I was thinking about whether my mom would let me get this toy. When she said no‚ I thought she was mad at me or I thought she thought it was too expensive. Did she think I didn’t deserve it because I was doing bad at school? Did my dad say no too? Before I could think of more‚ my mom shook my a little bit and said “I’m sorry Alex”. I felt my feet scrunch up beneath me and saw my mom’s blank face which made me wonder if she did not care that I was mad and pouting that I didn’t get a toy. So I opened
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ice water envelopes my body as I dive into the pool. I open my eyes and wait for them to focus in my new environment. As I come up for air‚ I smell the strong scent of chlorine around me. As I begin my first set of laps‚ water rushes into my mouth as I come up for air‚ the taste of chlorine is soon stuck in my mouth. Half way through my second lap‚ I hear the sounds of splashing and what sounds like cannonballs as people begin to dive into the pool. As I come up for air‚ I feel my arms weakening from
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have drifted into my vision and blinded me‚ forcing me to rely on my other senses. I listen‚ open up my ears to the world‚ but hear nothing except the occasional thud of heavy‚ ghost-like footsteps off in the distance. And then it is quiet‚ everything goes quiet‚ like all sound has been voided out of my ears‚ gone forever‚ leaving me trapped inside a prison that I don’t know how to escape. Suddenly‚ I feel the pounding in my head‚ a sharp‚ shooting pain‚ that won’t go away. My lungs feel like
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A rush of crisp morning air-filled my lungs as I inhaled. Roaring water attacking the banks of the river captivated my eyes. 8 o’clock‚ the perfect time to be kayaking because the water still resembled glass displaying white sand littered with seashells and the natural soothing breeze relaxes my unusually tense body. Even the scenery is perfect at this time because the sun gives the colored tear shaped leaves a warm glow. Everything about kayaking is perfect‚ except for one thing…spiders. The
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degraded driveway‚ the old‚ abandoned asylum stands in front of me. I stop my car and take a deep breath before getting out. I slide out of the car‚ and walk up to the large wooden pine door. I take another deep breath‚ looking for fresh air‚ but the musty odor of the decaying asylum suffocates me. My heart is pounding in my chest as I place my hands on the door‚ waiting to push it open. The old door feels rough under my soft hands. As I tough the door‚ I imagine all of the patients that had once
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Naturally by this time my aching loneliness glides in like an empty cloud drifting afar in the dead of night. All presence of faith deserted long before the scorching sun inhaled its last breath‚ in order for the moon to be reborn. Yet unmistakably it’ll only be the sun welcoming my dispirited morning as any glimpse of faith is hushed by my heavy thoughts‚ which deeply desire to remain firmly rooted in my mascara stained pillow. A reminder of the all the endless nights I overfilled with enough tears
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achieved my three minutes of fame. As I grew up‚ a major part of my life revolved around basketball. Countless hours spent at the gym with my family molded my love for the sport. We spent hours chasing one another up and down the court‚ the competitive spirit never fading. My step-father had one rule. Before any of us could leave the premises‚ fifteen free throws
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One hour‚ 60 minutes or 3600 seconds was all it took. All it took for reality to become meaningless. As I lay here‚ I can taste blood in my mouth: hot‚ wet and metallic. I can feel the forever expanding pool or crimson blood cascading from my partially severed body. My nostrils are filled with the smell of gnarled fabric and the acrid scent of roasting rubber. Silence. It drowns me‚ it pulls and tugs and screams a thousand words never to be heard. Nothingness. 3600 seconds earlier. In an infinite
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familiar feeling of anxiety drip down my spine‚ feeling the outside world getting larger‚ and myself getting smaller. I shake it off as I begin to turn and enter the dressing room door. When I enter I am welcomed by my family‚ who have been waiting to congratulate me on my first show. My eyes analyze them in order across the room. My mother‚ who used to always sing me songs when I was a child‚ not being the most excellent at it‚ but always able to make me fall asleep. My brother‚ who had an odd and troubled
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Accessorize with a Meaning It takes up about two inches on my thick‚ and short middle finger. It is relatively small‚ yet has been proven to have great importance and meaning. This dented‚ imperfect circle fits loosely‚ and comfortably which allows for the constant usage and handling. It has a unique‚ and undefined shape that compliments the small circles within the accessory. There is a band of a perfect line of small circles that runs infinite in the exact middle of the accessory. The thirteen
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