Com-101-024 February 24‚ 2013 The smell of molding laundry always filled the air at my cousin Rachel’s old Blue Island house. As we walked down the dark‚ narrow‚ creaking stairs‚ we all knew weren’t allowed down there but we somehow always stumbled down into the basement where my much older cousin Joey’s room and hang out 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
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“Shut-up you idiot! Why the hell am I still with you Ben?” Snow barked‚ her voice pierces through the air. I left my girlfriend and headed for the car without a word‚ the echo of each step I make towards the doors that lead outside resonate inside my head as if the sound was mocking my emptiness. Even as I closed the door‚ she could still be heard swearing and throwing mess around. I’m sick of fighting with her every second of the day‚ but the thought of Snow leaving‚ well it just tears me in two
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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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The‚ enclosed‚ beach is silent. The bright ball blinds you as it emerges; it rises like a yellow lollipop on the distant horizon. Crashing against the shore‚ small waves wash the night’s debris onto the land. Untouched golden sand covers the floor as far as your eyes can see. Soothing‚ a gentle sea breeze rustles through your hair. Beach shops prepare for their day of excited costumers bustling in and out of their small seafront shops. Opening their doors‚ they bring out all of there beach products
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When I finally arrived at one of the camps later that night‚ I gratefully sat down on a fallen log that had been pushed around the fire and 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
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The crowd started to clap. I started to walk up the bleachers then it all happened. Fast‚ sharp‚ and quick it was. Then I felt it in my cheeks and I started to blush. Next I felt it in my stomach.Those butterflies had come. Everyone trying to look‚ trying to look for the boy who fell behind the bleachers‚ the boy who knocked down the backdrop. It all started at Providence Elementary’s Winter Concert. It took place at Kempsville Middle‚ home of the Chiefs. The classes were getting ready for our songs
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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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As a young girl‚ I experienced what at the time I thought was the end of the world. Yes‚ I was a little bit of a drama queen. At the age of eleven‚ and on my way to a ballet recital a woman who was careless pulled under an awning in a non-parking zone in front of The Girls Club. I was running to catch up with my group. I looked left and right and proceeded to walk under the awing to the parking lot across from the building. From the corner of my eye’s I saw a white car pull up in front of me very
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Black Dog is based off of a stream of concious I did in February during one of my many routine walks through a cemetery near my house. It was night time‚ and everything was cold and damp. But the moon made this atmosphere that I just loved that I had to write about it. It should also be noted that it was around valentine’s day and I was thinking about my “perfect” mate (don’t judge me‚ you’ve done that before) This piece is also about on how I would be a “perfect” mate‚ and how I would have to change
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As I wake up lying in my bed doused in sweat from the nightmare I just had‚The same Nightmare that I have every night the last thing I ever saw. The accident. Before the accident I was a normal kid no scars‚ no getting made fun of and certainly wasn’t blind. I didn’t want another day of getting made fun of just because I was different. Still I got out of my sweat drenched bed and got ready for another day of dread. I barely made it to the bus and I sat in the first seat I found with nobody in it
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