how they are doing it.† Rather than having an objective and complete understanding of our own intentions and processes, we tend to use assumptions as knowledge, alter facts to align with our beliefs, and theorize about causes and effects. As a result, studies of traditional phenomenology (referred to in this situation as autophenomenology) areRead MoreAn Analysis Of Hans Taparia And Pamela Koch s New York Times Online Article1337 Words   |  6 PagesRhetorical Analysis Essay: â€Å"A Seismic Shift in How People Eat† In Hans Taparia and Pamela Koch’s New York Times online article â€Å"A Seismic Shift in How People Eat,† posted on November 6, 2015, the current struggle that big food companies are experiencing in relation to increased consumer awareness is discussed. Prompting this article is the overwhelming movement to healthy eating by the general populace and the havoc it is wreaking on corporate companies. Highly popular among health enthusiastsRead MoreCommunication Is Important For All Aspects Of Human Interaction1548 Words   |  7 Pagesbeen perfecting.) Communication is something that is necessary for all aspects of human interaction, however what happens when you are forced to use different means of communication to represent what you are trying to say? To be discussed in this essay is: CMC, verbal, and nonverbal communication and their relation to how we make decisions when we are exposed to new types of language. Consequently, one can observe how those decisions are based on a lack of language which directly affects communicationRead MoreServing in Florida Analysis Essay1742 Words   |  7 Pagespizza barf, decomposing lemon wedges, and water-logged toast crusts; sounds like the typical garbage can. Would anyone believe that these phrases apply to a run-down restaurant in the middle of Florida? Barbara Ehrenreich goes undercover at a local fast food diner known as Jerry’s to investigate life as a blue-collar laborer, serving to customers arriving in â€Å"human waves† (Ehrenreich 180). It is throughout her journey working for both Jerry’s and a factory known as Hearthside that she learns the difficultiesRead MoreThe Global North/South Divide1724 Words   |  7 PagesA descriptive essay on the Globla North/South divide. Explores the social, cuptural and economic differences that exist between the regions defined as the global north and the global south. The theory of the Global North and Global South is a new geopolitical perspective. It divides the world into two blocs – the industrialized countries of the global North and the poor countries of the South on the global level of analysis. While â€Å"Global South† is sometimes used as a synonym for the more familiarRead MoreShhh Essay2170 Words   |  9 Pages(2012) Summary: Is Popular Culture Good for You? Length: 1-2 pages (double-spaced with proper header, a descriptive title, and a Works Cited entry) Source: David Crystal’s â€Å"2B or not 2B† Due: End of class period, Wednesday, June 13th Percentage of Final Grade: 10% Objective: Write a summary of Crystal’s essay â€Å"2B or not 2B.† Use a template from They Say, I Say to begin your summary. Make appropriate rhetorical â€Å"moves,† such as integrating quotes, choosingRead MoreTen Most Effective Ways to Improve Your English1003 Words   |  5 Pages10 Most Effective Ways to Improve Your English 800-1000 words essay 1. Read : Read anything and everything in English. You can read story books, newspapers, magazines, blogs, comics, English textbooks, instructions and ingredients on food packages, advertisements, etc. For story books, don’t force yourself to read something too difficult or something you know you won’t enjoy. Make reading fun! Read books that you ENJOY reading. I hate to read books that bore me too. Opening up books beforeRead More Essay on Euthanasia and Doctor-Assisted Suicide1175 Words   |  5 Pagesmore popular points of interest involved with the euthanasia-assisted suicide discussion. There are less than a dozen questions which would come to mind in the case of the average individual who has a mild interest in this debate, and the following essay presents information which would satisfy that individuals curiosity on these points of common interest.    Euthanasia and assisted suicide are legal in the state of Oregon and in the country of the Netherlands; these are the only two jurisdictionsRead MoreAnalysis : Capital Dysphoria 2234 Words   |  9 Pagesbeyond given norms. ​We begin with Barbara Ehrenreich’s essay Serving in Florida, in which the author provides a diaristic account of a single month living off of minimum wages from two full time jobs. Coming from the background of a journalist visiting this lifestyle as a personal/journalistic experiment, Ehrenreich attempts to make sense of the toxic environment she becomes immersed in upon entering her new workplace at a local fast food chain: â€Å"The kitchen is a cavern, a stomach leading to the

12 Angry Men Movie - 1698 Words

12 Angry Men In a world where the jury is the voice of the peoples justice, twelve men sit in a room poised to determine the fate of one boys life. Did he do it? If he didnt, who did? Why would a young man kill his beloved father with a switchblade knife? The moment that the jury-comprised of twelve Caucasian men, abhorrent in todays society-entered the small, blank, bleak room, they had already come to the conclusion that the young man was guilty as charged without deliberation. One lone man stood his ground and had the guts to stand up to the others and profess that he believed the man could not be found guilty beyond a reasonable doubt due to conflicting information. How could he prove it? Through verbal and nonverbal†¦show more content†¦He became incredulous and demanded that the juror who made the statement to revise what he said and recognize that not all individuals from the slums are criminals. This is a prime example of profiling. Oral communication has played a huge factor in the deliberations in the jury room. Up to this point each juror has conveyed his belief through speech. â€Å"A verbal message can be conveyed and a response received in a minimal amount of time. If the receiver is unsure of the message, rapid feedback allows for early detection by the sender and, hence, allows for early correction† (Judge, 371) Some jurors were eloquent in the way they relayed their reasonings to the others, and some were very loud and abrupt and had little evidence to support their beliefs but relied purely on prejudices, biases, and ignorance in an effort to get a quick response. These jurors also used this opportunity to elicit any responses or feedback or make corrections to others’ reasonings. Many of the jurors relied on the oral messages that they received through the testimony of eyewitnesses in the courtroom. When they regurgitated the information in the jury room, however, some of the messa ges could have been, and probably were, distorted. This is why many people prefer to hear it â€Å"straight from the horse’s mouth.† Others used the testimony to prove the beliefs of others wrong or to find a reasonable doubt to vote not guilty. TheShow MoreRelated12 Angry Men In The Movie : 12 Angry Men808 Words   |  4 Pagesoften touchy subjects in a unique light. In this movie the audience is faced with 12 jurors who hold the fate of a young man on trial for murder in their hands. It is supposed to be that one is innocent until proven guilty; however that is not the case in this movie. The Jurors are very prejudiced and closed minded throughout most of the movie for the most part. However, the one juror who is not that way is number 8. In the 1957 MGM film 12 Angry Men Juror number 8 relies primarily on his core valuesRead More12 Angry Men : Movie Analysis : 12 Angry Men1103 Words   |  5 PagesThe 1957 movie version of 12 angry men, brings twelve people together with different personalities and experiences to discuss the fate of a young boy that allegedly killed his father. At the very beginning many agree that the boy is guilty except for one man. Juror #8 votes not guilty and pushes to have the evidence talked thr ough. Slowly after reviewing all the evidence carefully the eleven to one vote switched from eleven thinking guilty to eleven thinking not guilty. Each juror brought differentRead MoreThe Movie 12 Angry Men 865 Words   |  4 Pages As a Criminal Justice major, the classic movie 12 Angry Men has always been very influential and essential in my studies. This brilliant film is based on the concept of a fair trial to a young man, aged eighteen, who has been accused of stabbing his own father to death. Being tried for first-degree murder, the jurors vote most be unanimous on whether or not this child is to be sentence to death. Demanding the viewers to question the veracity behind our â€Å"fair† criminal justice system, this 1957 trialRead MoreMovie Paper (12 Angry Men)1493 Words   |  6 PagesCOMM 132 October 2, 2014 Movie Paper (12 Angry Men) In the Movie, 12 Angry Men, 12 jurors were tasked with finding a young man guilty or not-guilty of murdering his own father. In order for the men to fulfill their duty as jurors, they had to come to a consensus of whether the young man was guilty or not by working together, as a group, in order to analyze the trials evidence and testimonies, to then come to an agreement on the defendant’s guilt or innocence. As a group that was formed solelyRead MoreMovie Analysis : 12 Angry Men1639 Words   |  7 Pageswithin a diverse group.The purpose of this paper is to analyze the importance of cooperative communities while providing different aspects of leadership. Movie Summary The movie 12 Angry Men is a depiction of a jury deliberation in the 1950’s involving the trial of a teenager that is accused of murdering his father. These twelve men were brought together by a random selection process to make a unanimous decision. In the beginning, all jurors believed the boy to be guilty without a doubtRead MoreAnalysis Of The Movie 12 Angry Men 933 Words   |  4 Pages12 Angry Men Overview In the movie of 12 Angry Men, a group of jurors must decide the fate of an inner-city boy, who is charged with killing his father. The case should have been a slam dunk, yet one man (Juror No. 8) in the initial vote cast reasonable doubt over the evidence of the trial. While deliberating their verdict, the details are revealed. Subsequently, the jurors slowly changed their vote to innocent on the basis of doubt. Despite their duty to separate personal matters from the factsRead MoreAnalysis Of The Movie 12 Angry Men 946 Words   |  4 Pages12 Angry Men For the purpose of this paper I will be using a movie based on a teen male who is on trial for the murder of his father in 1957. There are twelve men on the jury who are from all different areas of society. They have one goal, to decide based on testimony and evidence on whether the accused is guilty or not. The following information is one person’s observation of the movie â€Å"12 Angry Men† using the 5 Stages of Group Development. Keywords: Forming, Storming, Norming, Performing, AdjourningRead MoreMovie Review 12 Angry Men607 Words   |  3 PagesAns 6. â€Å"Prejudice always complicated the truth.† The movie 12 Angry Men, by means of several situational examples, reaffirms the fact. The first case in point is of the boy on trial who is born and brought up in slums. Many of the jury members, especially jurors 10, 7, 4 and 3 are heavily influenced by the prejudices they hold against children from the slums. In one of the scenes, juror 10, goes into a rage and explains why people from the slums cannot be trusted and calls them little better thanRead MoreAnalysis Of The Movie 12 Angry Men 2223 Words   |  9 Pages12 Angry Men is a movie centered around a murder case and the 12 men that are in charge of providing a verdict for a kid charged of first degree murder of his own father. In this movie, the characters have to face a long and grueling procedure of figuring out how to charge the kid after a six day long trial and hours long deliberation between the jurors. The film of 12 Angry Men has several key psychological aspects to it that can be accurately and summarily described. In the movie, the jury hasRead MoreMovie Analysis : 12 Angry Men1404 Words   |  6 PagesThe group type presented in the film 12 Angry men appears to be a task group. Task groups typically come together to accomplish a specific charge. In this case, their task was to decide a verdict of guilty or not guilty for the boy on trial. According to our text, some feature of this task group would include those listed under the â€Å"teams† category such as appointed leadership and focus on a specific task or charge. The members’ bond is simply there interest in the task, as they have no previous

Blood Promise Chapter Twenty-Six Free Essays

string(90) " dead end spun me around, and I tried to calm myself, knowing panic would make me sloppy\." 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. We will write a custom essay sample on Blood Promise Chapter Twenty-Six or any similar topic only for you Order Now 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. You read "Blood Promise Chapter Twenty-Six" in category "Essay examples" 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‚¬  How to cite Blood Promise Chapter Twenty-Six, Essay examples

Burmese Pythons in the Everglades free essay sample

They followed their ears to a duel between an alligator and a huge Burmese Python. The alligator clamped his jaws around the snake. The snake wrapped its body around the alligator. The tourists wasted no time in whipping out their camera phones or video cameras, and within days the video was viral. Millions were enthralled by the odd match-up, but to scientists, it was a sign of what could be a very serious problem. The fight between an American alligator and a Burmese Python is unusual, and pretty intriguing, because the Burmese Python is not native to Florida. In fact, people barely noticed they were there until the early 1990s. The accidental introduction of an invasive species to an ecosystem can be absolutely devastating. They can wipe out other species, destroy habitats, and throw the whole system out of whack. We’ve seen it before. The introduction of the Brown treesnake to Guam, for example, caused major ecological and socioeconomic problems since its introduction to Guam shortly after World War II. The tree snakes clearly thrived in the environment of Guam over that of Australia; Specimens from Guam were significantly larger, Dobson 2 nd reproduced year round, as compared to those found living in Australia, which reproduce seasonally. As the snakes thrived in a new home, the island could not quite handle them as their native lands could. The brown treesnake caused a severe decline in native forest bird species, the loss of two lizard species, and declines in the Marianna fruit bat. It is now recognized as a public health threat, as well as a substantial drain on Guam’s economy. What has happened to Guam at the hand of a foreign, invasive species which should never have been introduced could easily happen to Florida too. If we allow the Burmese Python to take over and deplete the diverse everglades, there is no telling what could be the long term effect. Like the Brown Treesnake to Guam, the Burmese Python survives better in the Everglades than its own natural environment. In Southeast Asia, the pythons may be prey to jackals, monitor lizards, parasites, and diseases. â€Å"By the time they reach two years old, not much can eat them in the Everglades† says USGS biologist Kristen Hart, quoted by Michael Tennessen (6). These animals are large: up to 20 feet long, and 200 pounds heavy. They are sneaky: they’re often underground, in trees, underwater, or just blending into their surroundings with their brown and green-ish markings. They’re fast: â€Å"Relocated Pythons have demonstrated a homing ability, returning up to 48 miles from where they were captured. † (Tennessen, 5) Most native species of the Everglades don’t stand a chance against these monsters. Some experts estimate that there are tens of thousands of Burmese Pythons living free in Florida today. Some eighteen hundred specimens have been removed and recorded in and around the Everglades since 2005. Their numbers have risen dramatically. Two Burmese Dobson 3 Pythons were captured in the Everglades in 2000. In 2008, the number captured hit 343 (Tennesen, 3). Long ago, water from the Kissimmee River was free to flow to Lake Okeechobee and southward, over the lowlands of Biscayne Bay, the Ten Thousand Islands, and Florida Bay. It was a shallow layer of water moving slowly across nearly 11,000 square miles. It created the swamps, sloughs, ponds, marshes and forests which now make up the remaining wilderness of southern Florida. Many of those species are native, but many have been introduced to the environment, usually as stowaways on other imports, or pets that have been released. The Burmese Python is one of the most invasive of these non-native species. The snakes originate from Southeast Asia, so they thrive in Florida’s similar environment. The Everglades became sort of a paradise to the pythons, since their introduction in the early 1990’s. A female Burmese Python will lay up to 207 eggs at once. Inside her nest, she will coil her body around the eggs to maintain a temperature of about ninety degrees Fahrenheit. Incubation takes around two months. The python has only just recently been observed engaging in shivering thermo genesis for the first time outside of captivity. This is the production of body heat through muscle contractions. The mother snake does this to raise the temperature of her nest and eggs- the warmer the incubation, the quicker they will hatch, and slither free throughout the forest, carrying on its destructive path. With this sort of reproduction, it’s no wonder they’re so easily taking over the Everglades. Dobson 4 One of the first big releases of the Burmese Python in Florida took place in 1992. Hurricane Andrew, a category 5 hurricane, took down a large snake importer’s warehouse, as well as causing many billions of dollars of damage. Each year, Miami receives 12,000 exotic pet shipments, many of which are the Burmese Python. A person who takes in a 20-inch baby python might be understandably surprised when it becomes a 12-foot, 200 pound beast within a couple years, and many will end up releasing it into the wild. Most likely they are unaware that the reptile is about to wreak havoc on the ecosystem, gobbling native small to medium-sized species of all kinds, if they are unlucky enough to fall into its path. A Burmese Python will eat anything from birds and rodents to bobcats and deer- it will even swallow one of Florida’s iconic American Alligators like the one the tourists captured. Scientists who are worried about conservation of The Everglade’s native species have been recording numbers of medium-sized animal sightings and comparing them to numbers taken during 1996 and 1997. The recordings for most species were down by close to 99 percent! Obviously there are other factors that have surely had an effect on the animals, like climate change, pollution, hurricanes, and whatever else, but there is a pretty definite link between the time of introduction of the Bermuda Python to wild Florida, and the sharp decrease in sightings of native species. The solution for such an issue is a tricky debate. How do you get rid of such a large population entirely? It may not seem especially â€Å"eco-friendly† or humane to run around capturing and killing as many Burmese Pythons as we can get our hands on, but neither is Dobson 5 allowing these creatures that humans are responsible for bringing to Southern Florida, deplete the natural ecosystem and force native species into endangerment or extinction. So far nobody has thought up a good alternative, and permits to catch/kill Burmese Pythons found in and around the Everglades are now distributed. In 2003, the Task Force established an interagency team (FIATT) that will focus its efforts on non-native species. Their goal is to figure out how to assess and control the numbers of these threatening species (National Resource Council, 53). The largest subtropical wilderness here in the United States has also been designated as a World Heritage Site, an International Biosphere Reserve, and Wetland of International Importance. It is naturally home to a wide spectrum of species, some which cannot even be found anywhere else. Needless to say, the preservation of this landmark is hugely important. Besides the Pythons there are Nile Monitor Lizards, African Sacred Ibis, Old World Climbing Ferns, and god knows what else threatening a fragile ecosystem. There is no quick or easy way of stopping the Burmese Python from destroying the Everglades. We will have to work tirelessly and with dedication, because this problem will not take care of itself. One by one, each Burmese python will have to be captured and dealt with by relocation, or extermination. In all of my research, I found no alternative solution proposed, besides killing off most of the snakes. Maybe, more humanely, we could arrange some sort of python sanctuary in which Burmese Pythons are captured, sterilized, and cared for until their natural deaths.