The Girl Who Killed-Personal Narrative

The Girl Who Killed-Personal Narrative
I had to do what I had to. I stood over his butchered body waiting patiently for him to take his last
breath. When he did, my body involuntarily fell to the ground. The hammer I used as my weapon of
choice, the closet thing I could grab after freeing myself from the cage that held me captive since
my abduction, hit the ground in unison with my exhausted body. I removed my blindfold, whipped
his blood and flesh from my forehead and stood over the lifeless man who stole my most precious
gift repeatedly. I never actually saw how he look because of the blindfold he kept on my eyes. I'd
see a silhouette of a man about five feet tall often use the phone. He only spoke in Russian so I
never knew what he was talking about. I never touched him because my hands were always tied
with twine so tight it left permanent marks on my wrist. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Overwhelmed with disgust I couldn't bear to look at him. Instead I rushed to the phone, somehow I
found strength enough to do so, and I called 911. No I'm here in this hospital bed and that's all I
remember. "Do you remember how u got abducted"? The detective asked me. I stared into his eyes
and muttered "no" as the nurse to my left changed the needle in my arm that was supplying me with
liquids. "I told you all I remembered". At that moment my mother and father rushed in pushing
straight pass the detective to my bedside. They both hugged me as tight as possible. "Not too tight,
shes still a little weak" the nurse said. The look my mother gave was enough of a signal to let the
nurse know it would be in her best interest to leave and leave
... Get more on HelpWriting.net ...

How I Changed My Life
Every person who comes into your life, comes into your life for a reason. But some people come
into your life and have no impact on it; and then there's other people who come into your life and
change it forever. That one person can change your life by doing something small like teaching you
how to cook or they can do something even grander such as teaching you the real meaning of
friendship. That one person who had a major impact on my life was my Aunt Sylvania.
She was more than an aunt to me, she was like one of my best friends. She was a very fun and
loving person who could always pick you up when you're feeling down. She was also a person who
I knew I could talk to about any and everything. Whenever I was feeling sad, happy, or even nervous
I knew that she would be there. I would even go as far as calling her my protector because whenever
I'd be about to get in trouble she would step in and save me. So, when she died it was like the whole
world crashed on top of my head.
My aunt had been battling throat cancer for a few months before she died. When I first found out
that she had cancer, I was in denial. The day I found out I had just came home from spending the
weekend by my friend's house. When I walked into the living room, I could tell my mom was crying
because she quickly tried to dry her eyes before I realized she was crying. But, it was too late I had
already seen her crying. "What's wrong with you?" I asked. "Come sit down, I got something to tell
you," she

The Last Morning Of My Honeymoon
The last morning of our honeymoon, I rolled over in our bed, my hand flopping into the warm shaft
of light splayed across the sheets. I opened my eyes and looked at the ring that now adorned my
hand and smiled. One more thing needed to be done before my happily ever after would be
complete. "Of course it's what I want," Garrett answered, his steady and sure voice coming clear
through the dark. "But you're worried about it. I can feel it." I chewed my lip, glad for the darkness
that he couldn't see me, even if he knew me so well that he could feel my emotions before I
displayed them. "Are you worried that I won't be able to?" he asked, voicing my fear. "Yeah," my
voice shook with the beginning of the truth. "Why wouldn't I be able to?" "What if her father wants
her?" "He's had four years to say so and hasn't. Unless..." I felt the mattress shift with his body as he
turned towards me. Thank goodness for the dark again so he couldn't see the shame that distorted
my face. "He doesn't know, does he. Mikayla's father doesn't know about her," he said calmly into
the suddenly still air. "No, he doesn't, and in all honesty, I'm not exactly sure who I would tell." The
confession hung in the air between us. I could feel him breathing it in, processing it, changing what
he thinks and feels about me. "I know. I'm your wife. We should have had this conversation long
before now, but I couldn't. I'm sorry." He remained silent and each second that was quiet between us,
my heart thumped

Moldavite Pendant Research Paper
The Log Bench "What I need," I told myself, "is to take the dogs for a walk. Maybe then I'll
remember. Two weeks I'd spent looking for my grandmother's Moldavite pendant. I'd been going
crazy retracing my steps notwithstanding the sentimental significance it held for me. Lying on her
death bed, my grandmother had given it to me for protection when I was fourteen. She cautioned me
of the strong energies it held and that this pendant would protect me from negative entities. Her
great aunt had given it to her with warnings of the intense frequency and high vibration that
resonated from this stone. Grandmother claimed it had brought true love into her life shortly after it
was bequeathed to her. My grandfather had served in both wars ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
Remembering the intense reaction I'd felt from the first time my grandmother had placed the
pendant into my palm and thereupon I knew that he was genuinely speaking. Continuing he added,
"If you look to the south of the nest you will see your home. Ever since you were entrusted with the
pendant I have been watching as it's been my duty from the beginning of time to safeguard the
Moldavite pendant and its keeper. There have been many keepers of the pendant hence their reward
has been protection. Placing this pendant into the wrong hands would have an adverse impact on the
earth and mankind as it can be used destructively. It's natural green crystals have powerful
transforming abilities that should only to be used for the advantage of this planet. Are you following
me?" "Yes, I have felt its power," I replied as I cast my gaze downwards, "but I lost it a couple
weeks ago. I've searched everywhere to no avail. My grandmother entrusted me with it and now it's
gone. I've no idea where to search next. Will you help me find it?" Sparkles appeared in the crows
eyes as he replied, "It's here under my wing," and pulled a silvery chain from under his wing.
Beautiful arcs of rays projected all around us from this delicate, oval, forest green pendant as the
sunlight touched

Get Out The Circle Essay
I attempted to run out the circle, yet something held my feet down to the ground. It felt like my two
feet were appended to the ground underneath me. My feet were ardent, yet I had control of whatever
remains of my body. My arms were swinging forward and backward and my hips were contorting
toward each path attempting to pry my feet away from the ground I looked Charlie, who standing
now beside Aura. His face was all written with fear starting from his trembling lip, to his wide grey
eyes "Get out Flower! Now!" He shouted Aura looked at Charlie , with an annoyed look onto her
face "You don't have to shout, we are the only two that can see and hear you. You are dead after all"
"What's happening?" Lyndon voice rushed out. I forgot ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
They all surrounded the circle pounding on something that wasn't there or unseen to the eye. It was
exactly like Zakkery force field. The force field was blocking me and them. Charlie and Aura stood
at the side, away from them angry pounds . Charlie couldn't had helped even if he tried. The passed
on couldn't touch anything, no power...no anything, he was only a spectator in this game "O honey, I
am not the one hurting her" Aura looked down at me then winked all there pounding against the
shield stopped "Then who?" "Me" a female voice said–A tyke voice . The voice was chilly,
additionally energetic frightening me more, yet this voice wasn't far like the others, but closer. Her
voice was so close, it seemed like she was in the circle with me. and I was right, she was in the
circle with me. A scream of shrill fear wanted to erupt from my lips when I captured the little girl
appearance. She wore a cutup, dirty white night gown that stopped at her mid–knee, the gown didn't
cover the blood and scrapes all over her knees. Her black hair stopped at her waist, but a few giant
bald spots laid on her head in variety of places . She looked so young and damaged, but that ended
when I looked into her eyes. She was a Darkling. Blackness filled her eyes and that was all. "Hello,
Rosalina" she looked

Why I Didn 't Be Fine
It was late in the day and I just got a call from the school they said '' Your daughter Bailey passed
out in class she is being rushed to the hospital right now.''
I replied ''ok.''
A million thoughts that day were running through my head when I hung up the phone, is she ok?,
why did this happen?, what's the quickest way to the hospital? I was speeding all the way to the
hospital. I was lucky I didn't get pulled over. When I got to the hospital I rushed over to Bailey she
was in a wheelchair and a technician guy was talking to her. Bailey was just going in for her first
test and I said ''she would be fine.'' but I didn't know that for sure, I hoped she would be anyway.
Bailey went to go get her first test done and I had to sit ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I quickly said '' but if she's not in the pediatric wing I can't spend the night with her.''
when they arrived at the door of the room it looked like she was given a bed in a nursing home
everyone was at least a decade older the Bailey's grandparents. The aide then said '' watch out
coming through''
He had almost bumped into an older mans cane and another one's walker. When I was walking by
someone had said that their Aunt Mabel would be getting a roommate and that would be nice.
Everyone kept looking from me to Bailey and back again so I quickly announce that Bailey just
fainted and she's only there for tests. The nurse started asking Bailey questions and acted like Bailey
was interrupts when she answered no on some of the questions. The one nurse looked over at me
and said visiting hours are over in a really scared but flat voice i didn't know what to say I looked at
Bailey and she gave me permission to leave.
When i walked out the door i just wanted to cry i didn't want to leave my little girl at the hospital all
alone at night and not be able to watch over her and make sure she is ok. I got to the car and it
barely started but it did i just thought

Personal Narrative
I scrambled across the floor, my knees grazed and bruised purple. Catching my breath, my head
spun and I quietly reminded myself that I must keep breathing. In and out. Steady. I silently recalled
all the places I've hidden, crossing them off the list. He'll look at those places first and I couldn't
afford to be caught this time. I told myself that everything was on the line, I had to flee – hide. My
legs were like liquid, unable to move. So, I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head but all I could
think of is of him. The way his voice rang into the air, "I'm coming", how it pierced it and turned it
to ice. Freezing oceans and slipping it under my skin. I was running – down the dark hall, dodging
the tapestries on the walls, the ceramic ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
All those days disguising myself to avoid being found, what were they worth when eventually, I'd be
found anyway? Was it the exhilaration that I enjoyed? The adrenaline that pumped in my veins, that
licked at my calves?
Clenching the doorknob tightly, my arm shakes. Doubt munches away like a tsunami swallowing the
shoreline. Twisting the doorknob, the door inches open slightly and light from the hallway leaks
through. The sound of footsteps invades the silence and I bet you can guess who exactly they belong
to. My head snapped to the direction of the sound and the instinct to bolt came tethering at my skin.
But that new flame that engulfed me is too big to be put down. It consumed me, filling my once
hollow chest with an abundance of warmth and strength.
I saw him now at a distance with his back towards me, scanning the foyer. It happens to all of us at
some time or other. You see someone who looks familiar and you can't remember how or when you
knew them. But his presence didn't stab that kind of fright like it did before since all along, I've got
nothing to

A Day Of Your Life
You're back together and it's official, now what? Now, after your second date, the end of that date
has to tell you one thing: After the kiss that will seal this second date, you've got to spend the night
together again. You will wake–up together with disbelief and hopefully glad, things turned out this
way. This is possibly the most beautiful day of your lives, right now. And, you should be proud of
yourself you're back with the man/woman of your life. The morning is just beginning and you all
need to linger in bed and most importantly have you first (very significant) breakfast together. It is
important to spend your first official morning together. Now, make sure there's enough food
available (the day before). Propose a whole menu like ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
You already know each other that's why they (the commitments) have to be set as soon as a week
after you are back together. This is to make sure you don't make the same mistakes you did the first
time. –First, you should all agree that you started off perhaps with no plans the first time and
perhaps made a lot of mistakes. Don't blame each other, you should be mature enough and confident
enough to accept that maybe the responsibility falls in each one of you and that you should move on
and start fresh. –Get rid of the few "not that serious flings" or the so–called "no string attached
lovers". They need to go. It doesn't matter if you haven't called them for weeks because you are back
with your ex. Make sure you and your ex get rid of them (each one of you on his/her side), fast and
effectively. It's never pleasant to have one of them call you, a month later, while you are in a serious
relationship and calling you "honey" or "sweetheart" while your lover looks at you and senses
something suspicious. It shouldn't happen either if you bump into one of them physically, one day. –
Talk about what you wish to achieve with this relationship, in terms of goals, the partnership that it
entails, etc. And lastly, here are some other recommendations for your new relationship (they will
help you make it work): –Learn to compromise. You should both agree from now on, that one
shouldn't impose himself/herself or his/her opinions, things should always be discussed and

Summary Of JEWEL: Chilled Juice Case
JEWEL: Florida's Natural 59 ounce had two 2/$6 ads during the month including a 3 Day Dale at
$2.47. FNG Gallons were on sale the entire month of April at $5.99 Simply 59 ounce on sale the
entire month at either 2/$6 or $3.99. Overall Chilled Juice category is flat to slightly down at Jewel.
Total Florida's Natural is +22%, Private Label is +97% and Simply is +2.0%, while Tropicana is
down –16% and MM NFC has been discontinued. Jewel is bidding to buy 19 of the Strack and Van
Til stores in northwest Indiana, the bidding process will be finalized by the end of June...
ROUNDY'S: Florida's Natural 59 ounce ran one ad at $2.99, on 4/28. The 89oz retail is $4.79 the
month of April. Alex Lemonade items are on the shelf and is selling.

Passion : Passion And The Power Of Passion
What once was a mere burning match, weak and fragile, has grown into a magnificent wildfire,
capable of engulfing the entirety of the planet itself in its flames. Passion. Those with it, for
anything imaginable, are able to shine far brighter than any other around them. I've always envied
those with something they could cling onto and call their passion. I've always gone through life
without that passion, that flame, that I could cling onto and have shine brilliantly. Sure, I like to
draw, but can I say I'm passionate about it? When I ask myself that, my only possible answer is no.
There's an amazing radiance in someone when they get the chance to talk, or even think, about what
they may as well call their obsession. I've always wanted that radiance, but could never find it.
Then, it appeared. It had been by me, near me, around me, nearly all of my life. Yet, only some time
ago did I reach out to it, in which doing so allowed for a flame of passion to be born. I've gone
through my entire life without anything I genuinely loved. Without anything that lit my heart ablaze.
Nothing. That was until I stepped onto the field of grass with a black and white ball. It's taken time
and effort, but I've found it. The flame that is my passion. The flame that is my love for soccer. As a
child, I would play in a recreational league, but I eventually stopped. I was never very into the sport.
Years went by without me even touching a soccer ball. My younger brother, on the other hand, had
not only continued, but has gone farther than I could have ever imagined. I'm proud of him. But, in a
way, I've felt as if I've ended up in his shadow, despite being older than him. To this day, I'm not
entirely sure of why I wanted to play again. Whether it was inspiration from my brother or a desire
to find something I love, maybe even a combination of the two, in the spring of 2016, I began to
play soccer again. I don't know what was different from previous experiences with the sport, but this
time, something clicked. I was looking forward to every practice session, every match, every
opportunity to play. Once again, it was only for a recreational league, but it served as fuel for my
flame. From there, before I knew it, I was participating

Short Story Monologue
She had never hurt anyone. Ever. She was young. She was innocent. She didn't even know them.
She had never seen them. She never saw their face. She never saw it coming. I'll tell it to you
straight. I won't lie. I won't exaggerate or or put anything to the extreme. In fact, I might just tone it
down. The fear in your eyes is almost tangible. I didn't die. If I did, the killer was pretty good,
because I didn't feel pain, or feel my heart stop, or even remember sucking in my last breath. I'm
here now, wherever this is. I'll tell you a story. I was little. I won't give an age, because that will
make it too real. I lived with my parents. I had no brothers or sisters. I was an only child. I had never
known hunger, or pain, or sadness. No one ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I watched them go to my front door. I waited. They waited. I didn't dare do anything. They had
trespassed, but they hadn 't gone in my house, they hadn't damaged the property, or done anything
illegal that I could think of. So I waited. It was midnight when I finally moved to check the time. I
didn't make any noise, just glanced down at my watch. That one silent movment and Ace swiveled
around. My heart stopped. My breathe stopped. My blood stopped. If the world and time could have
stopped, it would too. Their every colored eyes darted across yard, not just looking, but seeing,
which I can assure is very different. I didn't move, I didn't even move my eyes. I couldn't move,
because I knew if I did, I would die. Suddenly, Ace's lips curved into a smile as their eyes settled
onto mine. I feared my thinking was to loud. "London..." The entire world was dark and silent
except for us. Somehow I knew that everyone was gone. I didn't know where, or how, or what
happened, but I knew they were gone. "London..." Ace's voice was musically dull and pretty
horrible. I didn't do anything, even as my vision darkened, and my lungs screamed for air, I didn't
dare breathe when I was making eye contact with Ace. They turned around and opened the front
door. I blinked. BAM! Ace was standing over me, smiling in a way that almost made me scream in
fear. "London..." I sucked in air and then the world was as it should be. Suddenly cars were driving,
people talking in the

Descriptive Essay About A Runaway Bird
The Runaway Bird
I stood there, looking in through the bars of the cage, watching the birds fly around their enclosure. I
rested my hands on one of the metal bars on the cage as I watched my favorite bird, Sky, she was the
bird I got for my 12th birthday that year. Sky was a bird with blue feathers and white areas on its
stomach that looked like clouds. I loved to watch the birds play with each other. I was allowed to
hold them, but I was not aloud to take them out of the cage without an adult around, and my mom
was taking a nap. My mom has black curly hair and brown eyes. I stood there watching and listening
to the birds tweet, chirp, and play. I really wanted to hold one, Sky, to be exact. "I can hold Sky for a
few minutes and no one ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I kept trying to get the bird but I couldn't reach it, so then I just gave up. I knew I had to tell my
mom what I had done and I knew I was going to get in trouble, but I had to tell her.
So I went into my mom's room slowly cause I didn't want to get in trouble. I walked up to her bed
and I looked at her afraid to say anything, I poked her, hoping that would wake her up, but it didn't. I
knew I had to tell her. "Mom?...Mom?" I said waiting for her to wake up. I had to say mom a couple
more times before she actually woke up. Once she finally woke up I told her "I opened the bird cage
and one of the birds got out." Her sleepy eyes began to widen, she brushed the tangled black hair out
of her face, and she stood up without saying a word and she walked to the room with all the birds.
She walked in and saw the bird flying around the room. "This is why you can't open the cage!" she
yelled. "I'm sorry mom," I said. After a while she caught the bird and put it in its cage. Needless to
say she was mad at me.
Looking back on that day now I feel like I shouldn't have done that, and if I could go back I
wouldn't open that cage. I not only was panicking, but I was scared how much trouble I was going to
get in. I was never allowed in that room alone

Personal Identity: A Narrative Fiction
I slumped down in my seat and crossed my arms, trying to look unimpressed with everything that
was happening around me. That's how I always managed to look, so it wasn't hard. The new kid
walked in and I took a good long look at him. He was easy on the eyes and two of the girls in the
front row were giggling to each other and pointing at him. He looked at them and winked; the
psychos almost fainted at that. Everyone here had mental issues. I mainly hung out with Mute, he
was a good listener, didn't like sharing his feelings. He kept me company and, from what I could
tell, he liked me. Ever since my first week here, we'd been saving each other seats and I beat people
up for him in exchange for his artwork. It was nice to have pictures of the ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
However, when my boot hit his, it stopped moving. Angered, I looked up into his eyes and gasped
when I saw the number in his sea green eyes. It took initial contact for me to see someone's number
and then it would show up on them in random places like a tattoo. So, when our legs touched and
the number 10 came into my vision, it nearly knocked me down to the floor. A number 7 was the
danger equivalent of a trained man with an assault rifle, God knows what this kid could do. New
Kid, seeing the fear in my face smiled, this time evilly. "Watch yourself, Aiyana." He said, staring
into my eyes. I swear his own darkened and a shock of fear went through me. Any other boy in this
place would have called me names much worse, but he could even use my name as a weapon. After
a second, I shook off my fear. I was heartless, I felt nothing. Not after everything that had happened
to me. I saw my own family killed right before my eyes and now I was afraid of some 18–year–old
I'd just met. I gave him a stony look as I swept his hands off my desk and he stood, and looked at me
while I looked ahead at the board. After a couple seconds, he walked to the back of the classroom
and sat down, back to his smiles and games. Two weeks passed and New Kid continued to act
weirder and weirder. I stayed away from him as much as possible while trying to make it
unnoticeable. He was friends with everyone, so this was not an easy task, but I wasn't used to easy

Personal Narrative: Oreius
First things first: I shouldn't be alive. I mean I shouldn't be dead either, but, hmmm, I guess what I
mean to to say is that I shouldn't have been born. But enough with that, or I'll just sound like a
whiny kid. Hi, I'm Nicholas Blackwood and I hate my father. My father? My father is O...BAMM!!
Dang it, here they come again.
Ever since I turned 14 monsters have been chasing me. Yes, you heard me correctly, monsters. A few
griffins, a few thousand harpies, that's pretty usual for demigods. But no one, not even in the
demigod world has my followers. The worst thing in the world: the twins.Two of the greatest
hunters of all time have been hunting me down: Apollo and Artemis. The only reason I'm still alive
is because they search for me from the sky, ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I realized I had only a few minutes before Oreius was free, and then both of them would be after me.
So I ran...again. I ran, but stopped shortly...I was on my tiptoes, 2 inches from the cliff. I hadn't
noticed until now that I've been running up hill. As I stood, looking down at the ocean, I began to
back away from the cliff. I backed to a safe distance and did a slow 360. On my left, about a mile
away on a different cliff, was a lighthouse like in cartoons with red and white stripes. To my right
was was the outer edge of the cliff, with wild waves crashing way down below. As I was about to
jump back into the forest, the twins came out. Oreius on the right and Agrius on the left. As they
stepped into the light, I finally saw how they truly looked. Oreius had the top half of a brown bear,
his fur was waving almost as if light passed through it. His not had sharp teeth with jagged edges
like sharks. The beast was almost 6 feet. His brother was an exact copy of him except for his bear
portion of his body. Agrius was a black bear instead of a brown bear. Also is snout was a couple
inches longer, but his ear was a bit stubby. Other than that they were pretty much the

My Dream Story
I woke again from the same dream that I have been having for weeks or months I don't remember
anymore.The dream was about two older people coming towards a young girl and taking her from
her bed while she was sleeping, they just took her, as they were taking her off the property she woke
up and started kicking and screaming. Then she says a bad man killed her. Than she would say both
of them were sick, very sick. It has been happening ever since we moved near Lidtke Mill. I went
out to go get the paper and the cover story was "Death at Lidtke Mill". I thought to myself "Who
was it? How did it happen?".
The rest of my family walked into the kitchen and sat down, mom and dad read the paper and
looked like they had just seen a ghost all through the cover story. We ate a almost peaceful breakfast
besides Scarlett singing Jack and Jill fell down a hill the WHOLE time, I don't know what is wrong
with her. Mama said that it was a little girl who died in the paper. Mama said she had been
kidnapped. Mama said by a bad man a very bad man. I asked Mama to tell me more about the little
girl and she said yes.
Mama started off saying "The little girl's name was Gretchen Keller, her and her family had just
moved near Lidtke Mill too. She was sleeping soundly in her nice warm bed, Her parents heard a
loud BANG, they ran to her room and when they got there she was gone and the room was a mess,
and her all of her clothes were gone. They looked all over the property because it was huge.

Mancala Research Paper
Mancala the Game That Became Its Own Category Mancala is a game my grandmother and I would
play when I was a child. Never realizing how long it has been around, I found it fascinating how
many different versions there where and how many countries played it. Nobody knows the exact
number of Mancala variants there are but what we do know is that there are more than 800 names of
the traditional Mancala game are known. it is played in up to 99 countries and there are over 200
variants of the game have been described. To make it even making it more confusing some names
denote the same game, while some names are used for more than one game. Touching back to the
module, with the game being introduced to so many different cultures over time the ... Show more
content on Helpwriting.net ...
At the beginning of a player's turn, they select a hole with seeds that will be sown around the board.
This selection is often limited to holes on the current player's side of the board, as well as holes with
a certain minimum number of seeds in a process known as sowing, Often the holes are just dug in
the earth, especially among nomadic people. Sedentary groups usually prefer wooden boards. Other
materials are also used such as clay, metal, cardboard or even feces. In a process known as sowing,
all the seeds from a hole are dropped one–by–one into subsequent holes in a motion that wraps
around the board. Sowing is an appropriate name for this activity, since not only are many games
traditionally played with seeds/stones , placing seeds one at a time in different holes reflects the
physical act of sowing. This act of sowing is the act of them planting crops in the ground to harvest.
The game teaches the basic principles of farming to the uneducated in a dumped down version and
probably not even known to mot players. Goren Hoyle who wrote a book in 1961 about the origins
the Arab origin to the games, in which he expresses a common attitude upon researching of the
games

Breaking Away From A Scar: A Short Story
I pull my hand away as Taehyung lifts up a hand to touch his wound and groaned, "Oh man, this is
going to leave a scar." He then reaches out for his bag again, pulling out a white bandana–like thing
and starts wrapping it around my knee. After covering my wound completely, he pulls the ends of
the bandana and ties it tightly. He looks up at me and smiles. The way he looks at me made my heart
beat uncontrollably. I held a hand over my heart, gripping the thin fabric of my school uniform as I
look away from him to stare down at the bandana wrapped around my knee. After a quiet while, I
feel his light fingers tucking strands of my hair behind my ear and I freeze. His fingers linger on my
long black locks for a few seconds until I start to look

A Short Story : A Story?
Bam!! Crash!!
I just lay there in shock, I didn't know what just happened. Everything flashed before my eyes. All I
remember is standing at the top of the stairs, and then I started to get wobbly. I lost my balance, and
before I knew it, I was laying at the bottom of the stairs.
"Are you okay," my dad asked in a panic. He came running over to me with his eyes as wide as if he
had just seen a ghost, his hands were all filled with sweat. He sat right next to me as if I was dead.
"Michelle," dad yelled at the top of his lungs, as he ran to the bathroom door. "Lilly fell down the
stairs, and I think she is really hurt!" "She's probably fine," mom stated. My dad usually overreacts
to this kind of things, but this time he wasn't. My dad went dashing to the bathroom door, and
SMASH!! He kicked it right open. "I promise you I'm not overreacting this time. Seriously come
look!" I don't know her reaction because I was so shocked, but I do know that she came running
over to me, "Lilly! Lilly! Are you okay," my parents said as I was just snapping back into present
time. I must have been in a really bad shock because they moved me to the couch, and I didn't even
realize it. "What happened," I said adjusting to the very bright light. "You were in a shock because
you fell down the stairs," mom told me as she sat right next to my arm" I looked to my left, and I
find my left elbow curved. "What the heck," I thought to myself as I looked down to my wrist. My
wrist was pointed straight up into the sky. Now that I was thinking about my arm it started to throb
and it started to feel numb. "Owwww," I cried, with tears filling my eyes, like a big pool of water. I
looked around but things started to get blurry because of the tears in my eyes. My parents started to
talk quietly. After talking for a little while, they turned around.
"You are going to have to go to the hospital," my parents said. At this point I didn't care what they
had to do, all I wanted was my arm to stop throbbing and feel better. I laid there with my eyes closed
shut, and shaking my head up and down. My dad had already left because he hated this kind of stuff.
Once my mom had

Stormy: A Fictional Narrative
Over the months following the attack, Stormy went to a therapist for counseling. I won't lie, it
fucking gutted me every time she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming for help, dry
heaving, then sobbing while Drew and I hugged her.
She constantly got tested for STD's, until the doctor said she was in the clear.
One night while standing in front of the closet mirror, she rubbed her hands over her swollen
pregnant belly. "It's so unfair to them, I'm a mess. I have to get past this for them. What if they come
out messed up because of all of this?" She said.
"The doctor said they'll be fine, they're still growing strong."
"No, I mean, what if my trauma and emotional breakdowns cause them to have issues later on in
life?" She ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
"Can we go into the living room and sit down?" Sandy suggested.
Stormy shook her head, "Is she...?"
"Yes ma'am." Sandy answered, softly.
Stormy's hands flew to her mouth, "My...my baby girl?" Tears filled her eyes.
"Miss Sandy, she's crying. I didn't do anything." The girl looked panicked.
Drew was still standing off to the side, "Holy shit." He repeated.
"Cussing is bad." The little girl said.
Stormy laughed through her tears, then stood up. We followed her to the living room. Sandy handed
Easton to Stormy, the little girl stood silently beside Sandy, her eyes bouncing between all of us. "I
have some questions and paperwork that I need to review with you. Do you have time?" Sandy
asked.
"Yes," Drew knelt down, "Lola," he swallowed hard, "Do you want something to snack on or
anything to drink?"
Her eyes widened, "I can have a snack?"
"Yes," his eyebrows drew in, "Rhett will take you and little Easton into the kitchen and you can pick
out any thing you want while Stormy and I talk to Miss Sandy. How does that sound?"
She smiled,

9/11 Short Stories
Was it worth it? "Do something for me, and I will give you twelve payments, of a hundred thousand
dollars, every month." A mysterious voice said, from the shadows. "Who said that?! Come out!" I
yelled, out of fear. "Calm down. You wouldn't care who I was, when I come out." The man said, as
he came out. He was a skinny man. Probably 110 lbs. He was 5'11, which towers over me. He had
freshly cut hair. He was wearing a black suit. He was fairly sharp, for being a scammer. Then again,
he could have just been a normal politician. He walked out of the dark alley. Since it was 7:00 pm, It
was kind of hard to see him. "Why would you possibly want to give me over a million dollars, for
doing you a favor. Unless, this is a huge favor. Is it?" I said. ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
It's over. Bye Olivia." I said, leaving my house key on the counter, since it was her house. I took one
last look around, all the walls were brown, most of the furniture didn't match, and she had two
different types of chairs at the kitchen table. I started noticing things, I never noticed before. It's like
it's the first time I have been in here, when it's more like one of the last times in here. "I will be back
tomorrow for my things." I took one more look at the house, before I close the door. It's now been a
month and my first check, has come in the mail. He put it in a manila envelope. I opened it, and like
Rob promised, there was a ten separate checks for $1,000. I thought out my plan. I would redeem all
of these, separately. One every week, on a friday. Which was today. That way it would seem like it
was from a job. Wait, what about my job? I couldn't deposit 2 checks, every other week. There had
to be a better way. And there was. I could just open up a separate checking account, at a different
bank. There we go. I would go to the bank, next to the grocery store, and deposit these checks

The Darkness
The darkness was slowly devouring my body. All that surrounded me was an empty room and dead
silence. I held on to my knees as tears rolled down my cheeks. I dug my nails into the palm of my
hand, trying to control the unbearable pain in my chest. The images of her face appeared in my
mind. Horns popped out of her head; a tail crawled out from behind her; and a wicked grin crept
across her face. Her smile grew wider the moment her claws ripped off my wings and any chance of
escaping the depths of hell. "I'm home," I called out, while dragging my backpack into the house. I
was met by a pair of crimson red eyes, glaring in my direction. Her piercing stare caused my body to
freeze in fear. I couldn't feel anything, but the beating of my heart. I heard nothing, but the sound of
my heavy breathing. I swallowed. "What are you doing back so late?" She hissed, while looking
down at the dirt around my shoes, "And why didn't you take off your shoes?" "S–sorry," I
stammered, slowly backing away. I had to live in the devil 's house because there was a better
learning environment. She lived in a rich neighborhood, full of wealthy families. The middle school
there was much more vacant than my previous school. The teachers there were much more strict
with assignments and tests. The average test scores of that school were much higher than my old
school. The requirements were harder to meet. There were many clubs and after–school activities.
Everything was just so different. I started to

Descriptive Essay About School
The room fills with light and my mom's familiar smile covers my view, as she nudges me awake, I
slowly rub my eyes and walk to the mirror to get dressed. I look forward and admire my face, my
mother always told me I looked handsome; she especially loved the shape of my eyes, my slanted
eyes. "Hurry honey," my mom invites me downstairs in her loving voice. I rush down, my favourite
breakfast awaits; the eggs and toast, albeit simple, were prepared with care, a staple that never failed
to satisfy. I quickly finish my morning feast, my mom kisses me goodbye and I head out into the
glorious day. Outside, the birds are chirping and the sun is in full bloom, as if to say I'm here and
here I will stay, a lie. I continue to walk down the familiar road, my eyes clear, looking around me I
decide to make a sharp turn heading down Ne road; a road made the same day I was born. I see my
friends, they laugh, eyes planted on their phones. I wave and yell "hello," they turn around and meet
me with loving eyes asking if I want to play a game, I quickly nod yes and pull out my phone; a
large grin plastered my face. The school grows larger in my view, and eventually we reach the door.
My friends follow me into the classroom, and we sit down in our second grade seats. It had always
been like this, at most the only thing that changed was the classroom. The day passes by quickly,
school always does. On my way back home I spot a distant face, no more than two metres away. I
reach out and

I Ask Going Into The Kitchen
"Coffee?" I ask going into the kitchen.
"Yes please." Qiana, my roommate, replies.
I get the coffee brewing and head back into the living room. I see Qiana at the sofa with her laptop
open trying to study. Her hair is in a bun with messy brown strands shoot out from every angle. Her
eyes give a gray blue feel, the color of her worn out Disney world sweater.
I was about to sit next to her when the brewer beeped. It was alarming, telling me to hurry. Our
coffee brewer has two slots which makes it faster than putting one cup at a time. I took both out, a
white one with cat whiskers on top and another with pixelated characters, all wearing different sets
of clothing. I add the sugar and cream on mine, turning the coffee from a dark black color ... Show
more content on Helpwriting.net ...
You wouldn't understand Brin."
Once she said that my mouth opened. No noise came out. I was speechless. Did she not know my
father was dead since I was four? Did she not know I had to live my whole life seeing my mother in
pain? I knew how hurt she felt like for 15 years, but I decided to stay quiet.
"You are right." I say looking straight into her eyes. I felt tears as I thought of that moment I saw my
mother crying. "I wouldn't know. You should go, be with your father as he is still alive. Make sure
he is fine; but I still don't get why you want to drop out. Once your father is healthy you can co–"
"But what if my father doesn't!?" She yelled. She went into my arms crying, as felt my shoulder get
moist from her tears and my cheeks get wet from mine.
It was a few minutes until she got herself together. I grabbed her shoulders and made her look at me.
Her face was red and puffed. "Q, drop out of college. Go home with your family and stay with them
as long as you need to. Just promise me something."
"What?"
"We cannot lose touch. Please make sure we talk every day, and I am able to go see you nice and
healthy anytime I can come over. Promise me that Q, please." The last time someone made a
promise to me was when I was four, when my father promised me he would come to my recital.
"Okay. I guess tomorrow I'll go the counselor to tell them, and I think I will be out by the evening."
She got up and

Summary : Eastern Slandered Time
IGN (Include Previous Names Also): RespectfulPvP
(https://namemc.com/profile/RespectfulPvP)
Age: 14
Timezone: Eastern Slandered Time (EST)
Gender: Male
How many hours can you play each day? Summer – Anywhere from 6–8 School Time – Anywhere
from 4–6
Have you had any past experience? I have had past experiences with many different types of server
ranging from prison, all the way to normal factions, I have never been staff on another HCF server
since this is the only HCF server I 've played.
I was staff on WillowCraft only ranging for 20–30 players a day, I was mod on that server, It was
unfornautly taken down due to the owner not paying for the server once again.
Another server I was staff for was OpCraft it was a hub server with Factions, Prison, and Skywars I
was staff on OpCraft around 6 months ago and resigned due to the owner not treating his staff very
will, I was Helper, then Mod on OpCraft.
Are you staff on any other servers currently? No, I am not currently staff on any servers
Why should you be chosen as a staff member? I would like to get helper because I am helpful, I will
always make sure to make everyone 's day as good as I possibly can, I wont ever let someone ask a
question and not get a reply back with a good answer, I don 't hack, I know when someone is
hacking and when someone isn 't hacking, I will make sure that staff isn 't getting disrespected, I
really don 't mind when people rage at me and I always stay chill, I will make sure to ban and record

The Effects Of Negative Images And Thoughts About It
When I was young and arrogant I really didn 't like staying in one place, i 'd always liked being
adventurers and getting out of my way to get out to have fun. But one day when receiving the news
that I wouldn 't be living in the same area anymore, something called "moving" was just repeating in
my head. I couldn 't figure out where, I started to picture negative things in my head because of me
not knowing what this word. I started to think about negative images and thoughts about it. Then all
of a sudden I started to snap back into a conversation with my parents and older siblings. "–so we
are moving to a new state because right now Rochester isn 't just the right place to be right now"
father explained. " Sure whatever, I don 't care ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
" Hey Dad, where are we going to be living next?" I question. "Oh! We're going to be living in a
wonderful place called Illinois," he answered, "our new home is awaiting for use there." "Where's
Ililonis?" " It's il–uh–noiz you idiot" my brother blurted out. "Hey Gido, please don 't call your
brother that, take that back and apologize" my dad announced. "Sorry" he muttered. "Now back to
your question Deng, its a few hours away from us right now so you can sleep right to have some
energy for tomorrow when you see it. Okay?" "Alright" I screamed, "Goodnight!" I couldn 't sleep
for hours, sleeping in cars when knowing i 'm moving wasn 't really my thing so I fake sleep, when
hours passed by my dad and brother, Gido, were talking and discussing. " Now, Gido, I understand
that you hate moving schools and meeting new people but also Deng, and your other younger sister
is going to hate this change because it's THEIR first time also experiencing this change when we
moved from egypt, so keep your cool", After that I started to dazz a little then all of a sudden I
started to sleep. "Deng....wake up.....Deng wake up." We 're here, here's our NEW home!" my mom
cheered. I was happy it was a nice looking house. "Let's go inside," my mom insisted. "Alright", it
smelled like wonderful clean raspberry,

Mystery Monologue
When Kise saw him, he could hear something sizzle from within his chest. With a snake–like hiss,
low and hushed, it snapped at him with a bite, concocting minute droplets of poison, dripping over
him – burned the skin, peeling it off alive with tiny touches of death.
Exhilarating. Bizarre.
If you take a knife, jam it into his chest, crack open the ribcage, shove aside the lungs, slice the
trachea and siphon the thick, metallic blood – you might notice it was a hollow there, where the
heart supposed to be. Or it might have a different colour, how it should be vibrant red, fleshy and
wet with blood – instead you might find a strange tumour–like lump of meat, black in colour,
dripping with grease. It moved, shuddered and beat in regular rhythm ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
Most of the Psych major classes would have been out by then, he thought, counting the minuscule
minutes closely. It was a sunny Autumn day, the park was be crowded with students who'd occupy
all the open spaces available. Just as he was finishing his sandwich, a ruckus drew his attention –
and he lifted his jaw, lowering the book on his lap.
A group of tall guys in football team's jackets, sleeveless shirts and jeans were in the park, carrying
a bunch of rugby gears to play with on the field. The were tall and muscular, the athletic types. The
jocks. The college girls in the vicinity squealed while the rest remained indifferent, some cringed,
scuttling away to open the path for them to walk on. They entered the scene with a conceited
swagger, exaggerated postures and loud noises, as they were purposely showing off to the others
they were the Alpha males.
There was plenty of space left for them to claim, but today they'd decided to target the spot
Kasamatsu's group was occupying.
"Faggots, get out of here! The place's ours." Zachary, or Zack, the jock with the auburn blonde hair,
not the tallest nor the biggest, but certainly the richest out of them and therefore had the most
authority, barked at the Crime students. Funny, they never really acted so aggressively, usually. For
some reasons, the guy seemed to target them exclusively

To Kill A Mockingbird Chapter 14 Alternate Ending
"What did I say about shaking me?" The two stared at each other for a moment before laughing it
off. Kairi stopped and sent Tsuna a serious look. "I meant what I said. This tickle spot is a no–touch
zone." "Yeah, yeah" was Tsuna's only reply before he continued to munch on the strawberry pocky
his mother had given them early on. "So what is this great idea of yours?" "Let's go exploring." "But
we already explored the whole house." This part was true to the word. It was Kairi's idea to 'get to
know' the house she would be living in for Kami knows how long. "No silly. I'm talking about the
neighborhood. I have barely seen Nanimori and I want to look around while I get the chance." Kairi
kept looking at Tsuna with a look that meant she wasn't going to budge. The boy relented to her
stare. "Fine, but only in the neighborhood." ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
He didn't mind their torture as much if he was along, but the fact that Kairi would be with him
changed everything. She could get bullied along with him and that was the last thing Tsuna wanted.
He knew he couldn't do much, but he wanted to protect Kairi. There was something in his gut that
wanted to protect everyone he cared for. If only I was strong enough. "Sure thing!" Tsuna could tell
that Kairi was hardly listening to him anymore as she went off to prepare for their next great
adventure. "Tsuna look!" Kairi was jumping on her spot and was pointing eagerly at a flock of
ducklings who were swimming in a

So Get On With It If You Must
So get on with it if you must." Lionel went flaccid, and Morgane, losing interest in this game, pulled
away. However, the flogging resumed. Even now, he heard the sharp crack of the whip and felt the
searing pain of the lashes against his bare skin. The nausea that crawled up his throat that day
returned, burning his mouth. He balled his hands into fists in his lap, hoping that would cause the
trembling to subside, and he might pull himself together before he did or said something foolish.
Alis massaged his lower arm gently. "You didn't swear to her." "I... No, I didn't." "And you were
flogged over thirty times." Alis stated this as a fact, not a question. "Each time Morgane asked you
to swear fealty, you said, 'I am loyal to my king and ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Please. No one considers you anything other than brave. Faced with assault and certain death, you
stood firm. Fought back as best you could." "I wanted to die with my dignity intact, but I came so
close to cowering and submitting. If Arthur and his retinue hadn't rescued me right in time... I was a
breath away from surrendering. Tell me, Alis, what kind of man gives in?" Alis laced her fingers
through his. "Lionel, I must speak freely, and I hope you'll listen." She took a deep breath and blew
it out. "Are you listening to yourself? You were abused and victimized by dark magic wielded by the
most terrifying sorceress ever known. Any other man would have given in straight away, just as your
comrades did. You hold yourself to a standard that a human cannot meet. And I believe that's what's
causing you pain. Allow yourself to be human, Lionel." He shook his head. "I was weak." "Are
women who are raped weak?" Alis challenged. "Of course not! It's the perpetrator's fault entirely,
never the woman. The cruelty lies in the heart of the rapist, not the person suffering abuse." "Then
why can't you afford yourself the same empathy? Compassion. Understanding. Forgiveness." Lionel
pulled his hands from Alis's and strode to the dining table. Needing a distraction from the intensity
of their discussion, Lionel grabbed his goblet and poured fresh mead into the vessel until it
overflowed. He took a healthy gulp, then headed back to his seat, but Alis was

Understanding The Concept Of Manners
Let's face the truth – everyone loves a well–mannered kid, but raising such a kid doesn't happen
overnight. Teaching your kid the basics of manners is a long–term process which you can start as
soon as she develops language and communication skills. What manners you teach your kid at each
stage of her development will change according to her ability to understand and follow social
values. Here are a few tips to help you in the process:
1. Set realistic expectations
Keep your expectations realistic. Teaching a 3–year–old kid how to stay put at the dinner table for 2
hours is nowhere close to reality. You need to acknowledge that there are certain things your kid is
not capable of doing, both psychologically and physically, at different stages. If you try to teach her
more than what she is capable of, that is not going to benefit her. Understanding the concept of
manners is as important as learning to practice them.
2. Create situations
Young kids learn a lot from observation and practice. It is important that you create situations or
expose your child to situations where she can practice manners. When you teach your kid to say
"hello" while answering a phone, make sure that she is presented with a few right situations to
practice it. For example, you can ask her grandparents to give a call, ask her to pick up the phone
and answer it. If she doesn't practice what she learnt, prompt her with a gentle reminder "Remember
what we learnt yesterday? What should you say while

Alice Monologue
Ugh where is this? and why is it so dark here you could at least put on a light lets just yell for
somebody or something " HELLO SOMEBODY THERE? " [ Yes i am here master ] " who are you
calling master?! " not that i mind being called that [ I am calling you that ] " yeah i heard that but
what is this place? " [ this is the void a place between life and death ] " wait I'm dead? " [ yes ] "
how did i die? " [ you died of a heart attack master ] " why can't i remember that? " [ after you died
erased your memory's so that you won't feel guilty about leaving your mom and sister behind ] " i
don't know why but that kind of sounds like me " [ yes that is what you are like master ] " so uhm
kind of late to ask this but what is your name " ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
let's go for Alice " okay from now on your name will be Alice " [ thank you master ] " so uhm what
am i doing here? " [ fufu i was waiting for you to ask that ] did she really just fufu i thought only
people in novel and stuff did that [ you are chosen to become a God of Creation ] " WHAT I AM
CHOSEN TO BECOME A GOD WHY?! " [ calm down master you were chosen by the creator
because he you are one of his descendent ] " wait i am what? " [ about 100 million years ago one of
the souls of the great great great great great grandsons of his went missing and drifted of to a for
away universe and you are that soul ] " but isn't he crazy strong to have created all that is? why was i
so weak? " [ yes he is and why you were so weak was because when you were born you was
dropped down to the lower universes and drifted for a really long time till you came and was born in
a human body on the planet called earth in that time you lost a lot of your power and because the
universe where earth was made is one of the weakest of the universes you couldn't get your celestial
power back ] " so that means i can get it now?

Creative Writing : A Short Story
Curiously, she took a moment to look at the coat while wearing it. It was old and brown but not to a
point where it had tears just a few little scuffs on the sleeves. The zipper was broken, jammed
actually. With two pockets where April reached into to warm her hands. Ow... her finger was
punctured by a small gadget she pulled out making her bleed. It was a strange machine, unsure of
what it was she put it back in the pocket. She thought of turning back around to return it but
weariness won her over instead. By the time she got in her car it was around 3 am and she was
exhausted. Looking up at her rear view mirror she swore she saw something, a shadow. Maybe,
being drowsy and tipsy is not a good combination. She rubbed her eyes, put on her ... Show more
content on Helpwriting.net ...
My eyes finally stabilize and for some odd reason, I'm in a bed with my hands tied to it. I try to pull
away, but it requires too much strength. Save me before I fall, that's the last thing I remember before
floating into the nothingness of my mind. I allowed this to happen, it's my fault.
A random little girl shakes her bed, "Hello?"
She had long blonde hair, dressed in pink overalls with a pink bow clipped on the side of her hair
complimenting it. Her face full of joy making the complexion in her cheeks tinted rose. And her
eyes, big and hazel filled with hope, something April had lost a long time ago. She held up a tattered
brown bear pretending it was talking.
"Hi, my name is Penny, it's short for Penelope!"
Her high–pitched voice startled April causing her head to turn. At first, she didn't know who it was
but then realizes that little girl is her. It's her eight–year–old self. Still dizzy from who knows what
medications were put in her, she manages to speak out some words. Her groggy voice doesn't help
but she asked where she is. Her younger self–unsure of what she's talking about hugs her.
"Mom, you're alive!"
Mom? She just nods, not in agreement but confusion. Old white men walk in and congratulate her
for being such a good sport throughout her surgery. Surgery? Mom? She lets them speak hoping that
anytime soon she would wake up from this weird dream. While they speak, they bring up her
involvement in a car accident

Personal Narrative-Practitioner
I watched you every day from behind the bushes for about a week, But on this particular day, You
seemed as if you left out of your 4th block Spanish from those rusty gray doors on the side of our
school building. And I thought you were going to walk to your blue Camry to go to McDonald's for
lunch and order a number one like you usually do every Tuesday and Thursday after class. I was
examining your perfect black hair glisten as you walked to the parking lot's direction, But out of
nowhere you stopped and turned over to my direction. I crept down deeper behind the bush, hoping
you did not see me. My heart began to race as I heard footsteps coming to my location. I quickly
acting as if I were sending a text message to avoid any eye contact

Being Thankful For The Most Important People For Your Life
Thankfulness is like a tree that keeps on growing, because it always grows one way or another, slow
or fast. It is very important to be thankful for the things that you have in life. Being thankful allows
people to appreciate life, and have true happiness with what they have. It shows people that you care
about life, and what it has to offer about you. Thankfulness can keep the earth clean, because if you
are simply thankful for the earth, and you will likely not disrespect it. The point of my essay is to
show you that I'm thankful for my grandparents, music, and money. Grandparents are very
important people in one's life because of the many whimsical things that they do for us. My
grandparents are always there to make me feel better. My amazing grandparents make me feel better
with their warm, welcoming lives, and love when I'm down. To me, they are the nicest people on the
entire surface of this planet. Since supply me with what I need, and even more, I am able to do fun
things with or without them. Also, they are very caring towards me and the rest of my family.
Additionally, they give me gifts, and good ones too, school, and occasionally help me do life.
Besides, they essentially supply me with everything I need for the real world, but my parents do that
as well. One of my favorite qualities of my grandparents is that they give us amazing trips around
the world. Doing these trips with them is one of the most fun things you can possibly do. They give
us the trips to

Personal Narrative-400m
Have you hit a time where everything you worked was so close, but it slipped away? That was my
sophomore year, the day of conference track. I did fair through the season, but was always working
hard to a better 400m runner. The real challenge was one making conference, which I didn't even get
to compete in the conference freshman year. When the time came I ran a good race, but was literally
one place and one second from lettering. That was a major goal, so it hit me pretty hard when I have
been so close yet so far. If anything the event made me work harder towards my goal in ways I
haven't really accomplished before. Let's start this story with where it all started, when I never even
dreamed of doing the 400m dash. My freshman ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
It was better than last year, but still embarrassing that a junior was still playing JV. That year kinda
made had enough of that, but for the first time ever I was dreading the track season thinking it would
just be a repeat of last year. I knew had to try a little though because I knew I was a good runner, but
I didn't know how good. Turns out that I was faster than I could've imagined, beating the people I
don't usually beat. I added an event to my list, beating on of the 800m guys to secure a spot on the
4x800m relay. I would secure a spot I enjoyed better than the 400m dash and that was the 4x400m
relay. You know how this story goes and how it will all lead up to the big day, conference. That year
my team got all–conference in the 4x800, with an honorable mention(3rd place) in the 4x400. The
goal had finally been accomplished, but I knew I would come back, do even better the next

Eulogy For Grandmother
When one becomes a sister, a seed is planted in the depths of both of their hearts. In order to grow,
the seed requires the warmth of the other's love, a dousing of compliments, and a breath of
encouragement. After some time, the seed blooms into a beautiful flower and gains the gazes of
many. It is the job of the other sister to protect her flower, so that it never gets picked. I am a sister.
The day I became one, was the first day I left the house without a doll in tow.
"I'm gonna have a new doll now, right Gramma?"
Grandma smiled as she buckled me in.
"Right, but this one you'll have to take extra good care of," she responded with a wink.
When Grandma and I arrived at the hospital, a kind nurse led us down a hall to a window enclosed
room. I immediately pressed my little nose and palms against the glass and peered in with a bit of
confusion. Three years and a couple feet tall, I did not understand why I couldn't hold her yet. I also
expected her to resemble one of my dolls, but that wasn't the case. None of my dolls ever turned
blue or had cords all over their body and face. Mommy and daddy gently rested their hands on my
shoulders. They appeared tired, a way I had never seen them before.
"Meagan is not doing well," they explained.
"Meagan.." I tried the word on my tongue.
The doctors entered behind the glass, and I watched as they began pressing buttons on the machines.
"Well I'm her sister. I can help her. Let me in there," I responded knowingly.
"Not right now

Creative Writing: Boudreaux
Boudreaux called my name as he ran to me. Shamed, I tried to hide my face by turning it away from
him. He kneeled beside me and gathered me into his arms. "Please lay with me, hold me," I begged,
not wanting to stand. My legs felt too weak to carry me. Boudreaux lay down beside me and
enveloped my naked body with his. I felt warmed in the cool night air; his strength made me feel
stronger. He held me firm; his hands on my back were strong and steady. Mine were on his face,
running through his hair; touching his lips, wanting to be sure that it was he and not another ghoul,
another incubus. With a fingertip, I opened his lips as I brought mine to his. I kissed him deeply,
passionately, and then began to remove the rest of my clothes as the urgency ... Show more content
on Helpwriting.net ...
The feel of his strong manly body against my flesh stirred an ember into a flame. I kissed his arms,
his chest, and his lips, moved lower and suckled his manhood in an act of submission, clinging to
him as if a lifeline and he responded– slowly at first and then with a need matching my own. Our
bodies consummated our desire for one another in perfect unison, our sexual organs pushing and
pulling until that final glorifying act of orgasm that completes the cycle. I thought my body would
consume him with its need but gratification came easily. » In the weeks that followed, Boudreaux
and I spent our time between the city and his plantation. The weather had turned cooler and the
nights longer. In the city, we slept the day's away– watched plays at the French Opera House at night
and dined in the cities many fine eateries. As it grew even cooler, we covered with blankets as we
sat by the fire and snuggled throughout the night, making love over and over again. In the country,
we slept late into the morning then picnicked along the river. On sunny days, we explored the
bayous in a skiff that Boudreaux had used since childhood. With great enthusiasm, he showed me
the places of his youth and talked of his plans to plant more cane. We made love beneath the
willows, blushing and giggling like schoolchildren when discovered by a pickaninny sent to gather
water from the

Persuasive Essay About Egyptian God
Okay, the plan shouldn 't have been as difficult. Get in, shut the place down, and get out before the
alarm blares to possibly kill my eardrums. Things never play in our favor and I should have known
that from the beginning. You see, we 're a selected group of kids carefully picked by the
government. For what? That 's something we can 't say yet. But we are an elite task force from: S–E:
Block 466. At first, we were government guinea pigs then we turned into weapons. Back to the most
important person at hand, Me, the reason you 're reading this. You may be questioning, Am I, the
person giving you this information, human? Depends on your definition. I walk on two legs and
look human. But don 't let your eyes fool you. I 'm only half ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
The comb–brush hybrid ran through my flat ironed kinky curls. Throwing on a My Chemical
Romance shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, and a pair of black converse. I ran to the dresser and
grabbed an envelope. My hipster black glasses framed my face as my hands stuck the envelope into
my messenger bag. "Hurry or you will miss the bus, Again!" My mom caringly yelled. I nodded
even thought she couldn 't see me and ran out the door. Running on a small burst of energy only got
me past two houses. I stopped for breath before running again. Feeling the soles of my feet hit the
pavement although I 'm wearing shoes. My brain goes into imagination mode and the Earth shifts.
The ground that I step on melts away under my feet causing me to run faster. A zombie rolls out
from the bush as I run even faster. My messenger bag hitting my side. I reached my bus stop and the
world goes back normal. "Thank you. . . For what ever that was, Imagination, I 'm very lucky to still
have you," I thought silently as I boarded the bus. I take my seat as the driver takes off. Starring out
my window and plugging in my headphones, I ignore my surroundings. It only feels like a few
seconds, but we pull up into hell – I mean, School. High school to be exact. We get off at the
entrance and my two friends are there waiting on me. Nico brightens up as he nudges a figure next
to him. The figure looks up and I can recognize that face

Descriptive Essay On Destitute Beauty
Destitute Beauty In the large city of New York, there are many beautiful people. I am not one of
them. I can pass hours away sitting in a coffee shop in a tall seat next to the window, watching the
beauties pass, seeing my reflection against them even more bloated and lumpy than normal. Some of
them notice me. Most of them don't. It doesn't matter. Like I said, New York is a large city, I'll never
see them again. And anyway, I'm sure they're used to people staring. How could they not be, they
draw people with their large, black rimmed eyes and lean figures and cutting jawbones like dogs to
the enticing smell of meat. I am just another dog, one they will forget in moments. And when the
sun sets, and the beautiful people fade away and the crowd becomes faceless and intoxicated, that's
when I leave, and where I stay until the sun rises, becoming one with the pulse and throb of the
mass. Promising myself that the next day, yes, the next day, I'll get a job, ignore the cold, gorgeous
people, succeed even with my lumps, and papery skin, and eyes that are just a little too far apart.
And the next day, with my headache, I return. Today is yesterday and the day before. The sun is
especially bright now, almost passive–aggressively bright, shining smugly through the haze that
buries the city, bouncing into the small cafe in which I spend most of my time. It's supposed to be
homey, with nearly dead plants hanging skeletal by the windows and overstuffed couches near a
coffee table. I sit in the uncomfortable seat that's almost comically tall, at the only table next to a
window. The barista––Ellen––is chatting happily with a customer, she barely notices me anymore.
Which is fine by me. A woman, with long legs and hollows under her cheekbones, struts past the
café, a mere foot away from me. She doesn't notice my stare. It's a funny thing. People talk all they
want about feeling when people stare at them, getting goosebumps and looking around frantically
for their admirer. But either it isn't true, or I'm not important enough for my stare to mean anything,
hold any weight. Searching through the crowd, I find parts and pieces that I want most, playing a
game I often play. Her taut stomach, her long legs, her bright eyes,

Descriptive Narrative
"Captured" I couldn't help but feel miserable on the saturated, and frigid concrete floor. Just to think
a couple of days ago, I was sitting on the recliner reading my favorite book kidnapped. Ironic right,
considering I'm trapped in a cell with a crazy person having to fend for myself. It all started with a
fight with my mom about a party. "But MAAA! PLEASE!!," I screamed "I said no, it's a school
night Zoey," she replied, as she hovered over the pasta she was cooking. "I hate these stupid rules, I
get good grades!!! And I hate you!! As I stormed away and briskly ran up the stairs, I was quickly
regretting some of the things I had said. As I sat on the edge of the bed staring at the open window
and looking out at freedom, I got up and silently crept out of the house and ran until I reached the
party. "I didn't think you were going to make it," said my friend Bailey. "Well, I snuck out of the
house to be here, so it better be worth it." I know you just got here, but we ran out of drinks. You
need to go with us to that creepy gas station down the street to get more. I was about to say no
because I have heard the rumors about that gas station, like how people have gone missing and all
the trouble with the police. But I didn't want too be uncool and say no, so I said, "why not." When
we got to the gas station, I had decided I would stay by the car while they ran inside. One thing was
sure, this gas station gave me the chills like I was watching a live horror film. That was

The Girl Who Killed-Personal Narrative

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