Paned Nights At quarter to two‚ the moon shone down with an ashen glow. Its sullen radiance provided the perfect ambience in front of his bedroom window. Lighting barely filtered through the layers of fog‚ another set of curtains that hung beyond paned glass. Expected footsteps pierced through thin walls‚ disrupting him from slumber and once again‚ forcing his attention across the street. A young boy could be seen‚ the mop on his head bouncing loosely as he jerked himself through the barricade of
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Chapter One We played in the woods until dark. The moon cast an eerie glow on the trees as we ran around. A bat flew overhead and I ducked. It was my turn to count for hide -n- seek. “One‚ two‚ three four‚ fi- Aaaaahhhhh. What was that?” I asked myself outloud. I began in the direction of the screams when I came upon a house. The front door was wide open. I saw someone dash across the opening. Then the screaming began again. “Aaaaahhhh! Help us Alex! We’re in here!” The sound was clearly coming
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About noon‚ on the fifth day of their journey‚ Charity told Uriah to stop the wagon. Looking around‚ Uriah did not see anything in particular that caught his attention and did not know why she wanted him to stop; as far as he could tell‚ there was not anything they needed there. And‚ his mother had not gotten off the wagon to go do her business or said anything about eating lunch. So‚ after bringing the horses and wagon to a complete halt‚ he turned to Charity and asked‚ “Why did you want me to stop
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The car raced along a black highway‚ the leaving town sign was the only thing to read‚ the faintly lit sign quickly faded behind the car as we drove. I was in no rush‚ but I knew she was stuck in a form of limbo‚ waiting. The only thing to light our dark midnight drive was the passing of the street lamps illuminating the dark road ahead. The radio was on but no one was listening‚ I looked out the windshield and would feel the street lights on me for a brief moment before they disappeared only to
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Once upon a time there was a kind and generous girl named Alana. She was just a normal girl but she was a triplet. She had two sisters. Azera was an evil sorcerer that was sent to prison. If you looked at Azera’s face it looked like a rat that was poisoned. It would make you never want to see that face again. Ally was just like Alana. She was sweet‚ pretty‚ and smart. Both of them had a love of soccer and math. Ally and Alana looked exactly the same. Only the people that knew them the very best
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Forests always made Modred happy. They gave him a sense of safety‚ a quiet place to think. He loved the sound of leaves crunching under his boots‚ and whenever displeased‚(which was quite often)‚ he would snap twigs and branches. It was one of those days where Mordred was displeased. This time it was with his adoptive father. All he had done was kill a wolf! All his damned father cared about was‚ “good” this‚ “good” that‚ “You need to realize it can’t defend itself‚blah blah blah.” He had been getting
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It seemed like a flawless plan. Everything was set up perfectly as they headed toward the party on Route 13. They had taken every precaution necessary for a night of pure‚ unadulterated fun. Upon arrival‚ Seth and Jenna greeted their friends as they entered the room. Various beverages were freely available throughout the house. Everyone was doing it‚ so they joined in on the fun as well. Varied thoughts about the night flashed through Seth’s head here and there‚ but who was he to stop now? He asked
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Lamb to the Slaughter By: Roald Dahl THE ROOM WAS WARM and clean‚ the curtains drawn‚ the two table lamps alight hers and the one by the empty chair opposite. On the sideboard behind her‚ two tall glasses‚ soda water‚ whisky. Fresh ice cubes in the Thermos bucket. Mary Maloney was waiting for her husband to come home from work. Now and again she would glance up at the clock‚ but without anxiety‚ merely to please herself with the thought that each minute gone by made it nearer the time when he would come
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I’m submerged; submerged under the frigid water. I scan my surroundings and find an abundance of nothing. I’m stunned by the scene. The water‚ vividly clear blue‚ was motionless and breathe taking; but not a fish‚ plant or rock in site. ’How did I get here?’ I thought. Panic erupts and rises inside of me. My body acts on its owns out of fear. Immediately‚ I began swimming in hopes to escape this agony. I don’t recall how I ended up here. Actually‚ I don’t recall anything at all‚ but my name. Keith
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but somewhere in my memory‚ that is good enough for me to think about what writing‚ and being creative mean to me. It was my sophomore year of high school‚ I heard this every time I pull my agenda out and pick up my backpack‚ “they are the same people that go every time.” But before going into all the details about it‚ I think I should introduce you to my mojo in creative writing class‚ too. I think my creative writing teacher remembers me due to my opening line every time I came up to her- “Ms
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