Améliorer son enseignement (Chapitre) (French Edition)

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It was raining. She gave a small sigh, resting her head against a pillow. She felt oddly at peace on nights like this, like there was nothing but her and the rain. Placing her book on her lap, she listened to the pitter patter of raindrops pelting against the window. The air was solemn. A cold breeze whispered a quiet tune, though graceful, it seemed dark and foreboding, haunting almost. Her eyes grew heavy as she gazed out the window.

Her blinks became lingering and slow, as if time was starting to pause. She was tired. Turning her gaze from the window, she glanced towards the clock. It was late. She hadn't realized how long she'd been up reading. I can't believe I have to get up in six hours She continued to groan. Sarah began to drag herself around the room, acting as if her legs were lead weights. After making her way to the dresser, she not-so-gracefully chucked her jeans and T-shirt and reached for a knee-length frumpy night shirt.

As Sarah held the shirt out in front of her, her gaze couldn't help but catch her reflection in the mirror. Something seemed odd for some reason. There was a loud crash of thunder, rattling the old wooden beams holding up Sarah's room. She jumped slightly, as if she'd been waken from a deep sleep. She saw flashes of light in the reflection of the mirror. Time seemed to pause again. It was strange, seeing the crash of lightening yet hearing nothing. There was yet another loud boom of thunder, once again ripping Sarah from her daze.

But something was different this time. The power went out. Throwing her shirt over her head she made her way to the other side of the room, flicking the light switch up and down. Sarah sat on the bed and pulled the covers back, when something caught her eye. There was a light, coming from her dresser. She looked up and saw the red glow was coming from her alarm clock. She wondered if the power had come back on for a moment, before all the blood left her face.

Sarah sat frozen, staring at the clock ringing thirteen. Her hand gripped the comforter and her breath drew sharp. She quickly stood, darting her head around the room. It was quiet, unnaturally so. The rain was still falling, harder than before, yet it made no sound. She took a step back, bumping into the bed. She shrieked when a hand clamped around her ankle. She stumbled forward, turning around and around frantically. Her heart pounded, she didn't know what to do. Then the silence ended. One by one, garbled snickers filled the room. The storm outside cast dancing shadows across the room, making her unable to decipher was was there and what wasn't.

Through her efforts, she heard the voices grow louder and louder. In a furry, she made a mad dash towards the door. To her dismay, it was locked. I haven't said anything. Please, stop! She felt tiny hands start to pull at the fabric of her shirt, and she felt a tear slide down her cheek. Dear God, why is this happening? The tiny grips on her shirt grew tighter, and started to tug, inching her away from the door. Sarah held onto the handle of the door with all her might, squirming furiously to escape. Help me! Somehow, through her rush of emotion, a clear thought chimed through.

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They're after ME? I haven't said the words Is Jareth? Her head darted to the window, searching for the menacing owl she never thought she'd be praying to see.

There was nothing. There was no one there. Jareth wasn't there. He wasn't even coming. A new surge of terror bubbled through her. At the very least she'd expected Jareth to come floating in making fantastic promises of magic and splendor. She had all of two seconds to take this in before she felt a hard tug on her waist, pulling her from her thoughts.

She was inching closer and closer across the room, towards the mirror. Sarah watched as one by one the dark figures reverted into the mirror, leaving nothing but their conniving smiles and sickly laughter.

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The mirror? She wondered. They're pulling me into the mirror? She clawed for anything, the bed, a chair, the very floor, but with no avail. Although they were much smaller than her, the Goblins seemed to possess a strength unknown to human physics. She felt herself being lifted up from the ground, the handles on the drawers of her dresser dug into her back as the creatures pulled her onto it.

Sarah's chest puffed up and down uncontrollably, her hair standing on edge on the back of her neck. She felt something cold on the back of her head.


Refresh and try again. Open Preview See a Problem? Details if other :. Thanks for telling us about the problem. Return to Book Page. Richie Dawson is a special needs teenager who lived a double life. Starting school and puberty in a special program, Richie pretends that everything is normal, yet deep down, Richie wants to become his true self, a girl named Karen.

Green Day - Boulevard of Broken Dreams (Lyrics)

The further int Richie Dawson is a special needs teenager who lived a double life. The further into puberty Richie progresses, the more he becomes Karen.

Awakening From Broken Dreams

A life changing event suddenly causes Richie to die off and become Karen forever. Only time will tell. Awakening from Broken Dreams was originally written and published in Get A Copy. Kindle Edition , pages.

Awakening – Dreams – Vinoba Bhave? — OSHO Online Library

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