Winners Lose in The Lottery by Shirley Jackson - 512 Words

Winners Lose Most people who fantasize about winning the lottery dream about quitting their jobs, traveling the world, and buying $100,000 cars. However, in â€Å"The Lottery† by Shirley Jackson, the villagers mentally prepare themselves to be stoned if they are unlucky enough to win and hope that they lose. Shirley Jackson uses many literary elements throughout â€Å"The Lottery†, such as allegories, symbolism, foreshadowing, the narrator’s tone, and her writing style, which are all used to covey a specific meaning. In the reader’s mind, the lottery is most likely seen as a good thing. Nothing about the lottery raises a red flag, much like the seemingly innocent, happy village. Nothing seems to be wrong with either†¦ at first. The lottery is actually an allegory/symbol for the village. While in the surface, both seem fine, after a while, it becomes apparent something is off (with the lottery and the village), what with the kids collecting rocks (fore shadowing) and the strange attitude all the adults have. Symbolism is seen often throughout â€Å"The Lottery†. One example of this is the characters names. Mr. Summer’s name symbolizes that, through the money he gets from his coal business, he has a lot of leisure time. Mr. Graves’ name clearly symbolizes and foreshadows the grave situation that is to come. The color black symbolizes death throughout the story. The black box and the black dot on a piece of paper lead to death. The box also symbolizes the tradition itself, and theShow MoreRelatedLiterary Elements in The Lottery, by Shirley Jackson1334 Words   |  6 Pagesshort story, â€Å"The Lottery,† by Shirley Jackson communicates this theme by showing how the villagers participate in a lottery every year. In life, there are people who follow tradition because the have to, or they are used to following without question. The author, Shirley Jackson was born on December 14, 1916 in San Francisco, Cal ifornia. In 1937, Shirley Jackson attended Syracuse University where she began to write short stories. She was famous for the short story, â€Å"The Lottery,† and her best sellerRead MoreEssay about The Rocking Horse vs Lottery996 Words   |  4 PagesProfessor ENGL 102-B54 LUO 3 February 2014 â€Å"The Lottery† vs. â€Å"The Rocking-Horse Winner† In â€Å"The Rocking-Horse Winner,† by D. H. Lawrence, and â€Å"The Lottery,† by Shirley Jackson, the two authors illustrate symbols and themes throughout their stories in which one common idea is present: perhaps winning is not always positive. â€Å"The Rocking-Horse Winner,† by D.H. Lawrence is a fictional story about a woman’s obsession for money and the lack of love and affection she shows to her family. HerRead MoreAnalysis Of The Book The Lottery 916 Words   |  4 Pages The Foreshadowing in â€Å"The Lottery† On a warm day in late June, villagers gather in the square to participate in a lottery run by Mr. Summers. The children arrive first and begin collecting stones until their parents call them to order. Mr. Summers calls each head of the household forward to a black wooden box, where each selects a slip of paper. Once the men have chosen, Mr. Summers allows everyone to open the paper and see who wins. Bill Hutchinson wins and his wife immediately starts protestingRead MoreCritical Analysis of The Lottery695 Words   |  3 Pagesâ€Å"The Lottery,† written by Shirley Jackson takes place on the twenty-seventh of June in a small town in the United States. The beginning of the story starts off talking about the local children gathering around and the town square where the lottery is held. At the square, the little boys begin to gather stones from small to large ones and pile them up. The next people to show up at the village square are the husbands as they are discussing daily lif e amongst each other, then finally, the wives beginRead MoreWinners Will Be Executed Short Story Analysis1085 Words   |  5 PagesWinning a lottery is a good thing, right? Someone buys a ticket, then scratches it off or waits to see if they hold the winning number in their hands. However, that is not the case in Shirley Jackson’s world of â€Å"The Lottery†. In her critically acclaimed short story, a small town gathers in the village square and draws a name out of a box, and the ‘winner’ of their lottery is brutally stoned to death. All of this is done in a calm and orderly fashion, as well as without question. The lottery is a yearlyRead MoreEnglish 102 Fiction Essay1129 Words   |  5 PagesMLA Outline THESIS: The themes of Shirley Jackson’s, â€Å"The Lottery† and D.H. Lawrence’s, â€Å"The Rocking-Horse Winner† demonstrate a very powerful and sinister aspect of fallen human nature. The characters in both of these stories are driven to what many would describe as insanity in the pursuit of a passion. Ultimately, these pursuits end in unimaginable tragedy and pain. I. The townspeople in â€Å"The Lottery† and the family members in â€Å"The Rocking-Horse Winner† are caught up in their passions. Read MoreThe Theme Of The Lottery By Shirley Jackson1159 Words   |  5 PagesWhen â€Å"The Lottery† begins, nothing seems unusual about this community, no hint of what is to come, or how heinous an act is about to occur. As they ready themselves for what seems to be a cheerful event, preparing as if to win something valuable, rather than to lose this lottery, eagerness and enthusiasm fill the air. The tradition, this community has been following, is overly duteous, more sheep like, illustrating the extent to which people will go to fit in, to be part of a crowd, to feel acceptedRead MoreAnalysis Of Shirley Jackson s The Lottery Essay878 Words   |  4 PagesMichael Espinoza English 1302-5003 Professor Johnson June 22, 2015 Research-Based Argument Essay Shirley Jackson’s â€Å"The Lottery† Born on December 14, 1916, in San Francisco, California, Shirley Jackson was an American author whose novels and short stories are still relevant today. Jackson grew up in California and moved East with her family when she was 17 years old. She began her college career at the University of Rochester, withdrew for one year to practice her writing skills at homeRead MoreThe Lottery Shirley Jackson Analysis1089 Words   |  5 Pages In Shirley Jackson’s â€Å"The Lottery,† the story conducts a â€Å"lottery† that involves the families of the town to go into a drawing. Once the drawing is done, the winner of the lottery is used as a sacrifice in the town and is pelted by stones thrown from the community, including children. Furthermore, the basis of â€Å"The Lottery† has to do with psychological problems and influence. Psychoanalysis is built upon Sigmund Freud’s theories of psychology, which asserts that the human mind is affected by theirRe ad MoreCompare Contrast Fiction Essay794 Words   |  4 PagesCompare Contrast: The Rocking-Horse Winner/The Lottery ENGL 102_B40: Literature and Composition Spring 2011 Michaela Gates L23562144 APA Gambling, whether for life or money, is risky and success is not guaranteed, even if you ‘win’. Two different tales both involving risk. 1. Gambling for something valuable - One for life and the other for money 2. Characters’ Personalities - Paul was hopeful and cared deeply for his

Pornography Does NOT Cause Violence Against Women

Introduction Pornography is a controversial subject all around the world. Part of its appeal is its taboo nature. It has been argued that pornography is harmful. Porn is an underground market that is more or less legal but is it harmful? An article written by Diana E.H. Russell in â€Å"Dangerous Relationships: Pornography, Misogyny, and Rape† argues that it is. Diana E.H. Russell is a sociology professor. She has researched the issue and argues that pornography is profoundly harmful. Professor Russell believes that it inclines men to want to rape women and that it encourages them to act out rape fantasies. However, Michael C. Seto disputes Professor Russells theory that pornography is harmful. Michael Setos article, written with†¦show more content†¦The rapists admitted that they did not see the woman as human until it was too late and some still dont see their crime. They were asked if they believed that women enjoyed being raped. Many would say that wom en cause their own rape because of what they wear or how they act, they believe that most men are innocent of rape. All of the evidence provided was pulled from male rapists or men that proved to be force oriented. Experiments should be done based on healthy, non-rapist individuals, including women. Women view pornography, women are capable of ill thoughts and violence, and women are capable of committing rape. It would seem that there was plenty of evidence provided by Ms. Russell but I do not think that it is adequate to substantiate her theory that pornography is harmful. â€Å"No† Article From the â€Å"No† aspect written by Michael Seto, Alexandra Maric, and Howard E. Barbaree, they argue that 1) there is enough evidence any where proving that pornography is the cause of rape or rape crimes. They do not feel that it proves that men objectify and dehumanize women or that violent pornography desensitizes men to rape, 2) Knowing the definition of pornography and understanding the different versions help to identify where the issue lies, and 3) there are causal models that link pornography and aggression. The debate on pornography being harmful is so big because sexual victimization being such a major social problem. There is not enoughShow MoreRelatedPorn and Censorship15240 Words   |  61 PagesPornography and Censorship Should the government be allowed to legitimately prohibit citizens from publishing or viewing pornography, or would this be an unjustified violation of basic freedoms? Traditionally, liberals defended the freedom of consenting adults to publish and consume pornography in private from moral and religious conservatives who wanted pornography banned for its obscenity, its corrupting impact on consumers and its corrosive effect on traditional family and religious values. ButRead MoreEssay about Gendered Media9688 Words   |  39 PagesMedia on Views of Gender Julia T. Wood Department of Communication, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill times more often than ones about women (â€Å"Study Reports Sex Bias,† 1989), media misrepresent actual proportions of men and women in the population. This constant distortion tempts us to believe that there really are more men than women and, further, that men are the cultural standard. THEMES IN MEDIA Of the many influences on how we view men and women, media are the most pervasive andRead Moreunethical advertising14492 Words   |  58 Pagesoverall rating of a TV show might be well over 10 rating points it might very well happens that the same show in the same moment of time is generating only 2.5 trps ( being the target women 25-45). This would mean that while the show has a large universe of viewers it is not necessarily reaching a large universe of women in the ages of 25 to 45 making it a less desirable location to place an ad for an advertiser looking for this particular demographic. IMPACT Billboard, New York City The impact ofRead MoreThe Censorship of Art Essay example14698 Words   |  59 Pageshave come under increasing attack from various sides representing the entire left and right political spectrum, purportedly for their explicit sexual and violent lyrical contents. 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The Hunters Moonsong Chapter Nine Free Essays

string(94) " and looked up to see a triumphant smile on Damon’s face as he reached to take her arm\." Where r u? Elena texted impatiently. Stefan was supposed to meet her at her dorm room more than twenty minutes ago. Surely his study group was over by now? She was starving. We will write a custom essay sample on The Hunters: Moonsong Chapter Nine or any similar topic only for you Order Now She paced around the room, occasional y glancing at the dark tree branches beyond the windows. It wasn’t like Stefan to be late. She checked her phone. It was too soon to try to reach him again. Outside, something dark moved, and she gasped. Then she shook her head. It was just the branches of the trees out there, waving in the breeze. She moved closer, trying to see past the reflections on the glass. Their room was on the third floor; there wouldn’t be anyone sitting that high up. At least not anyone human. Elena shuddered. â€Å"Elena,† said a cool, clear voice from outside. With a squeak that sounded like a frightened rabbit, Elena jerked backward, pressing one hand to her pounding heart. After a moment, she stepped up to the window and threw it open. â€Å"Damon,† she said. â€Å"You scared me to death. What are you doing out there?† There was a flash of white teeth in the shadows. A mocking tone rang through his answer. â€Å"Waiting for you to invite me into your room, of course.† â€Å"You don’t need an invitation,† Elena said. â€Å"You helped me move in.† â€Å"I know,† Damon said, smiling. â€Å"I’m being a gentleman.† Elena hesitated. She trusted Damon, of course she did, but this seemed so intimate. Damon outside in the dark, Elena alone in her bedroom, neither of her roommates around. He’d been in her room at home, but Aunt Judith and Robert had been just down the hal . She wondered if Stefan would mind her being alone here with Damon, but she shook off the thought. He trusted Elena, that was what mattered. â€Å"Elena,† Damon’s voice was soft but insistent. â€Å"Let me in before I fal .† Rol ing her eyes, she said, â€Å"You’d never fal . And if you did, you’d fly. But you can come in anyway.† With a soft whoosh, faster than her eye could fol ow, Damon was suddenly beside her. She had to step back a pace. Eyes and hair as dark as night, pale luminous skin, perfectly cut features. He even smel ed good. His lips looked so soft†¦. Elena caught herself leaning toward him, her own lips parting, and pul ed away. â€Å"Stop it,† she said. â€Å"I’m not doing anything,† Damon said innocently. When Elena arched a skeptical eyebrow at him, he shrugged and shot her a brief, bril iant smile. There, Elena thought. That’s why Stefan might mind Damon being here. â€Å"Oh, al right. I’m only teasing you.† He looked around the room and quirked an eyebrow of his own. â€Å"Why, Elena,† he said, â€Å"I’m almost disappointed. You and your friends are running so true to type here.† Elena fol owed his eyes. Bonnie’s side of the room was a mess, a tumble of stuffed animals, rejected outfits, and Dalcrest paraphernalia. In contrast, Meredith’s area was rigidly tidy, books lined up alphabetical y, a single silver pen on the desk next to her slim silver laptop, her bed neatly draped in a silk duvet in subtly patterned gray and white. Her dresser and closet were closed, but inside, Elena knew, Meredith’s clothes would be organized by type, color, and season. Damon was right: just by looking at their parts of the room, you could tel that Meredith was rational, sophisticated, careful y control ed, and private, while Bonnie was fluffy, fun-loving, and disorganized. What about Elena’s own things? What did they say about her? She looked over her part of the room with a critical eye. Framed art prints from her favorite exhibits, her silver brush and comb lined up on her dresser, deep-blue sheets that she knew set off her eyes and hair. Someone who held on to what she liked and didn’t change easily? Someone who was very aware of what suited her? She wasn’t sure. Damon smiled at her again, without the mocking edge this time. â€Å"Don’t give it a second’s thought, princess,† he said affectionately. â€Å"You’re more than your possessions.† â€Å"Thanks,† Elena said shortly. â€Å"So, did you just drop in my window to say hel o?† He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. They were standing very close together, and Elena backed away a little. â€Å"I thought maybe, now that you’re a col ege girl, we could go out tonight and have some fun.† â€Å"Fun?† Elena said, stil distracted by his mouth. â€Å"What kind of fun?† â€Å"Oh, you know,† he said, â€Å"just a little dinner, a few drinks. Friend stuff. Nothing too daring.† â€Å"Right,† Elena said firmly. â€Å"It sounds nice. But I can’t tonight. Stefan and I are going out to dinner.† â€Å"Of course,† Damon said. He gave her a firm little nod and what was so obviously supposed to be a supportive smile that she had to stifle a giggle. Supportive, friendly, and unassuming were not natural looks on Damon’s face. He was trying so very hard to be her friend even though they al knew there was more than that between them. Since he had died and come back, he had been trying to change his relationships with Stefan and with her, she knew, to be with them in a way he never had before. It couldn’t be easy on poor Damon, trying to be good. He was out of practice. Elena’s phone chimed. She read the text from Stefan: I’m sorry. The study group’s running late. I think it’ll be at least another hour. Meet later? â€Å"Problem?† Damon was watching her, the same innocent, friendly smile on his face, and affection for him washed over Elena. Damon was her friend. Why shouldn’t she go out with him? â€Å"Change of plans,† she said briskly. â€Å"We’l go out, but just for a little while. I need to be back here to meet Stefan in an hour.† She texted Stefan quickly to let him know she was going to grab some food and looked up to see a triumphant smile on Damon’s face as he reached to take her arm. You read "The Hunters: Moonsong Chapter Nine" in category "Essay examples" Bonnie walked across campus, practical y skipping in time to the happy tune in her head. A date with Zander, la la la la la. It was about time, too. She’d been eagerly anticipating seeing Zander again al week, and although they’d talked on the phone, she hadn’t laid eyes on him around campus at al , even though of course she’d been looking. At last she was about to see him. La la la la la. Lovely, gorgeous Zander. She had on jeans and a sort of silvery, draping top that at least made it look like she might have some cleavage. It was a good outfit, she thought, understated enough for just hanging out but also a little bit special. Just in case they decided to go out clubbing or something at the last minute. Zander hadn’t told her what he’d planned, just asked her to meet him outside the science building. La la la la la, she hummed. Bonnie’s footsteps slowed, and the tune in her head died off as she saw flickering lights il uminating a group of people up ahead. They were gathered in the courtyard in front of one of the dorms. Approaching, she realized it was a group of girls holding candles. The wavering light from the candles sent shadows across their serious faces. Propped against the wal of the dorm were three blown-up photos, two girls and a guy. Al across the grass in front of them were heaped flowers, letters, and teddy bears. Hesitant to break the silence, Bonnie touched the arm of one of the girls. â€Å"What’s going on?† she whispered. â€Å"It’s a candlelight vigil for the missing people,† the girl whispered back. Missing people? Bonnie scanned the faces in the photographs. Young, smiling, about her age. â€Å"Are they al students here?† she asked, horrified. â€Å"What happened to them?† â€Å"Nobody knows,† the girl said, her gaze serious. â€Å"They just vanished. You didn’t hear about this?† Bonnie’s stomach dropped. She knew that a girl was attacked – or something – on the quad the first night, but she hadn’t known about any disappearances. No wonder her gut instinct had warned her to be scared walking across campus the other day. She could have been in danger. â€Å"No,† she said slowly. â€Å"I didn’t hear anything.† She dropped her eyes and bowed her head, silent as she sent out a fervent hope that these three happy-looking people would be found, safe and sound. In the distance, a siren began to wail. â€Å"Something’s happened.† â€Å"Do you think someone was attacked?† A babble of frightened voices rose as the sirens got closer. A girl near Bonnie began to sob, a hurt, scared sound. â€Å"Al right, what’s the trouble here?† said a new, authoritative voice, and Bonnie looked up to see two campus police officers shouldering their way through the crowd. â€Å"We †¦ uh†¦Ã¢â‚¬  The girl who had spoken to Bonnie gestured at the photos and flowers against the wal . â€Å"We were having a vigil. For the missing people.† â€Å"What are those sirens for?† another girl asked, her voice rising. â€Å"Nothing to worry about,† said the officer, but his face softened as he looked at the sobbing girl. Bonnie realized with a slight shock that he wasn’t much older than she was. â€Å"Miss?† he said to the crying girl. â€Å"We’l help you get home.† His partner looked around at the crowd. â€Å"It’s time to break things up and head inside,† he said sternly. â€Å"Stick together and be careful.† â€Å"I thought you said there was nothing to worry about,† said another girl angrily. â€Å"What aren’t you tel ing us?† â€Å"There’s nothing you don’t know already,† the man said patiently. â€Å"People are missing. You can never be too careful.† If there’s nothing to worry about, why do we have to be careful? Bonnie wondered, but she bit back the words and hurried away down the path, toward the science building where Zander had suggested they meet. The idea of trying to have a vision, to see if she could learn anything about the missing people, nudged at Bonnie’s mind, but she pushed it away. She hated that. She hated the loss of control when she slid into one of her visions. It was unlikely to work, anyway. Her visions had always been about people she knew, about immediate problems facing them. She didn’t know any of the missing people. She bit her lip and walked faster. The excitement about her date had fizzled out, and she didn’t feel safe now. But at least if she got to Zander, she wouldn’t be alone. When she arrived at the science building, though, Zander wasn’t there. Bonnie hesitated and looked around nervously. This corner of campus seemed to be deserted. She tried the door of the science building, but it was locked. Wellof course it was – there weren’t any classes this late. Bonnie shook the handle of the front door in frustration. She reached into her bag, then groaned as she realized she’d left her phone back in her room. Suddenly, she felt very exposed. The campus police had said to stick together, not to wander around alone at night, but here she was, al by herself. A cool breeze ruffled her hair and she shivered. It was getting awful y dark. â€Å"Bonnie. Psst, Bonnie!† Zander’s voice. But where was he? Bonnie saw nothing but the dark quad, streetlights throwing little circles of light on the paths. Above her, leaves rustled in the wind. â€Å"Bonnie! Up here.† Looking up, she final y spotted Zander on the roof, peering down over the side at her, his pale hair almost glowing in the moonlight. â€Å"What’re you doing up there?† she cal ed to him, confused. â€Å"Come on up,† he invited, pointing to the fire-escape ladder on the side of the building. It was lowered to just a couple of feet above the ground. â€Å"Real y?† said Bonnie dubiously. She walked over to the fire escape. She could make it onto the ladder, she was pretty sure, but she was going to look clumsy and awkward scrambling up on it. And what if she got caught? She hadn’t actual y read the campus regulations thoroughly, but wouldn’t climbing the fire escape up to the roof of a closed building be against the rules? â€Å"Come on, Bonnie,† Zander cal ed. His feet clanging loudly against the iron steps, he ran down the fire escape, shimmied down the ladder, and leaped to the ground, landing catlike on his feet beside her. He went down on one knee and held his hands out together. â€Å"I’l boost you up so you’l be able to reach.† Bonnie swal owed, then stepped up onto Zander’s hands and stretched for the ladder. Once she swung her leg up onto the bottom rung, it was a piece of cake, although the slightly rusty metal was rough against her hands. She spared a moment to thank al the powers of the universe that she had decided to wear jeans rather than a skirt tonight. Zander trailed behind her up the fire escape from one landing to another until final y they arrived on the roof. â€Å"Are we al owed to be up here?† Bonnie asked nervously. â€Å"Well,† Zander said slowly, â€Å"probably not. But I come up here al the time, and no one’s ever told me not to.† He smiled that warm, wonderful smile at her and added, â€Å"This is one of my favorite places.† It was a nice view, Bonnie had to admit that. Below them, the campus stretched, leafy and green and mysterious. If anyone else had brought her up here, though, she would have complained about the rusty fire escape and the concrete roof, suggested that maybe a date should involve going somewhere. This was a date, wasn’t it? She froze momentarily in a panic, trying to recal exactly what Zander had said when he suggested meeting here. She didn’t remember the words themselves, but they definitely had a date-y feel to them: she wasn’t a kid anymore, she knew when she was being asked out. And Zander was so cute, it was worth making an effort. â€Å"It’s pretty up here,† she said lamely and then, looking around at the flat dirty concrete, â€Å"I mean being so high up.† â€Å"We’re closer to the stars,† Zander said, and took her hand. â€Å"Come on over here.† His hand was warm and strong, and Bonnie held on to it tightly. He was right, the stars were beautiful. It was cool to be able to see them more clearly, here above the trees. He led her over to the corner of the roof, where a ratty old army blanket was spread out with a pizza box and some cans of soda. â€Å"Al the comforts of home,† he said. Then, quietly, â€Å"I know this isn’t a very fancy date, Bonnie, but I wanted to share this with you. I thought you would appreciate what’s special about being up here.† â€Å"I absolutely do,† Bonnie said, flattered. A secret little cheer went up inside her: Hurray! Zander definitely knows we’re on a date! Pretty soon Bonnie found herself tucked up against Zander’s side, his arm around her shoulders, eating hot, greasily delicious pizza and looking at the stars. â€Å"I come up here alone a lot,† Zander told her. â€Å"One time last year I just lay here and watched a big fat ful moon get swal owed up by the earth’s shadow in an eclipse. It was nearly pitch black without the light of the ful moon, but I could stil see its dark red shape in the sky.† â€Å"The Vikings thought eclipses were caused by two wolves, one who wanted to eat the sun, and one who wanted to eat the moon,† Bonnie said idly. â€Å"I forget which one wanted to eat the moon, but whenever either a solar or a lunar eclipse happened, people were supposed to make a lot of noise to scare the wolf away.† Zander looked down at her. â€Å"That’s a random piece of information to know.† But he smiled as he said it. Bonnie wriggled with delight under the sheer force of his smile. â€Å"I’m interested in mythology,† she said. â€Å"Druid and Celtic, mostly, but myths and stories in general. The Druids were into the moon, too: they had a whole astrology based on the lunar calendar.† She sat up straighter, enjoying the admiring look on Zander’s face. â€Å"Like, right now, from late August to late September, we’re in the month of the Artist Moon. But in a couple of weeks, we’l be in the month of the Dying Moon.† â€Å"What does that mean?† Zander asked. He was very close to her, gazing straight into her eyes. â€Å"Well, it means it’s a time of endings,† Bonnie said. â€Å"It’s al about dying and sleep. The Druid year begins again after Hal oween.† â€Å"Hmm.† Zander was stil watching her intently. â€Å"How do you know so much, Bonnie McCul ough?† A little smile played around his mouth. â€Å"Um, my ancestors were Druids and Celtics,† Bonnie said, feeling stupid. â€Å"My grandmother told me we were descended from Druid priestesses, and that’s why I see things sometimes. My grandmother does, too.† â€Å"Interesting,† Zander said softly. His tone grew lighter. â€Å"So you see things, do you?† â€Å"I real y do,† Bonnie said, seriously, staring back at him. She hadn’t meant to tel him that. She didn’t want to weird him out, not on their first date, but she also didn’t want to lie to him. So blue. Zander’s eyes were as deep as the sea, and she was fal ing farther and farther into them. There was nothing above her, nothing below, she was ceaselessly, gently fal ing. With a wrench, Bonnie pul ed her eyes away from Zander’s. â€Å"Sorry,† she said, shaking her head. â€Å"That was weird. I think I almost fel asleep for a minute.† â€Å"Don’t worry about it,† Zander said, but his face looked stiff and strange. Then he flashed that warm, enchanting smile again and got to his feet. â€Å"Come on, I want to show you something.† Bonnie stood slowly. She felt a little strange stil , and she pressed her hand briefly against her forehead. â€Å"Over here,† Zander said, tugging her by the other hand. He led her to the corner of the roof and stepped up onto the narrow ledge running around it. â€Å"Zander,† Bonnie said, horrified. â€Å"Come down! You might fal !† â€Å"We won’t fal ,† Zander said, smiling down at her. â€Å"Climb on up.† â€Å"Are you crazy?† Bonnie said. She’d never liked heights much. She remembered crossing a high, high bridge once with Damon and Elena. They’d had to if they were going to save Stefan, but she never would have been able to do it, except Damon had used his Power and convinced her she was an acrobat, a tightrope walker to whom heights were nothing. When he’d released her from his Power, after they crossed the bridge, her retroactive fear had been nauseating. Stil , she’d made it across that bridge, hadn’t she? And she had promised herself she would be more confident, stronger, now that she was in col ege. She looked up at Zander, who was smiling at her, sweetly, eagerly, his hand extended. She took it and let him help her climb onto the ledge. â€Å"Oh,† she said, once she was up there. The ground swam dizzyingly far below her, and she yanked her eyes away from it. â€Å"Oh. No, this is not a good idea.† â€Å"Trust me,† Zander said, and took her other hand so that he was holding on to her securely. â€Å"I won’t let you fal .† Bonnie looked into his blue, blue eyes again and felt comforted. There was something so candid and straightforward in his gaze. â€Å"What should I do?† she asked, and was proud when her voice was steady. â€Å"Close your eyes,† Zander said, and when she’d done that, â€Å"and pick your right foot up off the ledge.† â€Å"What?† Bonnie asked, and almost opened her eyes again. â€Å"Trust me,† Zander said again, and this time there was a rich undercurrent of laughter in his voice. Hesitantly, Bonnie lifted her foot. Just then, the wind picked up, and Bonnie felt like it was about to scoop her off the ledge and throw her into the sky like a kite whose string had snapped. She tightened her grip on Zander’s hands. â€Å"It’s al right,† he said soothingly. â€Å"It’s amazing, Bonnie, I promise. Just let yourself be. Life isn’t worth living if you don’t take risks.† Inhaling deeply and then letting the breath out, Bonnie forced herself to relax. The wind was blowing her curls everywhere, whistling in her ears, tugging at her clothes and her raised leg. As she relaxed into it, she felt almost as if she was being lifted, gently, into the sky, the air al around supporting her. It was like flying. Bonnie realized she was laughing with sheer delight and opened her eyes, gazing straight into Zander’s. He was laughing, too, and holding on to her tightly, anchoring her to the earth as she almost flew. She had never been so conscious of the blood thrumming through her veins, of each nerve catching the sensations of the air around her. She had never felt so alive. How to cite The Hunters: Moonsong Chapter Nine, Essay examples