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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Ah summer 93’. My older brother and I were getting home from a Grateful Dead show. That’s me wearing the t-shirt turban. I had just finished being the bottom half of a human totem pole somewhere between a stoned man’s greased dungarees and a roach littered general admission mud pit. You can tell I was feeling good about it. Some say smoking that many blunts out in the open as a five year old could have serious repercussions for my irresponsible copulaters back home‚ but if my parents taught me anything
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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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Writing Development-Reflection Essay It takes a lot of time and practice to improve writing skills and develop thoughts. I am currently in the period where my writing skills are developing. For me writing means practice‚ practice‚ and more practice; just how I had mentioned in my First-Week Essay. I have to take baby steps while writing because it is too hard for me to try and perfect all areas of writing at one time. At school students are not taught a whole months worth of information in a couple
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Belonging Creative Writing Another contraction wracked my body‚ with a gush of liquid following. The unbearable pain I was experiencing and the urge to push grew stronger! As I was pulled onto the hospital bed the pain was excruciating and the paramedics rushed me into a delivery room. “Rosie‚ it’s time to push. When the next contraction hits‚ you are going to have to make the most of it‚” the doctor informed me but all I could do was nod. “One’s coming!” I screamed as the pain surged through
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The Yellow Wall-Paper Alternate Ending Where my story is starting: “Why there’s John at the Door” I am banging on the door‚ begging her to come out. What has happened? Why’s the door locked? Is she okay? What’s going on? Perhaps I can break the door. The sweat dripped into my eyes as I heard her say “John dear! The key is under the front steps‚ under a plaintain leaf!” My eyes dart to the leaf. Is she lying? Why would the key be there? I can’t make myself leave. I am begging her to open the door
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Creative Writing Process Piece Reflectio The piece that I choose to display the creative writing process was my Eleven remodel called‚ Eighteen going on Four.This was a remodel from Sandra Cisneros’s piece Eleven. She displayed such an abundant amount of emotions in her piece which is something that I aspired in my own piece.At first I was very hesitant about using another writer’s piece of model after my own‚ it almost felt like cheating. Of course I love to use other’s writing to inspire me but
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In this course‚ my ability to write has widely changed. I feel that I have become a better writer overall. As my writing skills advanced throughout this course‚ I have realized that it will help me in the future. By analyzing my progress as a writer‚ I will be able to discuss what I learned about myself as a writer‚ how I greatly improved‚ and how I developed my own style of writing through the use of different assignments that are presented in my portfolio. Throughout this course‚ I have learned
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