Chicago Jazz and the Great Migration Free Essay Example, 1250 words

These reasons include; The failure of crops in their regions of origin. The existence of too much discrimination in the south. The availability of job opportunities in Chicago factories and WWI demand for workers. The decent pay for work done. The jobs in Chicago paid good and reasonable money. The Chicago Defender ads in the north held out the optimism of a better life. In regard to the above reasons, about 75,000 immigrants came to north from the southern region of the Chicago as early as from 1916 to 1920s. Among the immigrants were the very creative persons in the south. Jazz artists came from New Orleans to perform music in Chicago, New York and Kansas. Blues artists arrived from the Delta. The NAACP warmly welcomed the writers and poets such as the sculptor Augusta savage, poet Langston Hughes, and writer Zola Neale Hurston. Together with poet Countee Cullen and among other black artists, they formed a cultural explosion termed Harlem Renaissance. The immigrants came to be par t of an already booming African American community on the southern side of Chicago. At that time, the entertainment and economic district was The Stroll; the existence of the prospect of work that attracted people to the Stroll. We will write a custom essay sample on Chicago Jazz and the Great Migration or any topic specifically for you Only $17.96 $11.86/pageorder now By working very hard, the community could afford the payment to have music entertainment that lured musicians in great numbers to Chicago. The availability of music pleasure amassed musicians in an unprecedented way. Most of these artists performed jazz music that people of Chicago loved so much (Rowley, Hazel. Richard Wright. 53). Before the Storyville was closed Chicago could boast of great musical talent and prominent venues such as the sheet music, at 2700 south state, that featured Pekin Theatre from 1904. In respect to the Chicago Defender, Erskine Tate performed violin recital for the first time in 1910, in Chicago. He was the leader of Vendome orchestra. In 1906, Wilbur Sweatman played an amazing clarinet in Chicago. Moreover, Jelly Roll Morton presided over a band at the Richelieu and Elite #2 Cafes and the DeLuxe in the course of 1914 and 1915. Also, many different New Orleans had already performed at the north before 1917. The famous band of Brown was the first band to come to the north in the 1915. By the time Sidney Bechet, King Oliver, Freddie Keppard and other prominent New Orleans musicians set a foot in north to rub musical shoulders in 1918 with local talent, the classic style of New Orleans artists had already started to transform an indifference to local tastes.

Adidas Essay - 2734 Words

How Adidas Aims to Get Its Cool Back - WSJ Page 1 of 10 This copy is for your personal, non-commercial use only. To order presentation-ready copies for distribution to your colleagues, clients or customers visit http://www.djreprints.com. http://www.wsj.com/articles/how-adidas-aims-to-get-its-cool-back-1427072066 EUROPEAN BUSINESS NEWS How Adidas Aims to Get Its Cool Back The German sports brand wants to end its long U.S. slump ByELLEN EMMERENTZE JERVELL andSARA GERMANO Updated March 22, 2015 9:21 p.m. ET Adidas AG notched a big win when it signed a deal in January to sponsor University of Miami sports. The school had been rival Nike Inc.’s turf for decades, a perfect place to show that Adidas’s new U.S. chief was breaking its long†¦show more content†¦Last year, Adidas fell to No. 3 in the U.S. behind Under Armour Inc. in retail sales of sports apparel and footwear, according to Sterne Agee and SportScanInfo. â€Å"When Herbert took over, America was a problem,† says Christophe Bezu, former head of Adidas Asia Pacific, who left in 2011 after almost 24 years with the company. â€Å"America has always been a problem, and despite serious efforts nobody has been able to fix it.† Mr. Hainer declines to be interviewed. In a financial presentation this month, he said Adidas â€Å"underperformed in North America and we are all disappointed.† A Run Through Adidas History in Photos  » Adidas’s race in today’s competitive sportswear market, with help from stars like Kanye West, harks back to Jesse Owens’s running shoes in the 1936 Berlin Olympics. 1of 8 Adidas was founded in 1949 by German athlete and shoemaker Adolf Dassler. ADIDAS Mr. Hainer wants to reboot in the U.S. with Mr. King, an Adidas-group veteran who took over North American operations last June. Mr. King, an American, says headquarters in Herzogenaurach, Germany, has given him more leeway than to predecessors to craft a U.S.-specific strategy. America is â€Å"a very different mind-set from Germany,† Mr. King says. â€Å"That’s really the epiphany.† http://www.wsj.com/articles/how-adidas-aims-to-get-its-cool-back-1427072066?cb=logge...Show MoreRelatedAdidas956 Words   |  4 Pagesadidas AG (German pronunciation: [ˈadiËÅ'das]) is a German multinational corporation that designs and manufactures sports clothing and accessories based in Herzogenaurach, Bavaria, Germany. Frequently mispronounced as (German pronunciation: [ ˈadIËÅ'dÉ ÃŒ ¯s]). It is the holding company for the Adidas Group, which consists of the Reebok sportswear company, TaylorMade-Adidas golf company (including Ashworth), Rockport, and 9.1% of FC Bayern Munich. Besides sports footwear, Adidas also produces other productsRead MoreAdidas : Adidas Current Official Logo1887 Words   |  8 Pages Introduction:- Adidas Group, a German multinational corporation that designs and manufactures sports shoes, clothing and accessories based in Herzogenaurach, Bavaria, Germany. Adidas was founded in 1948 by Adolf Dassler, following the split of Gebrà ¼der Dassler Schuhfabrik between him and his older brother Rudolf. It offers its products through three brands, including adidas, TaylorMade-adidas Golf, and Reebok. The company operates in Europe, the Americas and Asia. Adidas is the largest sportswearRead MoreAdidas : Brand Review : Adidas1461 Words   |  6 PagesINTRODUCTION Adidas is a sportswear manufacturing company started by Adolf Dassler. Adidas group has incorporated brands including Adidas, Reebok, TaylorMade-Adidas and Rockport. The wings of the company are widespread and have assimiliated other productions including handbags, shirts, spectacles, watches, balls, and sportswear. Adidas is being the largest company that sells footwear in the European market and have achieved a momentous market share at the global platform. Adidas has achieved phenomenalRead MoreAdidas2026 Words   |  9 PagesIntroduction Adidas is a company that manufactures shoes and sport apparel. The founder is Adolf Dassler who is German. The name created by combination of the name and surname Adi Dassler, who started producing shoes in 1920s with the help of his brother Rudolf Dassler. That make costumer, to recognize Adidas is three parallel stripes of the same color. Slogan: â€Å"IMPOSSIBLE IS NOTHING† 1. History 1949-2005 Due to the death of Adolf’s son (Horst Dassler), the Company was bought in 1990 by BernardRead MoreAdidas2393 Words   |  10 PagesPRODUCTS Running Adidas currently manufactures several running shoes, including the adiStar Control 5, the adiStar Ride (the replacement for the adiStar Cushion 6), the Supernova Sequence (the replacement for the Supernova Control 10), and the Supernova Cushion 7 (which will soon be replaced by the Supernova Glide), among others. In addition, their performance apparel is widely used by runners. Adidas also uses kangaroo leather to make their more expensive shoes. Association football One of theRead MoreScale of Adidas1886 Words   |  8 PagesAdidas: Strengths -Strong success in Europe -High-performance products -Recent selling of subsidiary â€Å"dog† Salomon -In many invents is the biggest sponsor -Strong management team. -Strong control over its own distribution channel. -In the soccer industry, it has a stronghold. -No bad reputation like child labour or environment pollution. -Diversity and variety in products offered. -Strong financial position with minimal long term debts -Innovative designs in footwear enabling consumersRead MoreThe Success of Adidas1056 Words   |  5 PagesTHE HUMBLE SUCCESS OF ADIDAS Nowadays, the value of sports has been increasing more and more. So, it is important to have a good quality brands for the sportsmen to wear and equipments to use. Adidas is one of the most famous companies for producing the most quality sport goods. â€Å"Many people believe that the name Adidas is an acronym that stands for all day I dream about sports. This idea has been popularly passed around for many years, but it is utterly false. While it may be used that wayRead MoreAdidas and Nike1270 Words   |  6 PagesADIDAS AND NIKE Nike and Adidas are two the largest sportswear companies of nowadays. They are the giants in the sportswear industry, which always introduce innovative products, in order to become the ultimate market leaders. Nike is an American multinational corporation, which produces footwear, clothes, equipment and other active sport items (Feifer 2014). The company was founded in 1964 by Phil Knight and Bill Bowerman. Nike uses specific method of advertising, which differentiates it fromRead MoreAdidas Paper: Adolf Adi Dassler Is The Founder of Adidas973 Words   |  4 PagesFor Adidas, the beginning was with shoes. â€Å"Shoes to play in, shoes to play better in, shoes to win in.† Shoes that, one day would go on to be worn by champions that would win trophies and medals, shoes that would break impossible records. Athletes of all kinds would wear them and create magic wearing them. Today, Adidas is one of the world’s leading brands, recognized and respected. In 1925, in a small German village, the world got its first taste of Adidas. It was there, in a village by the nameRead MoreAdidas Group1992 Words   |  8 Pageswith a reputable company. Having played soccer through college and two years after Adidas is a company I am very familiar with. Additionally, TaylorMade is part of the Adidas Group. I am an avid golfer who refuses to play anything but TaylorMade and have a fair amount of knowledge about their company and products. Additionally, I am considering employment with the Adidas Group after completing of my MBA. Adidas has a very interesting history. In 1925 Adolf â€Å"Adi† Dassler designed his first pair

Night Creature Hunter’s Moon Chapter 37 Free Essays

Edward’s gun was pressed to Damien’s head the next instant. â€Å"No!† I shouted, tugging at the ropes. â€Å"Edward, you promised me you’d take care of him. We will write a custom essay sample on Night Creature: Hunter’s Moon Chapter 37 or any similar topic only for you Order Now † Edward frowned, confused. â€Å"I am taking care of him.† â€Å"You know I didn’t mean for you to kill him.† â€Å"I do?† The room was suddenly pandemonium, everyone talking at once. In the midst of everything, Damien’s eyes met mine. I saw no one but him. He’d revealed himself for me. Knowing Edward, he would die for it. â€Å"Silence,† Elise snapped. Amazingly, everyone complied. â€Å"I don’t need the blood of a live werewolf in human form right now.† She lifted her hand out of the bag. Her fingers held a full syringe. â€Å"I already have it.† â€Å"Oops,† Damien murmured. â€Å"Yes.† Edward shoved the gun into Damien’s ear. â€Å"Oops.† â€Å"Take it outside,† Elise ordered. â€Å"No.† I struggled, again to no avail. â€Å"Don’t hurt him. He’s not what you think.† â€Å"Not the fanged and furry?† Jessie asked. â€Å"What exactly does werewolf mean, Leigh?† â€Å"He’s different.† â€Å"That is what they all say,† Edward murmured. â€Å"Why don’t you tell us what you’re talking about?† This was Will, a voice of reason always. Despite his Forrest Gump manner, he was starting to grow on me. â€Å"The brown wolf,† I blurted. â€Å"The one that was killing the others but not eating them.† â€Å"You?† Jessie asked Damien. He tried to nod, but it was a little hard with a gun in his ear. â€Å"Him,† I confirmed. â€Å"He’s been helping us.† â€Å"No, he’s been helping Hector.† Jessie drew her weapon. â€Å"He didn’t know about the legend.† Jessie rolled her eyes. â€Å"Are you that naive?† My body stiffened as if I’d been hit with a cattle prod. Every muscle, every joint, tightened in agony. My eyes bugged. I saw the moon, felt its sheen on my skin like a caress. Then it was gone, and I lay there panting, aching, bleeding, but there was no blood. â€Å"I’d like to inject this before the first change,† Elise said. â€Å"Upsetting her is only making that happen more quickly. Perhaps we could let him live until I’m done here?† â€Å"Fine, whatever.† Jessie put up her gun. â€Å"Edward?† Elise murmured. Edward’s gaze flicked toward her, then away. â€Å"I will not shoot him. Unless he makes me. But I will not put away my weapon.† He removed the gun from Damien’s ear – barely. With Edward, that was the best I could hope for. The fit, or whatever it had been, passed. I was covered with sweat. My skin seemed too small, the hair on my arms too big. My scalp tingled, as did the base of my spine. Hell, I was probably sprouting a tail. â€Å"Get on with it,† I ordered. Elise stuck me. Frowning, she depressed the syringe and shot every last drop into my vein. She pulled the needle out, pressed a cotton pad to the prick, lifted it, scowled. â€Å"No blood,† she murmured. â€Å"The wound healed already.† â€Å"Is that good or bad?† â€Å"I have no idea.† Oh, yeah, I was the guinea pig. I waited for†¦ something. What I got was nothing at all. Everyone stared at me. I stared back. We waited for what seemed like forever but was probably only an hour. â€Å"How do you feel, Leigh?† Elise asked for the fifth time. â€Å"Fine,† I repeated. â€Å"Any strange visions, odd pains?† â€Å"Not anymore.† â€Å"I’ll stay with her,† she said. â€Å"No,† Edward stated, gun still pointed at Damien. â€Å"If she hasn’t changed by morning, the serum works. There’s no reason for all of us to stay here. Don’t you have something to do?† Edward glanced at Damien. â€Å"Why, yes, I do.† â€Å"No!† I said. â€Å"If the serum works, we can use it on him.† Damien blinked. His eyes met mine; something flickered in the gray-green depths. I think it was hope. â€Å"She’s right,† Elise murmured. Edward scowled, but he lowered his gun. â€Å"Do not make me come after you. You will not like what happens then.† â€Å"I’m not leaving Leigh. Ever.† â€Å"If the serum does not work, I will kill you.† â€Å"If the serum doesn’t work, I’ll let you.† The world receded, but at least I didn’t smell the forest, hear the trees, feel the wind. I didn’t taste blood; I didn’t even want to. I had to sleep. But before I did, just in case I never woke up, I wanted one last kiss. â€Å"Damien,† I whispered. He knelt by the bed. His fingertips brushed my hand. I turned my face, and his mouth was there. How had he known what I wanted without my saying a word? The kiss was gentle, sweet, everything I could ask for in a final embrace. His tongue tasted of mint – fresh and clean, new. He nibbled my lower lip, rubbed his thumb along my cheekbone. â€Å"Reverse Sleeping Beauty complex,† Jessie muttered. â€Å"His kiss puts her to sleep.† I fell into the satin darkness with a smile on my face as his breath mingled with mine. There was a tunnel or maybe a cave. Dark, not a flicker of light to stay away from – or perhaps run to. But the darkness was peaceful. There was no one there but me. No Jimmy, no family, but the best part †¦ no Hector. I went down that tunnel gladly and fell off the edge of the world. The next instant, or so it seemed, I jerked awake. I was alone, and the gray light of dawn shivered on the horizon. I looked down. I was still me. No fangs, no fur. It was a good day. A soft footfall drew my attention to the door. Damien stood in the entryway, barefoot, tousled, his chin shadowed, skin pale. For an instant I wondered what had happened to the good doctor; then I realized I didn’t care. Damien was here. He was the only one I wanted to see right now. â€Å"Did you sleep?† I asked. â€Å"Of course not.† â€Å"Wanna come to bed?† His eyes widened. His mouth opened, then shut. He shrugged. â€Å"Untie me.† â€Å"Leigh – † he began. â€Å"Do it, Damien. I won’t bite.† I let a slow smile spread across my face. â€Å"Unless you want me to.† He crossed the room, stood over the bed, staring down at me. Suddenly I was embarrassed. Wanting him at a time like this – what was the matter with me? â€Å"You don’t have to untie me,† I muttered. â€Å"Maybe you shouldn’t.† â€Å"We can’t – â€Å" â€Å"We can. I think we’ve proved that quite a few times.† â€Å"But we’ve never†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He was having a helluva time articulating this morning. â€Å"Are you trying to say that we’ve never been together when I knew what you were and I knew that you knew what I was?† He gave a half-laugh. â€Å"Something like that.† â€Å"Why do you think I want us to be together now?† He lifted his eyes. There was that hope again. â€Å"Why?† he whispered. I’d awoken this morning a human being. No tail, no snout, no savage bloodlust. Maybe, one day, Damien would, too. And if he could, then we might have a future. All I had to do was kill the demon who wanted to mate with me beneath the full moon. My life – what can I say? – it wasn’t for sissies. â€Å"Why?† I repeated. â€Å"Because I love you.† I hadn’t planned to say that. What if I had to shoot him? But what if he died – what if I did – before I told him the truth? At least Jimmy had known how I felt and he’d died without discovering how I’d betrayed him. I pushed away the thought. I needed to let the past go and focus on the future. I’d been close to death and worse last night. Every day from now on was a gift. Dwelling on what I’d done, punishing myself with it, was getting me nowhere. I needed to live or get out of the game. With Damien in my life, I knew which one I would choose. He knelt by the bed. His clever fingers released the knots. My hands went around his neck and pulled him close. â€Å"Tell me again,† he demanded. â€Å"I love you.† Our lips met and I forgot everything but him. There was no one, nothing, else. No werewolves, no demons, no power eaters. Just Damien and me – until Edward walked in. I had my tongue down Damien’s throat; he had his hand up my shirt. A gasp from the doorway made us freeze. I glanced past Damien’s shoulder and met the shocked eyes of the man who’d saved, then given me back, my life. â€Å"You have lost your mind.† Damien yanked his hand out of my shirt and tried to pull away. I held on, kissed his cheek, smoothed his hair, then let him go. â€Å"Maybe.† Standing, I crossed the room and stopped right in front of Edward. â€Å"But it’s my mind.† â€Å"I see now why you didn’t want him dead.† He shook his head. â€Å"I thought better of you, Leigh.† I frowned. â€Å"What’s that supposed to mean?† â€Å"Werewolves are†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He seemed to struggle for the words. â€Å"Accomplished at the physical.† â€Å"Is that your way of saying they’re great in the sack?† He winced. â€Å"If you must. They are carnal creatures. Their senses are heightened. They have lived long enough to learn many things.† I glanced at Damien. He shrugged. What could he say? He knew how to make me scream. Let’s shoot him. â€Å"I should have warned you of their allure. But I thought after Hector you would understand.† â€Å"Leave Hector out of this. They’re nothing alike.† â€Å"No? Did they not both seduce you while in human form? Hector killed everyone you ever loved in order to have you. How do you know this animal will not do the same?† â€Å"Because he won’t.† The excuse sounded lame, even to my own ears. Edward actually laughed in my face. â€Å"If you needed a boyfriend, why not pick one with the same interests as you?† â€Å"I did. He’s been killing werewolves for months.† â€Å"So he says.† â€Å"So I’ve seen. Tell him, Damien. Tell him what you told me about the magic woman in Arkansas.† Edward stopped laughing. His faded blue eyes sharpened. â€Å"What is this?† Quickly Damien told him his story. I give Edward credit: he listened. He no longer laughed, so I pressed the advantage. â€Å"He was with you last night. Did he kill anyone?† The two of them exchanged glances. â€Å"What?† I demanded. Edward cleared his throat. â€Å"You’ve been asleep longer than one night.† â€Å"How long?† â€Å"The hunter’s moon is tonight,† Damien told me. I let that sink in. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to wait around to find out if my life was over or just begun. I scowled at Edward. â€Å"That just makes my point stronger. What true werewolf could hold back from killing this close to a full moon?† â€Å"That is true,† Edward murmured. â€Å"I’d hoped he would lose his patience so I could – † He broke off. â€Å"No wonder you were so agreeable. You thought he’d be unable to resist all that tender meat. Then you could kill him.† Edward shrugged, unrepentant. â€Å"But he didn’t.† â€Å"No, he did not.† Edward stared at Damien as if he were a bug under a microscope. â€Å"Maybe what has happened to him could be of help to Elise.† â€Å"Maybe. If you don’t shoot him.† â€Å"Fine. He lives. For now. But please refrain from sucking face around me. It makes me ill.† â€Å"Sucking face?† Damien asked. â€Å"He hears things on television.† I shrugged. â€Å"He’s still lost in the forties.† â€Å"Me, too.† It hit me then that Edward and Damien were compatriots. They would be of an age if Damien hadn’t become a werewolf. Still, I doubted they’d embrace and become best friends – even if Elise’s serum was a success. â€Å"When will Elise test the cure on Damien?† I asked. â€Å"When she returns from the lab with more.† I frowned. â€Å"She’s gone?† â€Å"As soon as she knew you were all right, she left for Montana to make more serum and†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He hesitated. â€Å"There are some other issues she must deal with at headquarters. She will return after the hunter’s moon.† Footsteps pounded outside. Jessie and Will spilled into the room. â€Å"We figured out how to get Hector,† Jessie said. Will’s glasses were crooked, his hair all mussed. It appeared that he and Jessie had been sucking face, too. â€Å"He doesn’t know about the serum.† The light dawned. â€Å"He thinks I’ll change. He’ll be coming after me.† â€Å"No, Leigh,† Damien said. â€Å"He’s dangerous.† My eyes met his. â€Å"He’ll be coming after you, too. You’re the sacrifice.† Our eyes met. We had to do this together if we wanted any kind of future. Damien took my hand. He’d be right next to me tonight. Suddenly I felt as if I could accomplish anything. I doubted the feeling would last. You’d think we’d have all sorts of preparations to make, but since we were basically going to let Hector get away with it, our business was to wait. Not my strong suit. â€Å"You cannot go out and about today, Leigh,† Edward warned. â€Å"Hector could be anywhere. He could be anyone.† â€Å"I thought we wanted him to snatch me.† â€Å"We do not want him to know you have been cured. What would you do if you had been bitten, then changed?† â€Å"Kill myself.† â€Å"Besides that?† Jessie asked. â€Å"How should I know?† Everyone glanced toward Damien, who shrugged. â€Å"You wouldn’t kill yourself, Leigh. Not once you’d changed. Then you’d be different. You’d no longer be like you; you’d be like him.† Swell. â€Å"What did you do? That first time?† â€Å"Went mad in the woods. Munched on Nazis. A few Allies, too. It was a werewolf buffet over there.† â€Å"The good old days,† Jessie muttered. I shot her a warning glare. Damien was trying to help us. She needed to let him. â€Å"He was in the war?† Edward glanced in my direction. Why he couldn’t just ask Damien the question I have no idea. Except he wasn’t used to conversing with werewolves – only killing them. â€Å"He was bitten after the invasion,† I explained. â€Å"He was a soldier.† â€Å"Bitten by one of Mengele’s wolves.† â€Å"Looks that way.† Edward sighed. He still felt guilty that he’d been unable to prevent the release of the monsters in the Black Forest. He’d dedicated his life to righting what he considered his greatest wrong. I returned my attention to Damien. â€Å"What did you do in the days after you’d shifted the first time?† â€Å"Slept. The physical changes take some getting used to.† â€Å"Sleeping sounds good.† Even though I’d slept most of the night, I was exhausted. â€Å"Then you will sleep,† Edward ordered. â€Å"The rest of us will watch.† â€Å"Like hell.† â€Å"I didn’t mean watch you sleep. I meant watch this place.† â€Å"You don’t think Hector will be watching us, too? Or one of his wolf boys?† â€Å"I know how to watch a residence, Leigh. I am not completely senile. Yet.† I had a thought – one I should have had before, but I’d been a little busy. â€Å"Did Cora have any fascinating ideas on how to kill Hector?† Jessie and Will shook their heads. â€Å"Nothing more than what she told us the first time.† â€Å"Terrific.† â€Å"I have an idea,† Will said. â€Å"I’m glad someone does.† â€Å"Often doing the opposite of a ritual will reverse the outcome.† â€Å"English, Slick.† He blinked and adjusted his glasses. â€Å"I thought that was.† â€Å"Do you have any idea what he was talking about?† Jessie asked. I shrugged. â€Å"If the ritual is†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Was he blushing? I kind of thought so. â€Å"The ritual is doing me under the hunter’s moon in front of all the other wolves.† â€Å"Right. So not doing you will keep him from becoming all-powerful.† â€Å"That works well for me. But how do we kill the son of a bitch?† â€Å"He became a Weendigo by killing, then eating the flesh of his enemy. Reverse it.† I thought about what he’d said. â€Å"His enemy kills, then eats him?† â€Å"Can’t hurt.† Yes, it could. Because Hector’s enemy was me. How to cite Night Creature: Hunter’s Moon Chapter 37, Essay examples

Night Creature Hunter’s Moon Chapter 37 Free Essays

Edward’s gun was pressed to Damien’s head the next instant. â€Å"No!† I shouted, tugging at the ropes. â€Å"Edward, you promised me you’d take care of him. We will write a custom essay sample on Night Creature: Hunter’s Moon Chapter 37 or any similar topic only for you Order Now † Edward frowned, confused. â€Å"I am taking care of him.† â€Å"You know I didn’t mean for you to kill him.† â€Å"I do?† The room was suddenly pandemonium, everyone talking at once. In the midst of everything, Damien’s eyes met mine. I saw no one but him. He’d revealed himself for me. Knowing Edward, he would die for it. â€Å"Silence,† Elise snapped. Amazingly, everyone complied. â€Å"I don’t need the blood of a live werewolf in human form right now.† She lifted her hand out of the bag. Her fingers held a full syringe. â€Å"I already have it.† â€Å"Oops,† Damien murmured. â€Å"Yes.† Edward shoved the gun into Damien’s ear. â€Å"Oops.† â€Å"Take it outside,† Elise ordered. â€Å"No.† I struggled, again to no avail. â€Å"Don’t hurt him. He’s not what you think.† â€Å"Not the fanged and furry?† Jessie asked. â€Å"What exactly does werewolf mean, Leigh?† â€Å"He’s different.† â€Å"That is what they all say,† Edward murmured. â€Å"Why don’t you tell us what you’re talking about?† This was Will, a voice of reason always. Despite his Forrest Gump manner, he was starting to grow on me. â€Å"The brown wolf,† I blurted. â€Å"The one that was killing the others but not eating them.† â€Å"You?† Jessie asked Damien. He tried to nod, but it was a little hard with a gun in his ear. â€Å"Him,† I confirmed. â€Å"He’s been helping us.† â€Å"No, he’s been helping Hector.† Jessie drew her weapon. â€Å"He didn’t know about the legend.† Jessie rolled her eyes. â€Å"Are you that naive?† My body stiffened as if I’d been hit with a cattle prod. Every muscle, every joint, tightened in agony. My eyes bugged. I saw the moon, felt its sheen on my skin like a caress. Then it was gone, and I lay there panting, aching, bleeding, but there was no blood. â€Å"I’d like to inject this before the first change,† Elise said. â€Å"Upsetting her is only making that happen more quickly. Perhaps we could let him live until I’m done here?† â€Å"Fine, whatever.† Jessie put up her gun. â€Å"Edward?† Elise murmured. Edward’s gaze flicked toward her, then away. â€Å"I will not shoot him. Unless he makes me. But I will not put away my weapon.† He removed the gun from Damien’s ear – barely. With Edward, that was the best I could hope for. The fit, or whatever it had been, passed. I was covered with sweat. My skin seemed too small, the hair on my arms too big. My scalp tingled, as did the base of my spine. Hell, I was probably sprouting a tail. â€Å"Get on with it,† I ordered. Elise stuck me. Frowning, she depressed the syringe and shot every last drop into my vein. She pulled the needle out, pressed a cotton pad to the prick, lifted it, scowled. â€Å"No blood,† she murmured. â€Å"The wound healed already.† â€Å"Is that good or bad?† â€Å"I have no idea.† Oh, yeah, I was the guinea pig. I waited for†¦ something. What I got was nothing at all. Everyone stared at me. I stared back. We waited for what seemed like forever but was probably only an hour. â€Å"How do you feel, Leigh?† Elise asked for the fifth time. â€Å"Fine,† I repeated. â€Å"Any strange visions, odd pains?† â€Å"Not anymore.† â€Å"I’ll stay with her,† she said. â€Å"No,† Edward stated, gun still pointed at Damien. â€Å"If she hasn’t changed by morning, the serum works. There’s no reason for all of us to stay here. Don’t you have something to do?† Edward glanced at Damien. â€Å"Why, yes, I do.† â€Å"No!† I said. â€Å"If the serum works, we can use it on him.† Damien blinked. His eyes met mine; something flickered in the gray-green depths. I think it was hope. â€Å"She’s right,† Elise murmured. Edward scowled, but he lowered his gun. â€Å"Do not make me come after you. You will not like what happens then.† â€Å"I’m not leaving Leigh. Ever.† â€Å"If the serum does not work, I will kill you.† â€Å"If the serum doesn’t work, I’ll let you.† The world receded, but at least I didn’t smell the forest, hear the trees, feel the wind. I didn’t taste blood; I didn’t even want to. I had to sleep. But before I did, just in case I never woke up, I wanted one last kiss. â€Å"Damien,† I whispered. He knelt by the bed. His fingertips brushed my hand. I turned my face, and his mouth was there. How had he known what I wanted without my saying a word? The kiss was gentle, sweet, everything I could ask for in a final embrace. His tongue tasted of mint – fresh and clean, new. He nibbled my lower lip, rubbed his thumb along my cheekbone. â€Å"Reverse Sleeping Beauty complex,† Jessie muttered. â€Å"His kiss puts her to sleep.† I fell into the satin darkness with a smile on my face as his breath mingled with mine. There was a tunnel or maybe a cave. Dark, not a flicker of light to stay away from – or perhaps run to. But the darkness was peaceful. There was no one there but me. No Jimmy, no family, but the best part †¦ no Hector. I went down that tunnel gladly and fell off the edge of the world. The next instant, or so it seemed, I jerked awake. I was alone, and the gray light of dawn shivered on the horizon. I looked down. I was still me. No fangs, no fur. It was a good day. A soft footfall drew my attention to the door. Damien stood in the entryway, barefoot, tousled, his chin shadowed, skin pale. For an instant I wondered what had happened to the good doctor; then I realized I didn’t care. Damien was here. He was the only one I wanted to see right now. â€Å"Did you sleep?† I asked. â€Å"Of course not.† â€Å"Wanna come to bed?† His eyes widened. His mouth opened, then shut. He shrugged. â€Å"Untie me.† â€Å"Leigh – † he began. â€Å"Do it, Damien. I won’t bite.† I let a slow smile spread across my face. â€Å"Unless you want me to.† He crossed the room, stood over the bed, staring down at me. Suddenly I was embarrassed. Wanting him at a time like this – what was the matter with me? â€Å"You don’t have to untie me,† I muttered. â€Å"Maybe you shouldn’t.† â€Å"We can’t – â€Å" â€Å"We can. I think we’ve proved that quite a few times.† â€Å"But we’ve never†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He was having a helluva time articulating this morning. â€Å"Are you trying to say that we’ve never been together when I knew what you were and I knew that you knew what I was?† He gave a half-laugh. â€Å"Something like that.† â€Å"Why do you think I want us to be together now?† He lifted his eyes. There was that hope again. â€Å"Why?† he whispered. I’d awoken this morning a human being. No tail, no snout, no savage bloodlust. Maybe, one day, Damien would, too. And if he could, then we might have a future. All I had to do was kill the demon who wanted to mate with me beneath the full moon. My life – what can I say? – it wasn’t for sissies. â€Å"Why?† I repeated. â€Å"Because I love you.† I hadn’t planned to say that. What if I had to shoot him? But what if he died – what if I did – before I told him the truth? At least Jimmy had known how I felt and he’d died without discovering how I’d betrayed him. I pushed away the thought. I needed to let the past go and focus on the future. I’d been close to death and worse last night. Every day from now on was a gift. Dwelling on what I’d done, punishing myself with it, was getting me nowhere. I needed to live or get out of the game. With Damien in my life, I knew which one I would choose. He knelt by the bed. His clever fingers released the knots. My hands went around his neck and pulled him close. â€Å"Tell me again,† he demanded. â€Å"I love you.† Our lips met and I forgot everything but him. There was no one, nothing, else. No werewolves, no demons, no power eaters. Just Damien and me – until Edward walked in. I had my tongue down Damien’s throat; he had his hand up my shirt. A gasp from the doorway made us freeze. I glanced past Damien’s shoulder and met the shocked eyes of the man who’d saved, then given me back, my life. â€Å"You have lost your mind.† Damien yanked his hand out of my shirt and tried to pull away. I held on, kissed his cheek, smoothed his hair, then let him go. â€Å"Maybe.† Standing, I crossed the room and stopped right in front of Edward. â€Å"But it’s my mind.† â€Å"I see now why you didn’t want him dead.† He shook his head. â€Å"I thought better of you, Leigh.† I frowned. â€Å"What’s that supposed to mean?† â€Å"Werewolves are†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He seemed to struggle for the words. â€Å"Accomplished at the physical.† â€Å"Is that your way of saying they’re great in the sack?† He winced. â€Å"If you must. They are carnal creatures. Their senses are heightened. They have lived long enough to learn many things.† I glanced at Damien. He shrugged. What could he say? He knew how to make me scream. Let’s shoot him. â€Å"I should have warned you of their allure. But I thought after Hector you would understand.† â€Å"Leave Hector out of this. They’re nothing alike.† â€Å"No? Did they not both seduce you while in human form? Hector killed everyone you ever loved in order to have you. How do you know this animal will not do the same?† â€Å"Because he won’t.† The excuse sounded lame, even to my own ears. Edward actually laughed in my face. â€Å"If you needed a boyfriend, why not pick one with the same interests as you?† â€Å"I did. He’s been killing werewolves for months.† â€Å"So he says.† â€Å"So I’ve seen. Tell him, Damien. Tell him what you told me about the magic woman in Arkansas.† Edward stopped laughing. His faded blue eyes sharpened. â€Å"What is this?† Quickly Damien told him his story. I give Edward credit: he listened. He no longer laughed, so I pressed the advantage. â€Å"He was with you last night. Did he kill anyone?† The two of them exchanged glances. â€Å"What?† I demanded. Edward cleared his throat. â€Å"You’ve been asleep longer than one night.† â€Å"How long?† â€Å"The hunter’s moon is tonight,† Damien told me. I let that sink in. Well, at least I wouldn’t have to wait around to find out if my life was over or just begun. I scowled at Edward. â€Å"That just makes my point stronger. What true werewolf could hold back from killing this close to a full moon?† â€Å"That is true,† Edward murmured. â€Å"I’d hoped he would lose his patience so I could – † He broke off. â€Å"No wonder you were so agreeable. You thought he’d be unable to resist all that tender meat. Then you could kill him.† Edward shrugged, unrepentant. â€Å"But he didn’t.† â€Å"No, he did not.† Edward stared at Damien as if he were a bug under a microscope. â€Å"Maybe what has happened to him could be of help to Elise.† â€Å"Maybe. If you don’t shoot him.† â€Å"Fine. He lives. For now. But please refrain from sucking face around me. It makes me ill.† â€Å"Sucking face?† Damien asked. â€Å"He hears things on television.† I shrugged. â€Å"He’s still lost in the forties.† â€Å"Me, too.† It hit me then that Edward and Damien were compatriots. They would be of an age if Damien hadn’t become a werewolf. Still, I doubted they’d embrace and become best friends – even if Elise’s serum was a success. â€Å"When will Elise test the cure on Damien?† I asked. â€Å"When she returns from the lab with more.† I frowned. â€Å"She’s gone?† â€Å"As soon as she knew you were all right, she left for Montana to make more serum and†¦Ã¢â‚¬  He hesitated. â€Å"There are some other issues she must deal with at headquarters. She will return after the hunter’s moon.† Footsteps pounded outside. Jessie and Will spilled into the room. â€Å"We figured out how to get Hector,† Jessie said. Will’s glasses were crooked, his hair all mussed. It appeared that he and Jessie had been sucking face, too. â€Å"He doesn’t know about the serum.† The light dawned. â€Å"He thinks I’ll change. He’ll be coming after me.† â€Å"No, Leigh,† Damien said. â€Å"He’s dangerous.† My eyes met his. â€Å"He’ll be coming after you, too. You’re the sacrifice.† Our eyes met. We had to do this together if we wanted any kind of future. Damien took my hand. He’d be right next to me tonight. Suddenly I felt as if I could accomplish anything. I doubted the feeling would last. You’d think we’d have all sorts of preparations to make, but since we were basically going to let Hector get away with it, our business was to wait. Not my strong suit. â€Å"You cannot go out and about today, Leigh,† Edward warned. â€Å"Hector could be anywhere. He could be anyone.† â€Å"I thought we wanted him to snatch me.† â€Å"We do not want him to know you have been cured. What would you do if you had been bitten, then changed?† â€Å"Kill myself.† â€Å"Besides that?† Jessie asked. â€Å"How should I know?† Everyone glanced toward Damien, who shrugged. â€Å"You wouldn’t kill yourself, Leigh. Not once you’d changed. Then you’d be different. You’d no longer be like you; you’d be like him.† Swell. â€Å"What did you do? That first time?† â€Å"Went mad in the woods. Munched on Nazis. A few Allies, too. It was a werewolf buffet over there.† â€Å"The good old days,† Jessie muttered. I shot her a warning glare. Damien was trying to help us. She needed to let him. â€Å"He was in the war?† Edward glanced in my direction. Why he couldn’t just ask Damien the question I have no idea. Except he wasn’t used to conversing with werewolves – only killing them. â€Å"He was bitten after the invasion,† I explained. â€Å"He was a soldier.† â€Å"Bitten by one of Mengele’s wolves.† â€Å"Looks that way.† Edward sighed. He still felt guilty that he’d been unable to prevent the release of the monsters in the Black Forest. He’d dedicated his life to righting what he considered his greatest wrong. I returned my attention to Damien. â€Å"What did you do in the days after you’d shifted the first time?† â€Å"Slept. The physical changes take some getting used to.† â€Å"Sleeping sounds good.† Even though I’d slept most of the night, I was exhausted. â€Å"Then you will sleep,† Edward ordered. â€Å"The rest of us will watch.† â€Å"Like hell.† â€Å"I didn’t mean watch you sleep. I meant watch this place.† â€Å"You don’t think Hector will be watching us, too? Or one of his wolf boys?† â€Å"I know how to watch a residence, Leigh. I am not completely senile. Yet.† I had a thought – one I should have had before, but I’d been a little busy. â€Å"Did Cora have any fascinating ideas on how to kill Hector?† Jessie and Will shook their heads. â€Å"Nothing more than what she told us the first time.† â€Å"Terrific.† â€Å"I have an idea,† Will said. â€Å"I’m glad someone does.† â€Å"Often doing the opposite of a ritual will reverse the outcome.† â€Å"English, Slick.† He blinked and adjusted his glasses. â€Å"I thought that was.† â€Å"Do you have any idea what he was talking about?† Jessie asked. I shrugged. â€Å"If the ritual is†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Was he blushing? I kind of thought so. â€Å"The ritual is doing me under the hunter’s moon in front of all the other wolves.† â€Å"Right. So not doing you will keep him from becoming all-powerful.† â€Å"That works well for me. But how do we kill the son of a bitch?† â€Å"He became a Weendigo by killing, then eating the flesh of his enemy. Reverse it.† I thought about what he’d said. â€Å"His enemy kills, then eats him?† â€Å"Can’t hurt.† Yes, it could. Because Hector’s enemy was me. How to cite Night Creature: Hunter’s Moon Chapter 37, Essay examples

La Cancion de mi Corazon Essay Example For Students

La Cancion de mi Corazon Essay Memories to me are songs that play over and over again in my head. My heart keeps the beat and notes fall from my breath. After awhile not even the physical self exists. My soul is squashed between bars and lines. Sometimes Im running, other times Im resting. I see images flash by in four-four time then three-four time then six-eight timethere is no pattern. Erratic sharps lift me up and make me smile only to become flat again and drop me back into confusion. Confusion is the endless melody that carries on in my blood. The music stops only when I think of him, my lost harmony, my CheMy father would hold me on his lap and tell me that the wind whispered of change. He said the sun was beginning to light the way to a new path for Cuba. Hed tell me the water was stirring in anticipation of underground action. These things bounced off me and rolled into unswept corners of my mind. When my father spoke to me each day I was too preoccupied chasing chickens (add more detail bit about chasing chickens). Now that I think back to those times I realise my father spoke more to reassure him self than me that the country would find its glory. We will write a custom essay on La Cancion de mi Corazon specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now My mother was less optimistic about the future improvement of Cuba. Perhaps this was due to the realities of our current standard of living. My mothers bitterness splashed down upon us as she complained of the lack of a morsel of meat in the house. She complained of our scrawny chickens and how my father sold their eggs. Many times as a child I would hear her say to my father How can I raise our children to be strong when you sell our eggs and bring home no meat? My father would sigh and in a tired voice would reply Tomorrow will be better. But it never seemed to be. I suppose though that no matter how destitute a childs life is ones imagination can serve as a comfort. I would stave off hunger by flipping through my recollections of life beyond the rural land of Mantanzas. The city of Havana, despite the crime and corruption, held me firmly fixed in fascination. The last time the city came into my sight my mother was buying a new dress. She seldom bought machine made, market quality clothes. On this occasion however, she was to attend a wedding. Id imagined how beautiful mama would look in her new dress. White lilies teased me from vendor stalls, begging me to buy them for mamas hair. I envisioned the delicate petals fastened firmly throughout her long locks, tucked slightly behind tight round curls. My reverie carried me so far away from the market place that I thought for sure Id never come back to it againbut I was wrong. A smooth, coffee-rich voice seeped into my ears, past my nose and then finally down my throat. My feet pulled me along through the crowd past pungent-smelling sweet meats, eye-catching rhinestones, silk fans and a multitude of coloured ballpoint pens. I landed in front of a stage. Well, in actuality it was a long, overturned rectangular vegetable crate. A bit of mud-dampened lettuce clung desperately to a black travel-worn boot in front of me. I bent down and in one even motion peeled off the bit and flicked it to the ground. When I raised my eyes I found them drawn like magnets to the mesmerising speaker. I saw an old man in those eyes even though the frame and features pieced together a striking young man. He smiled at me once before I felt fingers individually wrap themselves around my skinny arms, tearing me from comfort. What I did not realise that warm day in Havana was that I would see him again in many different ways. .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e , .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .postImageUrl , .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e , .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e:hover , .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e:visited , .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e:active { border:0!important; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e:active , .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .ud23db6799ecfb52313727cd09042734e:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: How High-Stakes Tests Are Hurting Our Children?s F EssayAt fifteen I found my voice. Not just the voice that would eventually come streaming out of radio speakers into kitchens and bedrooms but the voice that argued with my mother and rose to stimulate debate amongst my fellow students. The household name singer and the fired up student didnt emerge until I was 18 though. At 15, my rebellious spirit gave me quite a number of slaps to the face and pinches on my skin so tight that blood oozed out. My mother would follow these punishments by telling me Silvia, you keep this up and you will be a whore in Havana! My father would occasionally say to my mother Su hija es solo una nina which was his way of saying that he felt she was too hard on me. As my body began to change its dimensions with new curves and unfamiliar fluids, so new understandings flooded my mind. I suddenly realised how Batistas dictatorship ravaged the land of Cuba of its richness. My ancestors had once built up the city from successful sugar fields, but now Bastista tore it down with racism, unchecked police brutality, political corruption in the governments, and foreign control of key sectors of the Cuban economy. On cold nights when rain leaked through our roof my father would tell my brother Guillermo and I of easier, more prosperous times. As I listened to his pained voice, my fingers would run through the dirt that our floor was composed of. The rush of grains would slide over the various nerve endings in my hand. One night, for no reason in particular, my mind drifted back to the night I wrote my first song. I hadnt thought much about the song but it struck me as extremely crucial to my life on this ordinary cold night. The song spoke of all that I d esired for myself and for Cuba. It was the night of July 8th, 1955 I would later learn that this was the day Che Guevara met Fidel Castro. My songs would take me many places in life and I would meet many people. What matters most is that I sang because I understood. I understood that the winds of change that my father spoke of were young adults such as myself. We were not only embarking upon important movements in our lives, but for the life of Cuba herself.