Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: I'm know 21 so I'm going to count that still as a kid because the world is still new to me. I work know security and one night at around 2am I walked in the bathroom because a customer complained about a man yelling in the bathroom. I told my partner I would go check it out by myself so he could stay and keep quality control of who comes in the venue. I walk in and in the first cubicle I could see lots and lots of blood on the floor and a pair of feet placed as if he was sitting down. I quickly go to the next cubicle asking at the same time if the person was OK obviously with no response. I look over and it was a horrible bloody mess. I quickly get on the radio and tell my partner to call police and ambulance and to put the place on lock down. I walk around to the from of the cubicle and kick open the door. The man had grabbed a straight razor and cut his arms extremely deep from the wrist downwards all the way to his elbow palms up. On both arms mind you. A good example of what it would look like would be the scene from the terminator 2 where Arnold cuts the skin off from his arm. The ambulance came and had to call another team to collect the body. The building was closed for around a day and a half they had to repaint and do all sorts of things because of so much blood. Ill say they do not train you for seeing such horrible things or even mention that it can happen I'm lucky enough to have a strong head and can handle seeing such horror. Of course Im not 100% OK from it and now keep a close eye on the bathrooms. But I'm OK enough to continue working and only saw a psychologist twice about it. So yea that's the worst thing I have seen In my life. Question: After what had happened, how did the writer feel? Options: A. didn't care B. not enough information C. worried D. concerned
D

Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: Yes; I have a rare form of cluster/ice pick headaches that can affect any part of my body. It's quite uncommon, but essentially I can get an excruciating migraine in my arm, leg, etc., on top of getting them in my head/temples. For years my family and I had no idea what was happening, and with no vocabulary to properly explain what was happening, I described it for about fifteen years as "beeping." Doctors told us it was anything from growth spurts to a grab for attention, and for a while I gave up trying to figure out what they were. When they got worse and I couldn't ignore them anymore, I was finally sent to a neurologist, who diagnosed me with ice pick headaches. I let out a sigh of relief that I didn't even know I was holding in; I felt like I could finally breathe. Years of stress and confusion washed off of me, and I started taking a beta blocker to prevent them. I've been on them for a few years now, and it's changed my life for the better. I used to be terrified of learning to drive, for many reasons, but a large one being that if I got an ice pick headache on the road, I couldn't guarantee the safety of those around me if I was at the wheel. Now I'm considering finally getting my license (considering - I still don't like being behind the wheel), I don't double over in white hot pain randomly anymore, and when I do get a cluster headache, I can still function. It almost sounds a little silly, but really, they were crippling, and being able to work through them on my own? It's the greatest gift I've given to myself. You know yourself better than anyone, even if you feel like you don't know yourself. If something feels wrong, don't just live with it - keep pushing for a correct diagnosis! Question: After she was diagnosed with ice pick headaches, what did the character want to get? Options: A. Her license B. gift C. not enough information D. A beta blocker
A

Q: Read the following context and choose the correct option to answer the question. Context: The drive up to Rick's place in the hills always made me sick. Just after he bought the house with his ill gotten gains from his band's over-hyped, over-marketed, and over-bought sophomore Disc, he drove me out to see it in his beautiful but nauseating '70 Datsun 240 Z. All the smog combined with the pinball effects of winding up the hill at teeth-numbing speeds had me puking for an hour after we got there. I took the last turn at the top of the hill and watched the rising sun crest over the black blocks of the city, her angel wings soiled and cheapened with the soot of 12 million get-away drivers. Rick's house came into view out of the fog, its large glass panes sparkling like the last clean surface of an oversized ashtray. I parked between a blue hatchback and Rick's favorite toy: a 350 horsepower Impreza he had smuggled here from Japan. All his more expensive rides were in the garage, collecting dust and gaining vintage resale value. I rang the bell. I waited and watched a couple of squirrels fight over a small treasure in the bushes. The door opened. "Dingo." "Hey, Luna." Her job as Rick's assistant was to take care of his place while he was out being a rock star. She made sure all his bills were paid, his animals were fed, and that the subsequent fallout from any parties she might have in his absence didn't leave any lasting damage. She was pretty by most standards, gorgeous by others. Short with a tight schoolgirl body and raven hair that teased her avian shoulders. But by whatever standard, her beauty was like a rare and exotic bird she kept caged behind the bars of her perfect teeth. As soon as she opened her mouth it flew away. Question: How long is probably a drive to Rick's house? Options: A. not enough information B. 30 minutes C. 4 hours D. 5 minutes
A: B