I awoke that day to the sounds of men yelling and whips cracking‚ people screaming and chains rattling. I had no idea where I was. Though I had a splitting headache‚ I could tell I was moving‚ on something like a stretcher. I opened my eyes slightly‚ and saw that I was being carried by some men who appeared to be Fulani‚ along some sort of beach. I assumed I was on the coast‚ for when I glanced toward the sea it appeared to go on until it met the horizon. After understanding where I likely was
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I peered down at the several plastic bags that I was holding; full of the essential shopping that I had gone out to get last minute for dinner. One of the bags (the one that was hurting my wrists) was clearly overfilled‚ but I couldn’t do anything about that‚ not now‚ in the middle of the street. Letting out a heavy sigh‚ I carried on walking‚ reaching carelessly into my pocket to clasp my phone. In the humidity‚ it felt lovely to have the cold‚ metal block against my hands. I pulled it out‚ feeling
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huge‚ wiry man dressed in a tan leather jacket‚ a white shirt with some strange dark splattering on it‚ and jeans‚ who had definitely not been there a few seconds ago‚ stared down at me. His large eyes were green and bloodshot; they had a crazy look about them. I recognized him as the man who had entered after the other boy into the alley. “The letter. Give it to me‚” he rasped. His rank breath hit me as he spoke the words‚ “You have no idea what that is.”
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“Bro these guys are huge! We are about to get beat so bad. And look how fast they are.” Austin Blake was usually never intimidated. As the captain of the defense he was generally so stoic you would have thought there was no one he couldn’t beat. His attitude always inspired confidence and tenacity in us. He was our fearless leader. But today it seemed as if his lack of confidence was just a foreshadowing of yet another total mental and physical collapse of a team in the face of Westwood High school
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gulped in some much needed air. The camp was just a small clearing off the road. A fire pit sat in the middle with about ten logs around it. There were no tents or signs of shelter aside from a couple of low hanging branches that could provide some protection from a light rain or a particularly bright sun. A thin river ran at the far end of the camp‚ which was a small incline about ten feet deep with a couple of willows and an assortment of other trees that benefit from the running water. I took
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was. He was rarely home when my sister Haley and I slept over‚ so all three of us would rummage through his things. We were always told not to even come close to touching his band equipment but we never really listened to that. We later found out about a man named Tony Lovato‚ my cousin’s semi-good friend with whom he jammed out with every once in a while. Many know of this man as the lead singer to the band Mest‚
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we watched our house become nothing by the destruction of the tractor‚ I watched all the happy memories fade away. I cried for weeks and weeks‚ not realizing that all that time I could help repair and not destroy our family. I wasn’t even thinking about other families‚ just myself. I knew that was selfish‚ but I was only a child. There were probably a bunch of people that passed away and I was crying because I didn’t have a home. What if my brother was still in the bathroom and he could have died
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The sun shone down brightly as Tyler and Zoe pulled into the parking lot. Its bright rays reflected by the white snow covering the trees around them. The sound of their doors opening and closing scared the few birds left in the forest. Their speedy escape shook the tree limbs. Their rustling mixed with the flapping of wings created a torrent of sound in this peaceful place. “It looks amazing‚” Zoe’s voice sounded harsh to Tyler. The last few miles of the ride they had been in near silence.
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As rain poured down in thick blankets over Lazy Town‚ faint‚ muffled breaths could be heard from deep within the lair of none of other than the owner himself‚ Robbie Rotten. His plump‚ rosebud like lips rested half an inch apart to allow air in and out while he slept‚ giving him the most kissable look in the entire world. Not to mention the small strand of saliva slowly rolling it’s way down Robbie’s cheek onto the presumably silk covered pillows (only the best kind of fabrics for the number one
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Teaching a Descriptive Writing Gender: Grade :5 Date:25.Nov.2013 Time:45 minutes General Goal(s): ◆ students will learn the elements of descriptive writing. ◆They will understand the parts of a descriptive paragraph ◆will be able to generate a descriptive paragraph. Teacher Instructions Objectives: ◆ Students will identify the elements of descriptive writing. ◆ Students will write to describe using all five senses. Outcomes: At the end of class student are expected to be able
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