Creative Writing R.I.P Rory His room decorated with graphs‚ tags and throws. The floor hidden beneath paint covered clothes scattered everywhere‚ aerosol cans and paper covered in his new tag that he has been practicing. He puts on his pitch black hoodie. The hood hides every detail of his face keeping his identity masked. Throwing his blood red bandana and his spray paint cans stone cold from the paint concealed inside into his bag he is ready to burst out and create a masterpiece. As he emerges
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“Isipin mo na lang best friend mo ko.” This is the text message I received from her which started it all. These words gave me the privilege to call Mikee “bes” and have her as my one and true best friend. Best friends are the best when it comes to being an inspiration for improving oneself for the better. This is what Mikee made me realize. Although we’ve just been best friends for quite a short time‚ she already influenced me with her unique attitudes and characteristics. She’s one of the main
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Creative Writing My breath steamed the air‚ my eyes wide open looking into the distance as drips of sweat rolled down my forehead. My ears twitched at every sudden noise; I just hoped nothing would jump out of the darkness. I kept thinking about where I was and how I got to this place. Every footstep echoed for miles as I stepped upon the Iron Gate‚ the noise rattling my brain. I came to a halt‚ my sweaty hand roaming over the freezing cold steal on my chest as I tightened my only protection
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Re-creations ESSAY PLAN A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM * descriptive piece on how I envisage my MSND‚ takes place in an arboretum‚ been there before several times‚ tranquil‚ beautiful‚ magical‚ mysterious‚ near a small village behind local pub‚ old church opposite‚ pub was once a nunnery in 16th C‚ joined to church by underground passage‚ nun attended trees‚ honesty box * my dream‚ walk towards shallow pond‚ barefoot‚ warm day‚ ot sweaty or overheating‚ long golden hair‚ nude but not exposed
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Five syllables. One word. A million sparks of energy surge through my body sending my every nerve into a hypnotic awe. It was as though you were falling in a dream and being kicked out of it. A moment of realisation… this must be just a dream‚ and for that reason alone I refuse to let it sink into my conscience. The world will remain a tone‚ a sound wave having happened to penetrate through my very existence‚ bouncing off the walls of my ears. Those alike to me filled their faces with confusion; a hidden
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through the entrance when my friend suggests that it’s not a very good idea‚ but I shrug and say what could possibly happen besides being scared half to death. We enter. It’s dark‚ the walls feel close‚ there’s an awful smell to the place‚ as if someone has died inside. I feel nervous because I don’t know what’s coming in the distance‚ and I have what feels like a hundred butterflies flying around in my stomach. I can feel the hairs on my arms and on the back of my neck beginning to rise. I
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bakery’s fulfilling aroma at the end of their neighborhood. As they passed she saw a line already beginning to snake through the store and out the door. What a treat that would be at the moment! As they arrived to the salon‚ she saw all of her friends already waiting to be helped. Nails were being done‚ hair being curled‚ and giggles filled her ears. Everyone was ecstatic for the big day‚ and they all had their own thing that they were looking forward to. Aerosol and nail polish trickled into
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crazy because she laughed all the time and Mira was crazy because she was an Asian and wasn’t smart. They became friends in middle school when they read The Adventure of Tom Sawyer to each other in English class. What weirdos. Mira is also crazy because she can’t spell the word weird and she is a freshman. One day Shelby and Mira were walking down the hall with their awesome friend Kristyn when something crazy happened. Chase walked up to Shelby and then Shelby laughed her crazy laugh and screamed
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year‚ I decided to go to Simla‚ a hill-station in Himachal Pradesh‚ to see my uncle. My uncle owns a chemist shop in Simla. I packed up my luggage and went to the New Delhi Railway Station in a taxi. I reached the Railway Station half an hour before the start of the train. There was a long queue at the railway booking office. I was able to purchase a ticket for Simla with great difficulty. I engaged a coolie to carry my luggage and went to Platform No. 3. There was a great rush at this platform
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People think I’m crazy because I see lights. I’ve seen them all my life. Strange‚ multicoloured patches of light swirling through the air. The patches are different sizes‚ some as small as a coin‚ others as big as a cereal box. All sorts of shapes - octagons‚ triangles‚ decagons. Some have thirty or forty sides. I don’t know the name for a forty-sided shape. Quadradecagon? No circles. All of the patches have at least two straight edges. There are a few with curves or semi-circular bulges‚ but
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