This is a story about loss‚ about being different‚ and about the world’s many evils. This story will fable heroes who learn to summon unwavering courage in times of unimaginable adversity. This is a story about sacrifice and the willingness to oppose bitterness and hatred in honor of the greater good. This story will highlight the devastation that corrupt governments leave in their wake. The characters in this story will undergo tests‚ trials‚ and imperfections that may seem large scale‚ but ultimately
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HSC STUDY BUDDY Belonging Creative Writing Perfection?/Perfect Chaos. The steel door slid closed behind Jian with a quiet susurration‚ sealing the room with a series of soft mechanical clicks. The hideous moans of the Misbegotten that perpetually polluted the air faded. He was swallowed by sanctified
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BAM! The crowd roared after I did this‚ I just hit my first single of my career‚ and not the only time I will get another one. It felt musky while I hit it‚ and it was beginning to get cloudy in the distance as well. My friends Trevor‚ Collin‚ Evan‚ Andrew‚ and Michael congratulated me once I got into the dug-out. At the time I was only seven years old. I always remind myself that I have to work for things in order to accomplish things. I was mesmerized that I actually hit it‚ at first I just tried
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Winchell nervously looks at the clock on the wall‚ which is directly in front of him‚ peers through the glass panel at his left into the engineer´s booth‚ and then glances around the room. It is thirty seconds to nine. A studio visitor‚ seated in one of the four chairs alongside the wall‚ coughs‚ and Winchell looks up anxiously‚ He reaches for the water pitcher‚ fills a paper cup‚ and takes a quick swallow. The buzzer sounds on the keyboard in front of the announcer as the engineer signals fifteen
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doesn’t speak much. I catch his eye and smile politely. He smiles back....an embarrassed/ uncomfortable smile. He’s about to insert needles into my ankle. I sit up‚ facing him. My legs‚ together‚ dangle off the edge of the table. I’m wearing blue shorts. I place my hands on either knee and slowly move my legs apart‚ looking downward with no expression the whole time. Although his eyes widen a little‚ he only looks at me. He moves back one step. With my hands still on either knee‚ I smile at him.
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the ground‚’ Nero observes to SH as they are being bundled ever further down a winding tunnel. From somewhere the MC’s voice‚ ‘Look‚ we wanted some razz-matazz out there tonight‚ but things are not really working out. You’ve at least discovered that Story Hunter is not dead meat.’ With frustration shining through in voice SH complains‚ ‘Yeah‚ it is all well and good to have found me‚ but now we have lost Buiteboer to the netherworld‚ it seems.’ The MC sounds unconcerned about Buiteboer’s whereabouts
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pinkish-red one said calmly. “A bear?!” the tall‚ thin one and short round purple gems shouted in unison. “What if it hurts us? What if it hurts Steven?!” the thin one shouted back. Again with the steven? Whats up with him? Is he special or something? Soda thought. The branch that soda was on started to crack more. She tried with all her might to not let it fall‚ she even used her powers to attempt to hold it up; but alas‚ her trying cut short‚ and she fell to the ground. Fast. “ACK!” The blue gem shouted
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They were not criminals and if they signed the paperwork they were agreeing to be just that. Mother refused to sign as a show of dignity and pride. These attributes are nonmaterial things that the guards could not take away from Lina’s mother. This story is about compassion‚ determination‚ love‚ hope‚ and miracles. I chose compassion because of the shocking ending in which the guard is the one that really helps the prisoners to survive. Even in the face of total hopelessness‚ there are people who still
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Five Somebody told me before that when you feel almost nothing at all‚ only plain unhappiness‚ then just die. You always want to find an explanation for feeling so empty‚ but what was that for? Nothing. If you feel that way‚ then that’s depression‚ and I’m telling you‚ that thing kills every part of you. Well‚ at least‚ that’s what it does to me. Dr. Marie once said that she knew everything about my condition and she’s dead wrong; I know myself more than everybody does. After that check-up‚ I
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to the racist nature of the Europeans who colonized Canada. The main character in the story‚ Big Tom‚ appears physically and mentally worn out by his life. At the beginning of the story‚ the reader gets a sense of bitterness with how he perceives his life. Despite living in poverty‚ he appears to be a caring father. The reader senses Big Tom grappling with his Native identity when he tells his infant son a story: “his voice slid awkwardly through the ageless folktale of his people”. It is as if Big
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