The Trenches – WW1 I’m encapsulated in the unending nightmare of fear. The rain continues to bore on infinitely‚ pounding on the grubby ground and turning it into vast lakes of murky water. The miserable‚ grey clouds covered the sky‚ only letting a few rays of sun slip through. The monotonous sound of raindrops beating on the helmets of the soldiers thundered down like bullets. Everything was miserable‚ grey‚ and lacklustre. The thick layer of mud squelched beneath my feet as I struggled to walk
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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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“Ava‚ wake up!” My mom buoyantly nudged me awake. I peeled open my eyes‚ blinking away the tired fog‚ and glanced around. I was in the shiny‚ midnight black jeep my family was renting‚ which had become tan from being continuously splattered by sand and mud. The car was parked next to a small cottage belonging to ‚ caked in bright pink and yellow paint. Proud roosters with long‚ shiny‚ satin feathers‚ squawked noisily. Lazy goats waddled around‚ nibbling on vibrant green grass. Short trees covered
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The morning sunlight‚ slipping through a thin opening through the tent‚ reached in to tap my cheeks with a tinge of warmth. Laying on my back‚ my sleeping bag clinging tight to my Autumn chilled body‚ I began listening to the glorious melodies of the nearby river singing its way through the valley. Soon I noticed small heaps of leaves that gathered on the top of the mesh roof of my pentagonal shaped tent. Above them‚ was a spattering of leaves that had just parachuted from their trees‚ gracefully
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The days were ticking down. Halloween was now less than a week away and the need for decoration was essential. In a town named Exitium‚ about thirty minutes away from the California-Oregon border‚ Halloween was a huge thing. Every year there was a decorating contest. The winner for five years in a row was a woman named Sarah Smith. This woman had short‚ black‚ bouncy hair. She was a single mother and had a foster child‚ Harris. While Harris was at school‚ Sarah was rushing around stores and malls
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Days like this when my body craved the shore. The waves lapped against the shoreline creating an intricate pattern along the smooth‚ off white sand. The sun shone off the rippling water‚ its golden light warped and distorted in the azure‚ glassy waves. Big‚ soft‚ puffy clouds floated over the blue skies making irregular shapes. The sight of the sky gave me a warm feeling inside. My troubles‚ my worries and my concerns‚ everything was momentarily forgotten as I looked out into the swaying great Australia
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Here I was‚ the roar of the waves so loud and powerful that it could block out one’s thoughts. Faces all around me‚ a sternness visible like none other seen before. The waves crashed over the top of our landing craft‚ by now the cloth of every man was soaked through‚ but there was a bigger problem… The gunfire started‚ the cracking of gunfire that has become so normal in these times‚ the ambience that man had become used to. Is this the sound of death? Nobody spoke‚ looks of fear and agitation
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The sun was glistening on the ocean as I glided in. Thinking to myself that this was the best vacation a fourth grader could have‚ I observed the ripples as I inhaled the sweet scent of the refreshing water. Boogie board in hand‚ I swam out farther to catch a wave. Soon‚ when I had not been paying attention‚ I realized I had gone out too far. That moment was the first most panic stricken I’d ever been. Noticing the splashes of the waves more than anything‚ I never became fully aware about how far
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As I pull up the old 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
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Describe the scene at a train station It is 8 o’clock in the morning at Liverpool train station‚ the busiest hour throughout the whole day‚ it’s also known as the rush hour. Trains of all imaginable colours gradually draw to a halt‚ causing a slightly burned smell from the brakes. As the automatic doors fly open‚ continuous flows start of people shoving and pushing‚ rushing to get off into the already crowded station. The noise of the tannoy is hidden beneath the murmur of the crowds of people
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