Answer:
As Jem and Dill grow older, they begin neglecting Scout and prefer to play by themselves in the tree house. Both boys are also competitive and argue with each other over trivial matters. Similar to most adolescents, Jem and Dill tend to bicker and disagree over insignificant things while still remaining best friends.
Explanation:
B. testimonial is the correct answer for this question.
Vivid details is the narrative technique that is being used in the following excerpt.
Her soft, pale hands had been leaning onto the wall for support in the darkness. Her eyes were strained to try to see in what seemed like a dark abyss. She could feel the warm tears cascading down her delicate face. She could see movement in the darkness, or perhaps that was trickery from her mind from the lack of sleep. She could hear sudden screams from down the hallway. Painful screams from inside the basement. Oh, how she hated the basement. She always felt like she was being watched from every angle like silent judgement from watchful eyes that weren't even there. Or were they? Her slow footsteps had turned into rapid pacing as she sprinted through the cave of a hallway. She turned left and down the East wing to the basement door. As she ran she felt like the darkness and the monotone walls mixing together like paint on a pallette. She met with a hard surface and a sharp pain throughout her body. She quickly regained her stature and twisted the knob slowly and pulled the door closer to her as it creaked in distain. She stepped down the old, wooden steps into the basement that she had dreaded since her youth. The creaking of the stairs had made her uneasy with each step she had took down. It almost felt like the walls were caving in slowly and she felt her breathing increase. She saw arms emerge out of the peeling paint on the walls. Long, strongly arms reaching out to me and grabbing my limbs. I screamed in fear, I felt like the walls were screaming with me. The arms stretched me out limb by limb until I couldn't be stretched anymore. I had whipped up from my bed, my breathing tough and rigid. My arms were gripping the sheets in fear as sweat beaded on my forehead. Just a dream.... but it wasn't a dream... it was a nightmare. My breathing had become more controlled and I slowly closed my eyes to dream once more.
Answer:
B. The polite behavior people should follow when communicating online
Explanation: