The First and the Last Visit To Cedar Crest Drive There is a full moon. It is pitch black and raining outside. As I lookdown the street I can see the fog setting only feet away from me. It is on this evening when my curiosity gets the best of me. I want to know why my mother never allowed me to go down Cedar Crest Drive. I’ve heard many stories about a haunted house down there. The stories‚ however‚ have varied. I heard somebody had been gruesomely murdered in there. I also
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Sitting at my desk at home‚ a crushing feeling crept up on me. I didn’t know what to think. I’m not going to make it‚ am I. It was already midway through junior year of high school‚ and having just calculated my GPA requirements for many of the colleges I had wanted to go to‚ I realized that my grades were not even close to what I expected them to be. I guess I had been in denial for so long that I let them slip this far. How could I have let this happen? Where was my mind when I needed to study
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ENG 3U October 5th‚ 2012 The Warzone The Warzone Eerily‚ rays of light begin to flow through the windows‚ illuminating the close tables and floor. The air is frigid and crisp. This early‚ there are few scents remaining; all that is left‚ is from from the previous days battles. The frozen air is empty. Silence has fallen upon the desolate opening. Eventually‚ the outside doors begin to open and shut. Lunch ladies rushing in‚ preparing themselves and their positions. As they initiate their daily duties
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Miranda Poole 2/3/13 English 101 Descriptive Essay The Beach: A Relaxing Wonderland It is spring break‚ in the middle of March‚ my junior year. As I cross the state line into Florida‚ I picture the ocean as being a place of peace and serenity. It’s my first time visiting the ocean‚ and all I can think about is hoping it is as beautiful as the pictures I have seen of it. As I arrive to the beach with all my friends‚ the eagerness of seeing this peaceful place is rising. I can’t wait to smell
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Childhood Memories Can Be Positive Reinforcement My favorite childhood place was at my grandparent’s house. My grandparent’s last name was Mountain. Their property had the nick name‚ “The Mountain House‚” I remember wonderful memories of spending time there with my family; eating grandma’s famous potato salad‚ tasting grandpa’s fabulous barbeque ribs‚ and most of all eating those wonderful Mountain family cherries. The sounds and smells are truly alive in my memory. These memories are incredibly
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My Quiet Place After a year of living in our small two bedroom house we decided that we needed to add another bedroom. We had made all the decisions of what we wanted it to look like such as the size of the room‚ the size of the closet and what we what kind of mood the atmosphere would give us. I wanted the room to feel welcoming‚ warm and cozy‚ like sitting next to a warm fireplace on a cold snowy night. I wanted to call this room my quiet space where I can relax‚ read‚ and be big enough
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Destination Homebound Waking up‚ I feel the burning sensation of what feels like fine needles pricking at my eyeballs. I blink them a couple more times before hitting the snooze button on my loud horn shrieking alarm clock. As I lay my head back down to get just ten more minutes‚ a fuzzy feeling tickles my stomach. The excitement of me going home today to see my family races through my head‚ along with that‚ the slight twinge of a headache from the lack of sleep counteracts that feeling. I’m tired
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A late December night Like many other nights; it is late and I am tired‚ leaving the bar after my shift and driving home. It must be close to 4o’clock in the morning now; the roads are covered in snow like a cozy white blanket on a cold black night. I seem to be alone on this two lane highway; my headlights are the only ones shining‚ like two beckons in a lighthouse searching for others in the dark. The roads have just been plowed‚ very little is on the pavement but the snow is falling fast‚ within
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The Beautiful Creation The sun’s radiant light covers the Earth and penetrates through the orange sky. Its reflection on the still water is an image of God’s most beautiful painting. I stand along the shore and gaze upon a magnificent scenery as the cool water washes the sand off of my feet. A breeze blows across my face and comforts my soul as it relieves my troubles and pain. The tranquility of a setting sun has shown me a glimpse of heaven‚ and the sound of waves pressing against the sand makes
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My Great-Grandparent’s Farm My Great-Grandparent’s farm is tucked away in the rural village of Mt. Calvary‚ Wisconsin. Mt. Calvary is a small densely populated village consisting of primarily dairy farmers of German Catholic decent‚ that lies in the vast rolling green hills of South-East Wisconsin. My Great-Grandparent’s farm has always been a very special place. It is also a place to go to find peace and serenity when life is overwhelming and hectic. My Great-Grandfather hand built the
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