This is not a question its a poem< 3 imagine yourself alone in your head. you’re hanging, dangling from a silver thread. empty, alone with the monsters within. internally screaming, you just want to give in. now imagine that’s you every day, every hour. forever sinking like a wilting flower. you try to tell your dad and you try to tell your mom, but they say you’re being silly, you’ve just got to move on. because teens don’t know sorrow nor the hardships of life. they’re just kids with imaginations just looking for attention, right? you think that there’s none who knows how you feel. you’re just so alone, but the feelings- they’re real. useless, neglected, forgotten, distressed. alone, afraid, but mostly depressed. and you’re friends, they go on like nothing has changed. “they must not care,” your thoughts whisper, the lies in your brain. you can’t escape it, trapped in your own skin. you’re ugly, you’re hated, but you mask it with a grin. you hate what you feel, so instead you feel nothing. your insides are numb, your confidence crumbling. you look to other things to stop the pain. but it gives you no gain. and the people around you can’t see past your fake smile no matter how you plead that you’re broken inside, they turn the other way, they run, they hide. they say you’re just foolish, it’s all in your head. what they don’t know is inside you’re already dead.

Read the passage from animal farm. as clover looked down the hillside her eyes filled with tears. if she could have spoken her thoughts, it would have been to say that this was not what they had aimed at when they had set themselves years ago to work for the overthrow of the human race. these scenes of terror and slaughter were not what they had looked forward to on that night when old major first stirred them to rebellion. if she herself had had any picture of the future, it had been of a society of animals set free from hunger and the whip, all equal, each working according to his capacity, the strong protecting the weak, as she had protected the lost brood of ducklings with her foreleg on the night of major's speech. instead—she did not know why—they had come to a time when no one dared speak his mind, when fierce, growling dogs roamed everywhere, and when you had to watch your comrades torn to pieces after confessing to shocking crimes. there was no thought of rebellion or disobedience in her mind. she knew that, even as things were, they were far better off than they had been in the days of jones, and that before all else it was needful to prevent the return of the human beings. whatever happened she would remain faithful, work hard, carry out the orders that were given to her, and accept the leadership of napoleon. but still, it was not for this that she and all the other animals had hoped and toiled. it was not for this that they had built the windmill and faced the bullets of jones's gun. such were her thoughts, though she lacked the words to express them. what was most likely orwell’s purpose for writing this passage? to show that clover is more sensitive to violence than the others to remind readers of major's speech and the original rebellion to present napoleon as a cruel leader unworthy of the animals’ support to represent misled followers and their dashed hopes for better lives

Used for an event that has been completed before the present moment in time. simple past past perfect perfect progressive past perfect progressive

Which characteristic is common to memoirs? a. they analyze all sides of a particular issue. b. they give the entire life story of an author. c. they may include fictional characters. d. they are written in first-person point of view.