Descriptive Essay
Katrina Druffner
Pre-Ap English
5th Period- Fig
September 19, 2013
Jail Release
The voice of freedom finally shrieks in my ear as the sharp piercing sounds breaks the lazy silence that hovers about the classroom on a Friday afternoon. Immediately, as if it is feeding time at the zoo, scrambling kids make a mad dash for the exit, trying to beat the crowd of oncoming students. Time stops, and draws a blank in my mind for a moment. I stand up lazily, and my sore muscles ache with a full week’s work from this simple exercise. I grasp my black and white polka-dotted tote bag, its ponderous weight sinking into my body. It slumps up against my side, and my shoulders cry out to me in desperation as the handle settles in to the already well- worn bruise there. I take upon myself the ponderous burden of carrying my weighty history book in one hand. Scars of long study sessions and 4 am nights litter the cover of it. The evil book glances up at me, mocking my recent failure, and seizing every opportunity to deride me. My feet shuffle, stiff at first from the burdening day, but the trudging gradually picks up into a distorted dash for freedom, not looking behind at the already empty classroom.
The hallway groans, its insides aching, as jostling people jam-pack its borders. The sleek polished floor and sporadic chatter of people is a sharp contrast to the dull lull of my previous class, but my mind soon focuses in. Automatically my feet walk the known path from my last class of the day to the stairs. Cold and cruel this morning, they are no longer a mountain to climb up, but an easy descension; I know my destination now, and the peace that awaits me there. Eagerly I take the first step downward, but I have forgotten my stiff knees moan in protest, resisting the orders I give them to bend. Instead, I make an awkward penguin-like walk down the stairs. My aching limbs try to tell me to stop the journey, but I must persist. Time passes slowly, but the last step energizes
Pre-Ap English
5th Period- Fig
September 19, 2013
Jail Release
The voice of freedom finally shrieks in my ear as the sharp piercing sounds breaks the lazy silence that hovers about the classroom on a Friday afternoon. Immediately, as if it is feeding time at the zoo, scrambling kids make a mad dash for the exit, trying to beat the crowd of oncoming students. Time stops, and draws a blank in my mind for a moment. I stand up lazily, and my sore muscles ache with a full week’s work from this simple exercise. I grasp my black and white polka-dotted tote bag, its ponderous weight sinking into my body. It slumps up against my side, and my shoulders cry out to me in desperation as the handle settles in to the already well- worn bruise there. I take upon myself the ponderous burden of carrying my weighty history book in one hand. Scars of long study sessions and 4 am nights litter the cover of it. The evil book glances up at me, mocking my recent failure, and seizing every opportunity to deride me. My feet shuffle, stiff at first from the burdening day, but the trudging gradually picks up into a distorted dash for freedom, not looking behind at the already empty classroom.
The hallway groans, its insides aching, as jostling people jam-pack its borders. The sleek polished floor and sporadic chatter of people is a sharp contrast to the dull lull of my previous class, but my mind soon focuses in. Automatically my feet walk the known path from my last class of the day to the stairs. Cold and cruel this morning, they are no longer a mountain to climb up, but an easy descension; I know my destination now, and the peace that awaits me there. Eagerly I take the first step downward, but I have forgotten my stiff knees moan in protest, resisting the orders I give them to bend. Instead, I make an awkward penguin-like walk down the stairs. My aching limbs try to tell me to stop the journey, but I must persist. Time passes slowly, but the last step energizes