The Confessional

The image of my surroundings slowly fades away as I finally close my eyes and forever forsake my sight. The warm air pleasantly engulfs me and light is inevitably gone, troubling my weary eyelids no more. I can feel my skin, face, and muscles no longer as the bond between my brain and body is taken off the edge. Memories, doubts, inner conflicts- these struggle to leave my mind, emptying me… giving me eternal peace. It is not so easy for them, however, to depart as fast as I would wish, so in the last minutes of forsaken consciousness, somewhat unwillingly I recall everything that led to my curse… my damnation.
It seems like a second ago in my memory… yet I know it happened eternities ago. In my head, a black-and-white silent movie stars playing again and agonizingly reminds me of everything with striking clarity. The memory that had been suppressed is free to torture me again. Eileen and I are the main actors. We are characters in a movie - lifeless, animated, soulless, distant… I see myself sidelong.
From this spectator’s point of view, it is not hard to see how blissful and idyllic my life is… was. Eileen and I are walking out of the restaurant. Young, exultant, in love - that’s what we were. We are walking down the empty, starlit street, holding hands. I can literally sense the sweet storm that is raging inside my own heart. My character of yore does not know what will follow, but I do. Somehow, I am fixed into one point of view, as if some invisible camera man in my head is forcefully directing my sight. I try to defy the set perspective by looking upwards… unsuccessfully. Still, I recognize what is hovering up there, watching me… watching us both. Although I know perfectly well what will happen next as I have watched this movie thousands of times, I still have some absurd hope that this time there will be a different turn of events. In vain. Abruptly, I grab her and kiss her passionately in the middle of the street. The spectator hears the air being pulverized by the creature that is plummeting towards us. Everything happens with the speed of light. Her screams painfully pierce my ears as I am cast on the ground by the vampire. I try to scream, to get up, protect the woman I love… but I am helpless, bound and subjugated by some sinister spell. The monster’s image is blurred; all I can see is his demonic silhouette… Still, I can see how he sinks his teeth in Eileen’s exposed, snow-white neck. I can see as he carries her away in the star-studded sky and my scream follows him in the firmament where stars shine no more…
The human mind is merciless, cruel and definitely not self-protective. In fact, it tends to torture itself, to explore every dark corner of its infinity and to bask in self-abasement and suffering. However, sometimes the weight of reality is too heavy even for it to handle. Then the consciousness simply blocks and repels, denies everything that causes pain. Some call it madness… I don’t know. All I recall after Eileen being taken away are separate, illegible images of a filthy existence. My mind has been merciful, leaving only an insidious trace, allusion to untold and unspeakable misery and suffering.
The first clear memory I have after that night is of a stranger’s scarred face staring down at me with the grey morning sky behind him. He found me lying in a back street, beaten by some thugs, starved, weak, and overall near-death. His image is painfully clear: the startling half-burnt face with a great scar across the other, healthy cheek; the mingled and disheveled white hair; and above all, his anxious and examining, yet soothing and calming grey eyes.
The stranger’s name I found was Ailos, and he carried me away from that accursed street, half-dead. I lay a burden on his arms, yet his strength was so great he seemed to not notice my weight at all. Ailos murmured inaudibly, as if to himself: “We are going to my place, lad… hold on.” The “place” was a garret in one of those old city buildings that one thinks no life could possibly exist. Nevertheless, his apartment was definitely the lair of a living and dangerous man. Through the veil in front of my bleeding eyes I could discern strange and incredible machines and technology as well as various blades and swords hanging on the walls. The realization that my savior was some kind of hit man or headhunter proved too much for my weakened mind and body and I fainted, a feather on his arms.
For many weeks I was at the brink of death as I was shaken by fever and I had lost much blood. Ailos took care of me, bandaged my wounds, and mended my violently shattered bones. In the rare times that I was conscious, Ailos sat beside me and told me much about himself. At first my mind, accustomed to the world I had known before, refused to accept his tale; however, it was too obvious to refute. As I discovered, he was neither a hitman nor a headhunter… no. He was a vampire slayer.

One Passion, One Game

Usually, since their kids are little, parents want them to be involved in some kind of activity like football, tennis, art, dancing; something that will develop their physics, character, creativity. In my case it was exactly the opposite. I had one interest and that was volleyball unlike my all other friends boys who played football primarily. Unfortunately, my father also thought the same way and wasn’t very fond of me playing volleyball, so I listened to him and enrolled in a course for karate.
It wasn’t that long, when my “turn” came. In ninth grade I started to play volleyball as an outside activity in the college. Step by step I got really into all of the practices, our coach, the whole team, and the emotional intensity that all of the games brought to me. However, “the volleyball event” that changed me pretty much happened that year on the ACS Open. We seemed to have a very strong and united team. I played in the so called varsity team, whit the bigger boys. With all of the previous trains I got much attached and I felt really happy to play with them. On the tournament, as a team, we won game after game. We were playing with great passion and expectations to win even the first place. We got to the semi-final and after a tiring match we lost. During the game the tension exceeded all limits and it said its word-we started to fight between each other. We began to make stupid mistakes and blame each other for them. On the opposite, the other team was working as a well-greased machine and was making many successful attacks, which we could not resist. After the game, there were many tears and disappointment, but still we had to play the last match for the third place.
One hour went by and we had to face another school in a volleyball battle. We didn’t talk to each other much, we looked very disappointed and stressed, but still each one of us has kept last forces to play. The game was one of the most dramatic ones and I gave everything for the win. Slowly, we became the united team from the beginning of the tournament. We played 5 sets and with the rest of my forces I made the last two points. The joy was unforgettable, the happiness from the success also. The whole team managed to get up after it has felt. From the bottom, we managed to reach the victory again.
This tournament will stay a remarkable event in my life. Even know when I think of it tears fill up my eyes. I learned two greatly important lessons that stay for a lifetime.
They are people to which you really got used during a period of time. Each one of them is an individual with a unique character, but when it comes to work in group you should really try to fit with their personalities. As in this case, we were one team who should perfectly coincide with each other in order to win. And everything was perfect when we were united and played with a common will for victory. We supported each other, encouraged ourselves, helped to each other. The failure came when we separated and started to fight. The first lesson from that day was that if you want a group to work and success you should stop think about yourself and your personal issues. You should think about the people around you and try not to argue or create conflicts, or as the Old Bulgarian proverb says – “United Company can lift a mountain”.
Not on a second place was the fact that we actually fail to win ACS Open. We tried and we failed. But when we fell, we stood up on our feet one more time to take our last chance and win. When I thought about this moment later, I realized that the real failure is in stop trying to achieve what you really want. And if the volleyball match was only a game, we are actually given only one life and if we want to come out winners from it, we should give everything we can and all of our passion. People should not give up when they meet an obstacle; they should even become more determined to achieve their goal.
When people really love something, they would do anything to succeed in it. They would learn to play in a team; they would lose and then stand up to win again. But if you da really love the game, you would play it with passion and succeed

Excerpt from “Frankenstein”

"I sat one evening in my laboratory; the sun had set, and the moon was just rising from the sea; I had not sufficient light for my employment, and I remained idle, in a pause of consideration of whether I should leave my labour for the night or hasten its conclusion by an unremitting attention to it. As I sat, a train of reflection occurred to me which led me to consider the effects of what I was now doing. Three years before, I was engaged in the same manner and had created a fiend whose unparalleled barbarity had desolated my heart and filled it forever with the bitterest remorse. I was now about to form another being of whose dispositions I was alike ignorant; she might become ten thousand times more malignant than her mate and delight, for its own sake, in murder and wretchedness. He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man and hide himself in deserts, but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation. They might even hate each other; the creature who already lived loathed his own deformity, and might he not conceive a greater abhorrence for it when it came before his eyes in the female form? She also might turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man; she might quit him, and he be again alone, exasperated by the fresh provocation of being deserted by one of his own species. Even if they were to leave Europe and inhabit the deserts of the new world, yet one of the first results of those sympathies for which the daemon thirsted would be children, and a race of devils would be propagated upon the earth who might make the very existence of the species of man a condition precarious and full of terror. Had I right, for my own benefit, to inflict this curse upon everlasting generations? I had before been moved by the sophisms of the being I had created; I had been struck senseless by his fiendish threats; but now, for the first time, the wickedness of my promise burst upon me; I shuddered to think that future ages might curse me as their pest, whose selfishness had not hesitated to buy its own peace at the price, perhaps, of the existence of the whole human race.

I trembled and my heart failed within me, when, on looking up, I saw by the light of the moon the daemon at the casement. A ghastly grin wrinkled his lips as he gazed on me, where I sat fulfilling the task which he had allotted to me. Yes, he had followed me in my travels; he had loitered in forests, hid himself in caves, or taken refuge in wide and desert heaths; and he now came to mark my progress and claim the fulfilment of my promise.

As I looked on him, his countenance expressed the utmost extent of malice and treachery. I thought with a sensation of madness on my promise of creating another like to him, and trembling with passion, tore to pieces the thing on which I was engaged. The wretch saw me destroy the creature on whose future existence he depended for happiness, and with a howl of devilish despair and revenge, withdrew.

I left the room, and locking the door, made a solemn vow in my own heart never to resume my labours; and then, with trembling steps, I sought my own apartment. I was alone; none were near me to dissipate the gloom and relieve me from the sickening oppression of the most terrible reveries.

Several hours passed, and I remained near my window gazing on the sea; it was almost motionless, for the winds were hushed, and all nature reposed under the eye of the quiet moon. A few fishing vessels alone specked the water, and now and then the gentle breeze wafted the sound of voices as the fishermen called to one another. I felt the silence, although I was hardly conscious of its extreme profundity, until my ear was suddenly arrested by the paddling of oars near the shore, and a person landed close to my house.

In a few minutes after, I heard the creaking of my door, as if some one endeavoured to open it softly. I trembled from head to foot; I felt a presentiment of who it was and wished to rouse one of the peasants who dwelt in a cottage not far from mine; but I was overcome by the sensation of helplessness"

When Solitude Meets Fear and Terror- and analytical essay based on Passage from Mary Shelley’s Novel Frankenstein

The excerpt from Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley’s novel Frankenstein is significant for its excellent combination of dark themes, frightful mood, and strong influence on the reader. In the provided passage, the reader explores the internal struggles of the narrator, who is full of confusion and has to face the demonic creations of his own laboratory work. The themes of solitude, fear, and terror are masterfully presented by using setting, diction, and first person narrator as key literary features.
From the very first line of the passage, the author presents the motionless environment through the words of the narrator. The role of the setting is fundamental, for it can be directly related to the inner state of the protagonist. In the beginning of the excerpt, it is stated that: “the sun had set, and the moon was just rising.” The narrator further says that he “had not sufficient light for [his] employment,” which leads him to a “pause of consideration.” All of these elements of the setting depict a dark, motionless picture, which is full of confusion, and possibly, delusion. Additionally, the transition stage between the sunset and the moonrise implies that a change is coming; thus, this may be interpreted as foreshadowing of an event that is about to occur. Later on in the passage, after the meeting with the fiend, the protagonist enters his apartment and spends several hours gazing on the sea from his window. The sea is “motionless,” the winds are “hushed,” and the moon is “quiet.” Once again, setting is used to develop a static picture, which can be related to the theme of solitude. Nonetheless, the strong effect of the setting would not be reached if the author used mediocre words; the word choice of Mary Shelley makes the descriptions colorful and mystic.
Indeed, diction is a key literary feature, which enriches the vividness of the passage. Considering the fact that Frankenstein is a Gothic horror novel, the majority of descriptions are eerie and mystic. Words such as “remorse,” “ghastly grin,” and “malice” are used in order to make the reader’s blood freeze in his veins. In addition to this strong effect, diction contributes to the development of important themes. For instance, the fear, which the protagonist undergoes, may be felt through the words that he uses to describe his emotional state. An example of that is: “I trembled, and my heart failed within me.” Furthermore, the scientist fears not only from creating another monster; the extent of his fright is greater because he senses that society might decide to have revenge: “I shuddered to think that future ages might curse me as their pest […] at the price perhaps of the existence of the whole human race.” In the last paragraph of the excerpt, the protagonist experiences fear once again; this time it is due to a non-expected visitor; as fear arises, the narrator “trembles from head to foot” and is overcome by a “sensation of helplessness.” Through these personal words by the protagonists, the reader clearly understands his situation and also experiences fear.
The role of the first person narrator is important not only because he leads the reader through the world of the novel, but because he provides a personal experience in a sincere way. The protagonist describes his actions retrospectively, in the past tense, and narrates the story in a sequential way. The feelings inside him are presented directly, and the enormous terror is easily felt. Words such as “I had been struck senseless by his fiendish threats,” and “trembling with passion, [I] tore to pieces the thing on which I was engaged” show the extremity of the narrator’s terror. In his descriptions of the creature he has created, the protagonist emphasizes the demonic side of the fiend; thus, he influences the reader by presenting from his own perspective. A final major feature of the first person narrator is that the reader feels the fear and terror as if he is experiencing it; the use of the “I-form” makes this effect strong.
The excerpt from Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein is a thrilling and effective piece of prose; what makes it strong and vivid is the powerful use of literary features. The author employs setting, diction, and the first person narrator as fundamental factors which make the text descriptive, emotional, and attention-grabbing.

My Friends

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This is one of my favourite friends and he is called Indje Voivodov. He is from Lovechm which is a small industrial town located in the central part of the nothern part of Bulgaria. He is around 24 years old and is currently working fo DITZ, also known as TITAN, which is one of the most powerful and influencial organizations in Bulgaria which is working for the country's economical and environmental development. Even tough he is only 24, he had managed to rise in the firm's hierarchy and become a chief "bokluchar" in the region of Lovech. Indje has a very interesting and amusing personality. He is very tall, smart, dark-skinned, honorable and trustworthy. His favourite hobby is to work with cables, electrical wiring, instruments,steel, and all sorts of such stuff. One of his best abilities is his sence for trading and deals whicha have helped him throughout his entire life.Now he is still living in Lovech and we do not see each other very often, however he is still plays a major part in my life.

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This is one of my best friends called Peter Kolarov. He is sixteen, however he is not one my smartest friends.He comes from a small industrial town in the eastern part of Bulgaria called Karnobat. Peter is eighteen and drives a green wagon. He is a true friend- trustworthy, honest, cute, funny, adorable, a person you can depend on. We've known each other since we were little children, we met in the kindergarden and since then we have been always together. We've been through a lot of interesting situation, some of them happy, other rather unpleasant. He studies now in my school. His favourite hobbies are fighting, retro-chalga,seliania, eating, hiking, football and his faourite dog- Lucky. His dream is to become an officer in the first reguar Bulgarian army, thus since he was little his father trained him in various marshal arts, weaponry, machinery, etc. His father is currently a 'mutra', a chief of MVR which makes him a boss of half of the police force in Sofia.