"Creative writing on refugee" Essays and Research Papers

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    Dance Creative Writing

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    I walk around the dance floor awkwardly‚ looking for groups of people that I know well enough to be able to go and stand with and pretend like I’m part of whatever mind-numbing conversation they’re having. I check my watch for the fifth time in ten minutes‚ which is making time go even slower. It’s 8:50 I made the rule for myself to drop my first at 9 so I wouldn’t have to take the next until midnight. “Ten minute’s” I thought to myself “Stuff it”. I pulled out my wallet and reached my index finger

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    Creative Writing: Genocide

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    Exiting onto the unpleasant frigid city walkways of Oslo‚ Norway in the early winter morning of the Walk. The wind was blowing over the rough scene of the rural city. He is pacing down the bustling roads and pondering which foot will come next. "Left‚ Right‚ Left‚ Right‚ Right‚ Left. No‚ no‚ that can’t be correct." He murmured under his chilling breath. He slipped on the newly solidified walkways‚ he stood up and glanced around‚ feeling humiliated… he saw nobody‚ heard nothing‚ it was as peaceful

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    Creative Writing: Silence

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    There is silence. Silence everywhere‚ such silence that the soft sounds created by swift movements happening around me are amplified. The water droplets explode into tiny particles as they hit my hot skin and flow down my body and you can even hear the water gushing into the drain. Correction: swirling into the drain. Gushing has negative connotations‚ but swirling has an optimistic twist to it. I look down and open my eyes‚ allowing the water to pour over my head down to my face. All I can see

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    A slight breeze blew throughout the dandy forest‚ swaying the stiff lifeless trees and blowing the black stained leaves across my bare white feet. As I stumbled across the dead landscape‚ a slight fog swam around blending in with the increasingly falling snow. Hundreds of dark wood surrounding me seemed to slowly cave in‚ creating a narrow cave-like passage. An eerie feeling swept over me‚ and I stopped completely‚ analysing every detail around me. The smog became thicker‚ blinding the scenery and

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    Menu for Creative Writing

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    The smell of the sea was an overbearing smell that grows on you after awhile. The same was not for the smell of the fish my cooks were preparing. I am a huge fan of fish. I love seeing the way cooks can prepare different types of fish such as: salmon‚ crab‚ lobster‚ clams‚ oysters‚ calamari‚ alligator‚ shark and so on. Once these glorious fish or sea urchins are cooked it’s a whole different story. The aroma is addicting and something that you never forget. You may be wandering why I am talking

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    A family as dysfunctional as ours‚ you must understand why being so different is so hard. Having a twin brother who is the perception of a golden child‚ and a sister‚ who is probably going to be the next Miss America‚ really makes you stand out as the ‘other’ sibling. I obviously lack the physical genetics which my brother and sister gained to my disadvantage. Being in my family is hard; not knowing which snide remark would come next towards my supposed unworthiness to sit at golden table for dinner

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    Bright‚ blood red colours saturated the makeshift tent‚ signalling the arrival of a new year. Red papers rustled in the breeze. Inscribed on them were golden characters each indicating happiness‚ health and prosperity. Red flowers bloomed in their various places around the tent. Bodies piled in ecstatically‚ one after another‚ sniffing‚ as they entered‚ the heavenly aroma of the vast array of foods present. Greetings were exchanged. So was money‚ which remained silent in the red packets they were

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    Don´t cut on the lights My nose was filled with the scent of old people and medicine as I roamed the hospital halls. I was searching for my brother. I looked around the long narrow hallway trying to find my brother’s room. I looked into the room closest to to me. I grabbed the paper file beside the door and opened it. “Nope not his.” I stated. I went to another door. There was no file. The room must have been empty. I had checked a few more rooms in this hallway. “If he’s not in this hallway‚ he

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    I pulled the trigger. Bang‚ bang‚ bang. Two shots for each police officer that stood before me. I wasn’t high. I wasn’t drunk. And I definitely wasn’t crazy… “I guess the reason I shot them is because I felt trapped. At least that’s the reason I keep telling myself.” “So that’s the reason”‚ said the lawyer. “I guess. I mean‚ I don’t really have a reason. I just did it.” “Did you know who the officers were?” “No‚ sir. All I truly know is that I killed them‚ which makes me the murderer. I have

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    The Ghouls Pt. 2 The next second she blinked‚ and her face cleared. Mimi nodded to confirm her answer. “Yes‚ but let’s hurry up‚” she urged. Steve and Mimi dashed through the cemetery gates together‚ leaving the rusty hinges creaking and swinging behind them. The ground was lined with brittle gravel that crunched beneath their feet with every step. For a while‚ there was no other sound. “What’s that on the left?” Mimi questioned. “There’s a faint glow coming from behind that tree.” Her face

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