[Solved]stories by Stephen King. Read all three, and then proceed to the assignment, where you wi
One thing you want to pay attention to as you write your personal narrative for essay three is how to begin the story.
Below are the opening paragraphs of three different stories by Stephen King. Read all three, and then proceed to the assignment, where you will write about which story you would most be interested in continuing to read and why. As you write your response, pull in specific examples from the story opening you’ve chosen to explain your decision.
This is due by 11:59pm on Sunday, February 19th. It is worth up to 100 points: 90-100 for a complete, well-developed response that includes evidence from the story; 80-89 for a complete response that is perhaps a bit under-developed, 70-79 for an under-developed post, and less than 70 for an incomplete or off-topic post.
“You can’t come,” his older brother said.
George spoke in a low voice, even though the rest of his friends—a neighborhood group of twelve- and thirteen-year-olds who styled themselves the Rip-Ass Raiders—were up at the end of the block, waiting for him. Not very patiently. “It’s too dangerous.”
Pete said, “I’m not afraid.” He spoke stoutly enough, although he was afraid, a little. George and his friends were headed up to the sandpit behind the bowling alley. There they’d play a game Normie Therriault had invented. Normie was the leader of the Rip-Ass Raiders, and the game was called Paratroops from Hell. There was a rutted track leading up to the edge of the gravel pit, and the game was to ride your bike along it at full speed, yelling “Raiders rule!” at the top of your lungs and bailing from the seat of your bike as you went over. The usual drop was ten feet or so, and the approved landing area was soft, but sooner or later someone would land on gravel instead of sand and probably break an arm or an ankle. Even Pete knew that (although he sort of understood why it added to the attraction). Then parents would find out and that would be the end of Paratroops from Hell. For now, however, the game—played without helmets, of course—continued.
They’ve been married for ten years and for a long time everything was okay—swell—but now they argue. Now they argue quite a lot. It’s really all the same argument. It has circularity. It is, Ray sometimes thinks, like a dog track. When they argue they’re like greyhounds chasing the mechanical rabbit. You go past the same scenery time after time, but you don’t see the landscape. You see the rabbit.
He thinks it might be different if they’d had kids, but she couldn’t have kids. They finally got tested, and that’s what the doctor said. It was her problem. Something in her. A year or so after that, he bought her a dog, a Jack Russell she named Bizznezz. Mary would spell it for people who asked. She wants everyone to get the joke. She loves that dog, but now they argue anyway.
Under the Weather
I’ve been having this bad dream for a week now, but it must be one of the lucid ones, because I’m always able to back out before it turns into a nightmare. Only this time it seems to have followed me, because Ellen and I aren’t alone. There’s something under the bed. I can hear it chewing.
You know how it is when you’re really scared? Sure you do. I mean, it’s pretty universal. Your heart seems to stop, your mouth dries up, your skin goes cold and goosebumps rise all over your body. Instead of meshing, the cogs in your head just spin. I almost scream, I really do. I think, It’s the thing I don’t want to look at. It’s the thing in the window seat.