The Requirements for Developing and Managing a Comprehensive Management

The Requirements for Developing and Managing a Comprehensive Management Information System The aim of this assignment is to see the requirements for developing and managing a comprehensive Management Information system for an organisation. In today's business environment it is getting harder and harder for organisation’s to not only survive but to compete against other organisation’s. Information technology plays a big part in helping companies compete and survive. Companies that have branches or franchises need to make sure that they can communicate with the head office so that orders can be passed down. Most of a mangers time is spent 1 Passing information and ideas upwards to senior management to aid their decision making 2  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Providing other department managers with information which will help them do their jobs more effectively 3  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Passing information down wards to subordinates 4  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Conveying attitudes or creating them 5  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Receiving and interpreting facts and data 6  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Communicating with people out sides the company e.g. suppliers. The manager needs resources to aid him with the task mentioned above. Management information systems and decision support systems are two such resources. Computers and information systems play critical roles in the operation of most organisations. All organisations, from factories to banks, are highly dependent on information for their day-to-day operations. The vast quantity of information that large corporations and government agencies need to operate, and the speed with which that information is created and used, makes computer-based information systems critical to such operations. What is a Management Information System? There are different definitions of a management information system: â€Å"Management Information system products produce information products that support many of the day-to-day decisions –making needs of management. Reports, displays, and responses produced by such systems provide information that managers have specified in advance as adequately meeting their information needs.† Taken from Management Information Systems Third edition by James A. O’Brien PG 370 â€Å"Management information system can be defined as a network of computer based processing procedures that are integrated with manual and other procedures to provide timely, effective information to support managerial planning ... ...and System Usage", INFOR, Vol. 28 No. 2, May 1990, pp. 89-101 Burrell, G. and G. Morgan, "Sociological Paradigms and Organizational Analysis", Heinemann Press, London, Chismar, William G. and Charles H. Kriebel, "A Method for Assessing the Economic Gallagher, Charles A., "Perceptions of the Value of a Management Information System", Academy of Management Journal, Vol. 17 No. 1, 1974 Hirschheim, Rudy and Heinz K. Klein, "Four Paradigms of Information System Development", King, William R. and Jaime I. Rodriguez, "Evaluating Management Information Systems", MIS Quarterly, September Lee, Allen S., "A Scientific Methodology for MIS Case Studies", MIS Quarterly, March Lucas, Henry C., "Performance and the Use of an Information System", Management Science, Vol. 21 No. 4, April 1975, pp. 908-918 Melone, Nancy Paule, "A Theoretical Assessment of the User Satisfaction Construct in Information Systems Research", Srinavasan, A., "Alternative Measures of System Effectiveness: Associations and Implications", MIS Quarterly, September Weill, Peter, and Margrethe H. Olson, "Managing Investment in Information Technology: Mini Case Examples and Implications", MIS Quarterly, March

Outline and evaluate research into the nature of relationships Essay

A further difference found in the nature of relationships across cultures is the level of continuity. Western societies commonly thrive for change and progress, and so relationships also inevitably undergo change. Because of this, relationships within Western cultures are usually discontinuous and only temporary. In many Eastern cultures, they have a high regard for heritage and ancestry. Unlike in Western cultures, change is not so readily accepted. Non-Western cultures emphasise the idea of continuity and so relationships are often permanent. An issue with this theory is that Western cultures have only recently been more accepting of temporary relationships. In the 1950’s, women’s roles changed dramatically, and they since have had more of a choice within relationships. Since contraception also was introduced, women have gained greater freedom to participate in relationships as this makes the burden of a child optional. This has made break ups and divorces a lot more acceptable in the Western world. This recent change may mean that the differences between Western and Non-Western societies may not be down to the culture itself but due to the social mobility and urbanisation of the society. This makes conclusions taken from this theory hard to generalise, as it may not even be a correct representation of Western and Non-Western culture. You cannot define a culture by its level of urbanisation. There are many distinct differences between relationships in different cultures, as highlighted by various psychological studies and theories. The main similarity in these is that they usually result in relationships being categorised by being Western or Non-Western. Although these categories are commonly used to describe cultural relationships within psychology, a major issue with this is that it makes the study or theory reductionist. This is because it suggests that all relationships can be broken down into two simple components. Reducing relationships into these two simple categories poses the danger of many factors of relationships being disregarded. Individual differences of those involved will massively shape their behaviour within the relationship. For example, some people who live in a Western society may still choose to undergo an arranged marriage (and vice versa), depending on their preferences. Because of this, it is hard to generalise conclusions from these studies/theories to a wider society as they don’t necessarily represent the entire demographic. Drawing such conclusions can leave them susceptible to abuse and manipulation, which could be seen as forms of racism. This can be considered as unethical.

A Troublesome Property: Master-Slave Relations in Florida, 1821-1865 Essay

  In the excerpt, â€Å"A Troublesome Property: Master-Slave Relations in Florida, 1821-1865, the author, Larry Rivers, focuses on the interaction between bondsmen and masters in Florida. It entails the theory that the master might claim the body of his property but could never quite dominate his or her soul. The state of Florida was one that differed in several aspects from other states in the old south which it made known as a free state. There were no slave laws and thus, it was considered a safe haven for many runaway slaves and the Seminole Indians. Due to the fact that there were no slave laws, the slaves often rebelled against their masters. As a result of such rebellions, there was a discipline problem that led many owners to perceive their slaves as â€Å"a troublesome property.† The three areas that the slaves had trouble with their owners were religious behavior, interpersonal relations, and work. With regards to religion, many slave owners, such as, Zephaniah Ki ngsley and Judge Wilkerson believed that religious expressions were a form of independence and would threaten slave control. They believed that their slaves’ would become more empowered and have more bravery and be more difficult to handle and more disobedient. However, other slave owners believed that it should be used as an instrument of control. When slaves were actually able to attend Christian services, it was by a white minister who taught them to obey their masters in order to be saved by God. However, if they disobeyed them, they would not be saved, but destined for damnation. Another aspect, in which there was controversy, was with interpersonal relations. Slave owners believed that if the slaves were married and maintained a family that it would lead to good behavior and higher productivity. Yet, there were many slave owners who did not want their slaves marrying other slaves from different plantations. Nor did these slave owners want their slaves having other slave s visit them or vice versa. The only reason that those slave owners eventually complied is for the fact that the number of male slaves on certain properties began outnumbering the number of female slaves. Slaves were then only allowed to marry if they vowed to remain loyal to their masters and kept working efficiently.   The  work patterns of the slaves were another aspect that caused controversy. The legal system that gave planters absolute power was said to not ensure effective control of the quality or quantity of work performed. Slaves often resisted and insufficient supervision intensified problems. As a result, Slave owners were forced to compromise with the slaves; allowing slaves to report to work after sunrise and to work under less-immediate supervision than other plantations had. Gang systems were also implemented to increase the efficiency and productivity of the workers. Nevertheless, many slaves were performing poorly, resulting in the decision of severe punishments and threats of being sold. When that failed they resorted to positive inducements which included; extra days off during the holidays, additional food allotments, additional free time, or money. In my opinion, I believe the information provided was very insightful. Rivers gave an in depth understanding on the relationsh ip between the slave masters and the slaves. It was very rewarding to know that not all slaves were submissive to their slave masters but rather many stood up for what they believe in. I commend all the slaves that were brave enough to risk their own life’s to practice their religion the right way in secret. They knew what the repercussions would be harsh but they had to fight for what they believed in. I also want to praise the brave men and women who chose to fight back, like Douglass Dorsey who tried to poison his master after witnessing how brutally his mother was treated. The slaves used what they had to their advantage leaving the slave owners no other choice but to bargain with them; this is an epitome of how standing up for what you believe in can make a difference.

Religious Intolerance as Policy During the Reformation

Religious Intolerance as Policy During the Reformation Ever since the biblical dispute of Ishmael and Isaac, persons of different ethnic backgrounds have fought - verbally and physically - over matters of religion and culture. However, the Reformation era of the 15th through 17th Centuries brought about an historic and unique kind of discrimination, because Roman Catholicism in Europe had never been viably challenged within Christianity. True, Eastern Orthodoxy was developed earlier in the millennium, and its Church in Russia and Greece did frequently quarrel with the Catholics. Yet, the centers of the Reformation were geographically much closer to the Catholic Church than that of the Orthodox, and the arguments made by Protestants were very specific to Church doctrine. These both undermined the Church's power very much and led church-friendly governments to crack down on their own religious oppositions. Therefore, the religiously based, if not theocratic governments of the Reformation Era generally felt the need to oppress those within up-and-coming minority religions in policy.Reformation and Counter Reformation in Europe. Pro...The year of 1492 is widely known as the year of Columbus's "discovery" of the New World. Also a dealing of Isabella and Ferdinand, the Jews' expulsion from the country of Spain also took place in this year. Around the timeframe of this event was the Inquisition, in which suspected Jews, infidels and heretics were interrogated by Spanish (Catholic) officials. Although the Inquisition happened before Martin Luther posted the 95 Theses in 1517, before the real Reformation even started, it shows a good example of how Renaissance governments responded to those of minority status.Accused Jews, Muslims and heretics, however, were much more of a minority than the Huguenots in France. The Huguenots, being Protestants, obviously struck a nerve with Catholic governmental influences such as Catherine de Medici. Although there is no influential force such as the Medici family in Ireland, one can draw. ..

Free Essays on Poverty In American Cities

The problems of poverty in American cities in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries are not much different from today. Poverty exists everywhere from the nation’s largest cities to the rural back country and also around the world. There are millions of Americans who have not experienced what most of us experience everyday. My feeling towards poverty is as such: the poor are poor because the rich are rich. The rich have the power to establish trade, and the poor do not. This seems to favor their interests more than those who are suffering from poverty. Poverty in American cities is something that has always been existent, something that has been and might always be a problem. In that, it is a crisis that will never be truly solved; although there may be numerous solutions in solving the problem. There are many programs that have aided in lowering the high risk of poverty; such as social security, food stamps, and housing assistance. Without these benefits, people would be a lot worse than what you see now. These programs have helped, but are not enough to exterminate poverty. There is a history of poverty in America, and one government program that opened the door to a new and better life for many of the poor people in the United States was, â€Å"War on Poverty†. This program gave people the chance to accomplish things they never thought possible†¦ like being happy. This program not only helped the poor, but also improved the economy by increasing the United States’ output. Although this program was not one hundred percent guaranteed, it did a lot of good for the poor and in some cases triggered ideas of other social programs in years to come. â€Å"War on Poverty† was a program that educated and trained those in need with the required skills to ke ep up with the fast-paced society. The program was designed to try to enhance the quality of all American life, the people and the economy, and with the minimum amount of obst... Free Essays on Poverty In American Cities Free Essays on Poverty In American Cities The problems of poverty in American cities in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries are not much different from today. Poverty exists everywhere from the nation’s largest cities to the rural back country and also around the world. There are millions of Americans who have not experienced what most of us experience everyday. My feeling towards poverty is as such: the poor are poor because the rich are rich. The rich have the power to establish trade, and the poor do not. This seems to favor their interests more than those who are suffering from poverty. Poverty in American cities is something that has always been existent, something that has been and might always be a problem. In that, it is a crisis that will never be truly solved; although there may be numerous solutions in solving the problem. There are many programs that have aided in lowering the high risk of poverty; such as social security, food stamps, and housing assistance. Without these benefits, people would be a lot worse than what you see now. These programs have helped, but are not enough to exterminate poverty. There is a history of poverty in America, and one government program that opened the door to a new and better life for many of the poor people in the United States was, â€Å"War on Poverty†. This program gave people the chance to accomplish things they never thought possible†¦ like being happy. This program not only helped the poor, but also improved the economy by increasing the United States’ output. Although this program was not one hundred percent guaranteed, it did a lot of good for the poor and in some cases triggered ideas of other social programs in years to come. â€Å"War on Poverty† was a program that educated and trained those in need with the required skills to ke ep up with the fast-paced society. The program was designed to try to enhance the quality of all American life, the people and the economy, and with the minimum amount of obst...

Blood Promise Chapter TwentyFour

I’d never seen it coming. Hell, no one had. Avery had made a good show of being an air user. Each Moroi had a very low level of control in each element. She’d just barely done enough with air to make it seem like that was her specialization. No one had questioned her further because honestly, who would have ever expected another spirit user around? And since she was out of school, she had no reason to be tested anymore or forced to demonstrate her ability. No one was there to call her on it. The more I thought about it, the more the little signs were there. The charming personality, the way she could talk people into anything. How many of her interactions were spirit controlled? And was it possible†¦ was it possible that Adrian’s attraction had been compulsion on her part? I had no reason to feel happy about that, but†¦ well, I did. More to the point, what did Avery want with Lissa? Avery compelling Adrian into liking her wasn’t too out there. He was good-looking and came from an important family. He was the queen’s great-nephew, and although family members of the current monarch could never inherit the throne immediately afterward, he’d have a good future, one that would always keep him in the highest circles of society. But Lissa? What was Avery’s game there? What did she have to gain? Lissa’s behavior all made sense now-the uncharacteristic partying, weird moods, jealousy, fights with Christian†¦ Avery was pushing Lissa over the edge, causing her to make horrible choices. Avery was using some sort of compulsion to spin Lissa out of control, alienating her and putting her life in danger. Why? What did Avery want? It didn’t matter. The why wasn’t important. The how was, as in how I was going to get out of here and back to my best friend. I looked down at myself, at the delicate silk dress I wore. Suddenly, I hated it. It was a sign of how I’d been, weak and useless. I hastily took it off and ransacked my closet. They’d taken away my jeans and T-shirt, but I’d at least been allowed to keep my hoodie. I put on the green sweater dress, seeing as it was the sturdiest thing I had, feeling moderately more capable. I slipped the hoodie on over it. It hardly made me feel like a badass warrior, but I did feel more competent. Sufficiently dressed for action, I returned to the living room and started that pacing that tended to help me think better-not that I had any reason to believe I was going to come up with new ideas. I’d been trying to for days and days with no luck. Nothing was going to change. â€Å"Damn it!† I yelled, feeling better with the outburst. Angry, I flounced into the desk chair, amazed that I hadn’t simply thrown it against the wall in my frustration. The chair wobbled, ever so slightly. Frowning, I stood up and looked at it. Everything else in this place was state-of-the-art. Odd that I’d have a faulty chair. I knelt down and examined it more closely. There, on one of the legs, was a crack near where the leg joined with the seat. I stared. All of the furniture here was industrial strength, with no obvious joints. I should know, seeing how long I’d beat this chair against the wall when I first arrived. I hadn’t even dented it. Where had this crack come from? Slamming it over and over had done nothing. But I hadn’t been the only one to hit it. That very first day, I’d fought with Dimitri and come after him with the chair. He’d taken it from me and thrown it against the wall. I’d never paid attention to it again, having given up on breaking it. When I’d later tried cracking the window, I’d used an end table because it was heavier. My strength hadn’t been able to damage the chair-but his had. I picked up the chair and immediately slammed it into that diamond-hard window, half-hoping I might kill two birds with one stone. Nope. Both remained intact. So I did it again. And again. I lost track of how many times I slammed that chair into the glass. My hands hurt, and I knew despite my recovery, I still wasn’t at full strength. It was infuriating. Finally, on what felt like my gazillionth try, I looked at the chair and saw the crack had grown bigger. The progress renewed my will and strength. I hit and hit, ignoring the pain as the wood bit into my hands. At long last, I heard a crack, and the leg broke off. I picked it up and stared in amazement. The break hadn’t been clean. It was splintered and sharp. Sharp enough to be a stake? I wasn’t sure. But I knew for a fact that wood was hard, and if I used enough force, I might be able to hit a Strigoi’s heart. It wouldn’t kill one, but the blow would stun. I didn’t know if it’d be enough to get me out of here, but it was all I had now. And it was a hell of a lot more than I’d had one hour ago. I sat back on the bed, recovering from my battle with the chair and tossing the makeshift stake back and forth. Okay. I had a weapon now. But what could I do with it? Dimitri’s face flashed in my mind’s eye. Damn it. There was no question about it. He was the obvious target, the one I’d have to deal with first. The door suddenly clicked open, and I looked up with alarm. Quickly, I shoved the chair into a dark corner as panic raced through me. No, no. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t fully convinced myself to stake him. It was Inna. She carried a tray but didn’t wear her usual subservient expression. The brief look she gave me was filled with hate. I didn’t know what she had to be pissed off about. It wasn’t like I’d caused her any damage. Yet. I strode over like I was going to examine the tray. Lifting the lid, I saw a ham sandwich and french fries. It looked good-I hadn’t eaten in a while -but the adrenaline running through me had shoved any appetite I might have to the background. I glanced back up at her, smiling sweetly. She shot me daggers. Don’t hesitate, Dimitri had always said. I didn’t. I jumped at Inna, throwing her so hard against the floor that her head slammed back. She looked dazed, but quickly recovered and tried to fight back. I wasn’t drugged up this time-well, not much-and my years of training and natural strength finally showed themselves again. I pressed my body against her, keeping her firmly in place. Then, I produced the stake I’d had concealed and pressed those sharp points against her neck. It was like being back in the days of pinning Strigoi in alleys. She couldn’t see that my weapon was a chair leg, but the sharp points got her attention as I dug them into her throat. â€Å"The code,† I said. â€Å"What is the code?† Her only response was a string of obscenities in Russian. Okay, not a surprise, considering she probably didn’t understand me. I flipped through the meager Russian-English dictionary in my head. I’d been in the country long enough to pick up some vocabulary. Admittedly, it was equivalent to a two-year-old’s, but even they could communicate. â€Å"Numbers,† I said in Russian. â€Å"Door.† At least, that’s what I hoped I said. She said more impolite things to me, her expression defiant. It really was the Strigoi interrogation all over. My stake bit harder, drawing blood, and I forcibly restrained myself. I might question whether I had the strength to pierce a Strigoi heart with this, but severing a human’s vein? Cake. She faltered a little, apparently realizing the same thing. Again, I attempted my broken Russian. â€Å"Kill you. No Nathan. Never†¦Ã¢â‚¬  What was the word? The church service came back to me, and I hoped I had it right. â€Å"Never eternal life.† It got her attention. Nathan and eternal life. The things most important to her. She bit her lip, still angry, but her tirade had stopped. â€Å"Numbers. Door,† I repeated. I pushed the stake in harder, and she cried out in pain. At last she spoke, rattling off a series of digits. Russian numbers were something I had memorized pretty solidly, at least. They were essential for addresses and phone numbers. She cited seven numbers. â€Å"Again,† I said. I made her say it three times and hoped I had it. But there was more. I was pretty sure the outer door had a different code. â€Å"Numbers. Door. Two.† I felt like a caveman. Inna stared, not quite getting it. â€Å"Door. Two.† Understanding glinted in her eyes, and she looked mad. I think she’d hoped I wouldn’t realize the other door had its own code. More cutting with the stake made her scream seven more numbers. Again, I made her repeat them, realizing I had no way to know if she was telling me the truth at least until I tried the numbers. For that reason, I decided to keep her around. I felt guilty about what I did next, but these were desperate times. In guardian training, I’d been taught both to kill and to incapacitate. I did the latter this time, slamming her head back against the floor and rendering her unconscious. Her expression went slack, her eyelids drooping. Damn. I was reduced to hurting teenage humans. Standing up, I moved to the door and punched in the first set of numbers, hoping I had them right. To my complete and utter astonishment, I did. The electronic lock clicked, but before I could open the door, I just barely made out another click. Someone had unlocked the outer door. â€Å"Shit,† I muttered. I pulled away from the door immediately, picked up Inna’s unconscious body, and hurried to the bathroom. I set her in the tub as gently as possible and had just shut the bathroom door when I heard the main door open. I felt the telltale nausea that signaled a Strigoi was nearby. I knew one of the Strigoi could smell a human, and I hoped shutting her away would be enough to mute Inna’s scent. I emerged from the hall and found Dimitri in the living room. I grinned at him and ran into his arms. â€Å"You’re back,† I said happily. He held me briefly and then stepped back. â€Å"Yes.† He seemed slightly pleased at the greeting, but soon his face was all business. â€Å"Have you made your decision?† No hello. No how are you feeling? My heart sank. This wasn’t Dimitri. â€Å"I have more questions.† I went over to the bed and lay down in a casual way, just like we always did. He followed a few moments later and sat on the edge, looking down at me. â€Å"How long will it take?† I asked. â€Å"When you awaken me? Is it instantaneous?† Once more, I launched into an interrogation session. Honestly, I was running out of questions, and at this point, I didn’t really want to know the intricacies of becoming Strigoi. I was becoming more and more agitated with each passing moment. I had to act. I had to make use of my fleeting opportunity here. And yet†¦ before I could act, I had to reassure myself that this really wasn’t Dimitri. It was stupid. I should know by now. I could see the physical changes. I’d seen his coldness, the brutality. I’d seen him come fresh from a kill. This wasn’t the man I’d loved. And yet†¦ for that one fleeting moment earlier†¦ With a sigh, Dimitri stretched out beside me. â€Å"Rose,† he interrupted, â€Å"if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were stalling for time.† Yeah, even as a Strigoi, Dimitri knew how I thought and schemed. I realized if I was going to be convincing, I had to stop playing dumb and remember to be Rose Hathaway. I put on a look of outrage. â€Å"Of course I am! This is a big deal. I came here to kill you, and now you’re asking me to join you. You think this is easy for me to do?† â€Å"Do you think it’s been easy for me to wait this long?† he asked. â€Å"The only ones who get choices are Moroi who willingly kill, like the Ozeras. No one else gets a choice. I didn’t get a choice.† â€Å"And don’t you regret that?† â€Å"No, not now. Now that I’m who I was meant to be.† He frowned. â€Å"The only thing hurt is my pride-that Nathan forced me and that he acts as though I’m indebted to him. Which is why I’m being kind enough to give you the choice now, for the sake of your pride.† Kind, huh? I looked at him and felt my heart breaking all over again. It was like hearing the news of his death once more. I suddenly grew afraid I might cry. No. No tears. Dimitri always talked about prey and predators. I had to be the predator. â€Å"You’re sweating,† he said suddenly. â€Å"Why?† Damn, damn, damn. Of course I was sweating. I was contemplating staking the man I loved-or thought I’d loved. And along with sweat, I was sure I was giving off pheromones of my agitation. Strigoi could smell all of those things, too. â€Å"Because I’m scared,† I whispered. I propped myself up and stroked the edge of his face, trying to memorize all of his features. The eyes. The hair. The shape of his cheekbones. In my imagination, I overlaid the things I remembered. Dark eyes. Tanned skin. Sweet smile. â€Å"I†¦ I think I’m ready, but it’s†¦ I don’t know. It’s such a big thing.† â€Å"It’ll be the best decision of your life, Roza.† My breathing was growing rapid, and I prayed he’d think it was because of my fear of being turned. â€Å"Tell me again. One more time. Why do you want to awaken me so badly?† A slightly weary look crossed his face. â€Å"Because I want you. I’ve always wanted you.† And that’s when I knew. I finally realized the problem. He’d given that same answer over and over, and each time, something about it had bothered me. I’d never been able to pinpoint it, though. Now I could. He wanted me. Wanted me in the way people wanted possessions or collectibles. The Dimitri I’d known†¦ the one I’d fallen for and slept with†¦ that Dimitri would have said he wanted us to be together because he loved me. There was no love here. I smiled at him. Leaning down, I kissed him gently. He probably thought I was doing it for the reasons I always did, out of attraction and desire. In truth, it was a goodbye kiss. His mouth answered mine, his lips warm and eager. I held out the kiss a little longer, both to fight back the tears leaking out of my eyes and to lull him into an unsuspecting state. My hand closed around the chair leg, which I’d hidden in my hoodie pocket. I would never forget Dimitri, not for the rest of my life. And this time, I wouldn’t forget his lessons. With a speed he wasn’t ready for, I struck out and plunged the stake through his chest. My strength was there-sliding the stake past the ribs and straight into his heart. And as I did it, it was like piercing my own heart at the same time. Blood Promise Chapter TwentyFour I’d never seen it coming. Hell, no one had. Avery had made a good show of being an air user. Each Moroi had a very low level of control in each element. She’d just barely done enough with air to make it seem like that was her specialization. No one had questioned her further because honestly, who would have ever expected another spirit user around? And since she was out of school, she had no reason to be tested anymore or forced to demonstrate her ability. No one was there to call her on it. The more I thought about it, the more the little signs were there. The charming personality, the way she could talk people into anything. How many of her interactions were spirit controlled? And was it possible†¦ was it possible that Adrian’s attraction had been compulsion on her part? I had no reason to feel happy about that, but†¦ well, I did. More to the point, what did Avery want with Lissa? Avery compelling Adrian into liking her wasn’t too out there. He was good-looking and came from an important family. He was the queen’s great-nephew, and although family members of the current monarch could never inherit the throne immediately afterward, he’d have a good future, one that would always keep him in the highest circles of society. But Lissa? What was Avery’s game there? What did she have to gain? Lissa’s behavior all made sense now-the uncharacteristic partying, weird moods, jealousy, fights with Christian†¦ Avery was pushing Lissa over the edge, causing her to make horrible choices. Avery was using some sort of compulsion to spin Lissa out of control, alienating her and putting her life in danger. Why? What did Avery want? It didn’t matter. The why wasn’t important. The how was, as in how I was going to get out of here and back to my best friend. I looked down at myself, at the delicate silk dress I wore. Suddenly, I hated it. It was a sign of how I’d been, weak and useless. I hastily took it off and ransacked my closet. They’d taken away my jeans and T-shirt, but I’d at least been allowed to keep my hoodie. I put on the green sweater dress, seeing as it was the sturdiest thing I had, feeling moderately more capable. I slipped the hoodie on over it. It hardly made me feel like a badass warrior, but I did feel more competent. Sufficiently dressed for action, I returned to the living room and started that pacing that tended to help me think better-not that I had any reason to believe I was going to come up with new ideas. I’d been trying to for days and days with no luck. Nothing was going to change. â€Å"Damn it!† I yelled, feeling better with the outburst. Angry, I flounced into the desk chair, amazed that I hadn’t simply thrown it against the wall in my frustration. The chair wobbled, ever so slightly. Frowning, I stood up and looked at it. Everything else in this place was state-of-the-art. Odd that I’d have a faulty chair. I knelt down and examined it more closely. There, on one of the legs, was a crack near where the leg joined with the seat. I stared. All of the furniture here was industrial strength, with no obvious joints. I should know, seeing how long I’d beat this chair against the wall when I first arrived. I hadn’t even dented it. Where had this crack come from? Slamming it over and over had done nothing. But I hadn’t been the only one to hit it. That very first day, I’d fought with Dimitri and come after him with the chair. He’d taken it from me and thrown it against the wall. I’d never paid attention to it again, having given up on breaking it. When I’d later tried cracking the window, I’d used an end table because it was heavier. My strength hadn’t been able to damage the chair-but his had. I picked up the chair and immediately slammed it into that diamond-hard window, half-hoping I might kill two birds with one stone. Nope. Both remained intact. So I did it again. And again. I lost track of how many times I slammed that chair into the glass. My hands hurt, and I knew despite my recovery, I still wasn’t at full strength. It was infuriating. Finally, on what felt like my gazillionth try, I looked at the chair and saw the crack had grown bigger. The progress renewed my will and strength. I hit and hit, ignoring the pain as the wood bit into my hands. At long last, I heard a crack, and the leg broke off. I picked it up and stared in amazement. The break hadn’t been clean. It was splintered and sharp. Sharp enough to be a stake? I wasn’t sure. But I knew for a fact that wood was hard, and if I used enough force, I might be able to hit a Strigoi’s heart. It wouldn’t kill one, but the blow would stun. I didn’t know if it’d be enough to get me out of here, but it was all I had now. And it was a hell of a lot more than I’d had one hour ago. I sat back on the bed, recovering from my battle with the chair and tossing the makeshift stake back and forth. Okay. I had a weapon now. But what could I do with it? Dimitri’s face flashed in my mind’s eye. Damn it. There was no question about it. He was the obvious target, the one I’d have to deal with first. The door suddenly clicked open, and I looked up with alarm. Quickly, I shoved the chair into a dark corner as panic raced through me. No, no. I wasn’t ready. I hadn’t fully convinced myself to stake him. It was Inna. She carried a tray but didn’t wear her usual subservient expression. The brief look she gave me was filled with hate. I didn’t know what she had to be pissed off about. It wasn’t like I’d caused her any damage. Yet. I strode over like I was going to examine the tray. Lifting the lid, I saw a ham sandwich and french fries. It looked good-I hadn’t eaten in a while -but the adrenaline running through me had shoved any appetite I might have to the background. I glanced back up at her, smiling sweetly. She shot me daggers. Don’t hesitate, Dimitri had always said. I didn’t. I jumped at Inna, throwing her so hard against the floor that her head slammed back. She looked dazed, but quickly recovered and tried to fight back. I wasn’t drugged up this time-well, not much-and my years of training and natural strength finally showed themselves again. I pressed my body against her, keeping her firmly in place. Then, I produced the stake I’d had concealed and pressed those sharp points against her neck. It was like being back in the days of pinning Strigoi in alleys. She couldn’t see that my weapon was a chair leg, but the sharp points got her attention as I dug them into her throat. â€Å"The code,† I said. â€Å"What is the code?† Her only response was a string of obscenities in Russian. Okay, not a surprise, considering she probably didn’t understand me. I flipped through the meager Russian-English dictionary in my head. I’d been in the country long enough to pick up some vocabulary. Admittedly, it was equivalent to a two-year-old’s, but even they could communicate. â€Å"Numbers,† I said in Russian. â€Å"Door.† At least, that’s what I hoped I said. She said more impolite things to me, her expression defiant. It really was the Strigoi interrogation all over. My stake bit harder, drawing blood, and I forcibly restrained myself. I might question whether I had the strength to pierce a Strigoi heart with this, but severing a human’s vein? Cake. She faltered a little, apparently realizing the same thing. Again, I attempted my broken Russian. â€Å"Kill you. No Nathan. Never†¦Ã¢â‚¬  What was the word? The church service came back to me, and I hoped I had it right. â€Å"Never eternal life.† It got her attention. Nathan and eternal life. The things most important to her. She bit her lip, still angry, but her tirade had stopped. â€Å"Numbers. Door,† I repeated. I pushed the stake in harder, and she cried out in pain. At last she spoke, rattling off a series of digits. Russian numbers were something I had memorized pretty solidly, at least. They were essential for addresses and phone numbers. She cited seven numbers. â€Å"Again,† I said. I made her say it three times and hoped I had it. But there was more. I was pretty sure the outer door had a different code. â€Å"Numbers. Door. Two.† I felt like a caveman. Inna stared, not quite getting it. â€Å"Door. Two.† Understanding glinted in her eyes, and she looked mad. I think she’d hoped I wouldn’t realize the other door had its own code. More cutting with the stake made her scream seven more numbers. Again, I made her repeat them, realizing I had no way to know if she was telling me the truth at least until I tried the numbers. For that reason, I decided to keep her around. I felt guilty about what I did next, but these were desperate times. In guardian training, I’d been taught both to kill and to incapacitate. I did the latter this time, slamming her head back against the floor and rendering her unconscious. Her expression went slack, her eyelids drooping. Damn. I was reduced to hurting teenage humans. Standing up, I moved to the door and punched in the first set of numbers, hoping I had them right. To my complete and utter astonishment, I did. The electronic lock clicked, but before I could open the door, I just barely made out another click. Someone had unlocked the outer door. â€Å"Shit,† I muttered. I pulled away from the door immediately, picked up Inna’s unconscious body, and hurried to the bathroom. I set her in the tub as gently as possible and had just shut the bathroom door when I heard the main door open. I felt the telltale nausea that signaled a Strigoi was nearby. I knew one of the Strigoi could smell a human, and I hoped shutting her away would be enough to mute Inna’s scent. I emerged from the hall and found Dimitri in the living room. I grinned at him and ran into his arms. â€Å"You’re back,† I said happily. He held me briefly and then stepped back. â€Å"Yes.† He seemed slightly pleased at the greeting, but soon his face was all business. â€Å"Have you made your decision?† No hello. No how are you feeling? My heart sank. This wasn’t Dimitri. â€Å"I have more questions.† I went over to the bed and lay down in a casual way, just like we always did. He followed a few moments later and sat on the edge, looking down at me. â€Å"How long will it take?† I asked. â€Å"When you awaken me? Is it instantaneous?† Once more, I launched into an interrogation session. Honestly, I was running out of questions, and at this point, I didn’t really want to know the intricacies of becoming Strigoi. I was becoming more and more agitated with each passing moment. I had to act. I had to make use of my fleeting opportunity here. And yet†¦ before I could act, I had to reassure myself that this really wasn’t Dimitri. It was stupid. I should know by now. I could see the physical changes. I’d seen his coldness, the brutality. I’d seen him come fresh from a kill. This wasn’t the man I’d loved. And yet†¦ for that one fleeting moment earlier†¦ With a sigh, Dimitri stretched out beside me. â€Å"Rose,† he interrupted, â€Å"if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were stalling for time.† Yeah, even as a Strigoi, Dimitri knew how I thought and schemed. I realized if I was going to be convincing, I had to stop playing dumb and remember to be Rose Hathaway. I put on a look of outrage. â€Å"Of course I am! This is a big deal. I came here to kill you, and now you’re asking me to join you. You think this is easy for me to do?† â€Å"Do you think it’s been easy for me to wait this long?† he asked. â€Å"The only ones who get choices are Moroi who willingly kill, like the Ozeras. No one else gets a choice. I didn’t get a choice.† â€Å"And don’t you regret that?† â€Å"No, not now. Now that I’m who I was meant to be.† He frowned. â€Å"The only thing hurt is my pride-that Nathan forced me and that he acts as though I’m indebted to him. Which is why I’m being kind enough to give you the choice now, for the sake of your pride.† Kind, huh? I looked at him and felt my heart breaking all over again. It was like hearing the news of his death once more. I suddenly grew afraid I might cry. No. No tears. Dimitri always talked about prey and predators. I had to be the predator. â€Å"You’re sweating,† he said suddenly. â€Å"Why?† Damn, damn, damn. Of course I was sweating. I was contemplating staking the man I loved-or thought I’d loved. And along with sweat, I was sure I was giving off pheromones of my agitation. Strigoi could smell all of those things, too. â€Å"Because I’m scared,† I whispered. I propped myself up and stroked the edge of his face, trying to memorize all of his features. The eyes. The hair. The shape of his cheekbones. In my imagination, I overlaid the things I remembered. Dark eyes. Tanned skin. Sweet smile. â€Å"I†¦ I think I’m ready, but it’s†¦ I don’t know. It’s such a big thing.† â€Å"It’ll be the best decision of your life, Roza.† My breathing was growing rapid, and I prayed he’d think it was because of my fear of being turned. â€Å"Tell me again. One more time. Why do you want to awaken me so badly?† A slightly weary look crossed his face. â€Å"Because I want you. I’ve always wanted you.† And that’s when I knew. I finally realized the problem. He’d given that same answer over and over, and each time, something about it had bothered me. I’d never been able to pinpoint it, though. Now I could. He wanted me. Wanted me in the way people wanted possessions or collectibles. The Dimitri I’d known†¦ the one I’d fallen for and slept with†¦ that Dimitri would have said he wanted us to be together because he loved me. There was no love here. I smiled at him. Leaning down, I kissed him gently. He probably thought I was doing it for the reasons I always did, out of attraction and desire. In truth, it was a goodbye kiss. His mouth answered mine, his lips warm and eager. I held out the kiss a little longer, both to fight back the tears leaking out of my eyes and to lull him into an unsuspecting state. My hand closed around the chair leg, which I’d hidden in my hoodie pocket. I would never forget Dimitri, not for the rest of my life. And this time, I wouldn’t forget his lessons. With a speed he wasn’t ready for, I struck out and plunged the stake through his chest. My strength was there-sliding the stake past the ribs and straight into his heart. And as I did it, it was like piercing my own heart at the same time.

Response Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 500 words - 23

Response - Essay Example After all the friends left him, Abu al-Hasan went back to his mother’s house. He promises to keep distance from his untrustworthy old friends. Therefore, Abu al-Hasan develops a new approach of inviting only strangers to his home at night. Afterwards, he refuses to recognize them. He spent a year inviting and engaging strangers. One-day Abu al-Hasan welcomed two men disguised in merchants dress to his home. Namely the Caliph and Masrur, the Sworder of his retribution. After the new friends drank and dined, Abu al-Hasan informed them that they would never meet through the story about Larrikin and the Cook (Tarnowska and Naff 471). Up to this level, Abu al-Hasan transforms into a careful yet gullible person. He extensively used symbolism and metaphors in the story to explain and justify his experiences. During the story, Larrikin mentioned that the narrative had a cause and a tail. Therefore, Caliph probed Abu to explain the cause of the story. However, Caliph objected to leave. The story took an interesting twist when Caliph asked Abu about his wish. Ironically, Abu requested to be Caliph for one day to punish shaykhs who oppressed and disapproved his hospitality. Later Caliph covertly placed Cretan Bhang in Abu’s beverage and instructed Masrur to take Abu to the Palace after he fell asleep. The Caliph told everyone in the Palace to obey and pretend Abu to fulfill his dream. Upon waking up, Abu al-Hasan found himself in a deluxe apartment. He wondered if it was paradise or heaven. Consequently, Abu assumed his new role while the Caliph watched and laughed from hiding. Later that night Caliph placed another Bhang in Abu’s drink, which made him to fall asleep (Tarnowska and Naff 477). Abu woke up in his mother’s home the next morning. His mother insisted it was a dream while Abu emphasized about the Caliph until he beat his mum with a staff. Folk outside reasoned that Jinn