Peggy Hilt wanted to be a good mother. But day after day, she got out of bed feeling like a failure. No matter what she tried, she couldn't connect with Nina, the 2-year -old girl she'd adopted from Russia as an infant . The preschooler pulled away whenever Hilt tried to hug or kiss her. Nina was physically aggressive with her 4-year-old sister, who had been adopted from Ukraine, and had violent tantrums . Whenever Hilt wasn't watching, she destroyed the family's furniture and possessions. "Every day with Nina had become a struggle," she recalls now. As the girl grew older, things got worse. Hilt fell into a deep depression. She started drinking heavily, something she'd never done before. Ashamed, she hid her problem from everyone, including her husband. On the morning of July 1, 2005, Hilt was packing for a family vocation, all the while swallowing one beer after another and growing increasingly angry and impatient with Nina's deeds. "Everything she did just got to me," Hilt said. When Hilt caught her reaching into her diaper and smearing feces on the walls and furniture, "a year and a half of frustration came to a head," Hilt says. "I snapped . I felt this uncontrollable rage." Then Hilt did something unthinkable. She grabbed Nina around the neck, shook her and then dropped her to the floor, where she kicked her repeatedly before dragging her up to her room, punching her as they went. "I had never hit a child before," she says. "I felt horrible and promised myself that this would never happen again." But _ . Nina woke up with a fever, and then started throwing up. The next day she stopped breathing. By the time the ambulance got the child to the hospital, she was dead. Hilt is now serving a 19-year sentence for second-degree murder in a Virginia prison. She and her husband divorced, and he is raising their other daughter. She realizes the horror of her crime and says she isn't looking for sympathy. "There is no punishment severe enough for what I did," she told NEWSWEEK in an interview at the prison. Why do some adoptions go so wrong? A) It's the kid's fault. B) It's the mother's fault. C) It's the fault of the society. D) The writer doesn't mention the reason.
D
(Question)
My Best Enemy Once again, I was in a new school. So was a girl in my class named Lisa. That's where the similarities ended. I was tall and she was small. My thick black hair had been recently cut short into an untidy style. Her natural blonde hair flowed to her waist and looked great. I was 12 and one of the oldest in the class while she was 11 and the youngest. I was awkward and shy. She wasn't. I couldn't stand her, considering her my enemy. But she liked me and wanted to be friends. One day, she invited me over and I said yes--I was too shocked to answer any other way. My family had moved six times in six years, and I had never managed to develop any friendships. But this girl who wore the latest fashions wanted me to go home with her after school. She lived in a fun part of town that had two pizza places, an all-night bookstore, a movie theater and a park. As we walked from the school bus stop through her neighborhood, I tried to guess which house might be hers. Was it the white one with the perfect lawn or the three-story house with a front porch? I got very surprised when she led me into an old apartment building. She lived on the fourth floor in a two-room place with her mother,her stepfather, her two brothers and her sister. When we got into the room she shared with her sister, she took out a big case of Babies, which was my next surprise. I had never played with them. We sat on the floor,laughing as we made up crazy stories about the Babies. We found out that we both wanted to be writers when we were older and both had wild imaginations. We had a great day that afternoon. Lisa was loved by the whole neighborhood. The bookstore owners lent her fashion magazines; the movie theater gave her free tickets... Soon I was included in her magic world. We slept over at each other's houses and spent every free moment together. Lisa, my first real friend since childhood, helped me get through the rough year of early adolescence and taught me an amazing and very surprising thing about making friends: that your... The writer and Lisa were similar in the way that _ . A) they were of the same age B) they had the same hair styles C) they were both tall D) they were both new students
(Answer)
D
"I Went Skydiving at 84!" As a young girl growing up in the 1930s, I always wanted to fly a plane, but back then it was almost unheard of for a woman to do that. I got a taste of that dream in 2001,when my husband arranged for me to ride in a hot air balloon for my birthday. But the experience turned out to be very dull. Around that time, I told my husband that I wanted to skydive. So when our retirement community announced that they were having an essay competition and the topic was an experience of a lifetime that you wanted to have, I decided to write about my dream. In the essay, I wrote about my desire to skydive, stating George Brush Sr. did it at age 80. Why not me? I was just 84 and in pretty good health. A year went by and I heard nothing. But then at a community party in late April 2009, they announced that I was one of the winners. I just couldn't believe it. Inspired by this, I decided to realize my dream, even though some of my family members and my doctor were against it. On June 11, 2009, nearly 40 of my family and friends gathered in the area close to where I would land while I headed up in the airplane. My _ , Jay, guided me through the experience. The plane was the noisiest one I had ever been in, but I wasn't frightened--I was really just looking forward to the experience. When we reached 13,000 feet, Jay instructed me to throw myself out of the plane. When we first hit the air, the wind was so strong that I could hardly breathe. For a second I thought, "What have I gotten myself into?" But then everything got calmer. We were in a free fall for about a minute before Jay opened the parachute , then we just floated downward for about five minutes. Being up in the clouds and looking at the view below was unlike anything I have ever felt--much better than the hot air balloon. I was just enjoying it. Skydiving was really one of the greatest experiences of my life. I hope other people will look at me and realize that you don't stop living just because you are 84 years old. If there's something... What did the author enjoy most when she was skydiving? A) The beautiful clouds B) The wonderful view C) The company of Jay D) The one-minute free fall
B