Creative Writing Task PROMPT: “I felt expelled and exiled” I felt expelled and exiled as they just left me there on the footpath in the chilling darkness of a Saturday night. “Get out of the car; we don’t want to be seen with you!” I can still hear those spiteful words playing over and over again in the back of my mind as I continue walking along the footpath of this unfamiliar suburb. I am completely alone with only my thoughts and the echo of my footsteps in the empty street. Upon hearing a
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Creative Writing: Letter to Principal Dear Mr.Johnson‚ This Letter is on the issue of closed campus‚ in my opinion this should not even be an issue. Haslett High Scholl students should be able to go out during lunch‚ we have a right to choose what we pay for and we have the right to seek a comfortable environment. I have very strong reasons to back up my opinion. If I want to not wait in line for at least five to eight minutes for food I must skip the trip to my locker and lag around a heavy
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Creative Writing: X-Men Zach Dotsey English 101 Section 30 12 December‚ 1996 When many people hear about the X-Men‚ they think of a silly kid’s comic book‚ but that is not so. X-Men‚ actually most comic books in general‚ are a unique blend of two classic art forms; drawings‚ sometimes even paintings‚ and storytelling. A comic artist must be able to convey the right mood and feeling for his or her art. They must also be able to fluidly tell a story and fit it all in the allotted number
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I first saw Bron J. when I got transferred to a new school called Preston High school couple of years ago. My parents moved to a new town and I had to go with them even though it was the last thing on my mind at that time‚ I was very upset and it seemed that the world came to an end without all my friends specially my best friends and without all of the girls I used to chat with. I was very nervous about my new school because it wasn’t ordinary school compared to my old school which was better.
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“ You piece of sh*t” Was the first thing I heard as I entered Lemon’s Diner snatching a black waist apron from the makeshift hook which was basically a nail. Everyone in the diner turned‚ looking at the rather recent and ongoing incident happening at Table 10. I glanced at the girl‚ who was fuming with rage‚ as she screamed all the cuss words you could possible think of to the boy sitting in front of her. He trembled with fear‚ while simultaneously quietly whispering for her to “calm down”. Which
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Creative Writing: Unexpected Horizons Wow! I love going deep sea fishing on our boat. I was excited when my dad had asked me if I wanted to go this weekend. We departed that Saturday morning after almost a week of sheer anticipation‚ our destination‚ Port Canaveral‚ home of of some of the best fishing on the east coast of Florida. The sea is a very dangerous place when riled by a storm‚ even a mild one‚ so we always made sure the day would be at least close to perfect before we ventured out
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In the fall that I turned fourteen years old‚ a deep depression crept over me like a fog. I would have expected it to come crashing in like a bolt of lightning‚ but it appeared so quietly and gently‚ settling on top of everything. If it hadn’t been for the ache in my bones and the dullness in my mind‚ it could have come by entirely unnoticed. I spent that year like a ghost‚ wandering the hallways of my home at night. When all became quiet‚ I would arise from the dead. My feet moved softly on the
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"Now Dalton‚" The military commander said I know you want to be in son‚ but I can not have you join the military in this condition." "Come on commander‚ I have been trying to get a job and I’ve really work hard for this‚" Dalton replied. "I’m sorry Dalton‚ but until you become strong like our men‚ we will not assign you to the military‚" the commander explained. "But-" Dalton said sobbing inside for not saying it. "No buts‚" said the commander. As Dalton walked away he felt like he was pushed
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strain. He could hear his wife sniffling softly‚ wiping her face with the edge of her nightgown. He tentatively reached over to reassure her‚ but her trance seemed to be broken by his movement. “WHY?” she shouted‚ still in hysterics over the incident. “That was our son! How could you?” There was no reply from her confounded husband. Suddenly‚ through her tears‚ she glimpsed the monkey’s paw still clutched in his hand. “Give me the paw‚” she whispered‚ begging for sympathy. “I know how to
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Creative Writing: My Summer Off Memory can be so fickle. Like some great book that is slowly loosing its pages‚ you begin with an entire novel full of details and descriptions and‚ if you’re not careful‚ you end up with nothing more than the cover and the brief synopsis on the back page. My novel on the subject of the end of summer school debate has lost its share of pages but the back-cover synopsis‚ the essence of the entire experience‚ is still with me. "We are about to begin our annual
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