Reflection Paper On Learning Disability

Reflection Paper On Learning Disability
After I got a text message from the bully at six in the morning, I just wanted to scream and cry at the same time. I sat on my bright pink chair and
stared at my phone in darkness.It all started when a new girl came to the school during december right before winter break.The first day she came
she was already the most popular girl in the school. Her name was Samantha kennish. Originally no one was by my locker,but then they put hers
right next to mine. She started to be mean when I got a question wrong in history. I felt like I was a person who just failed their test. Samantha
didn't realize that I have a learning disability and I was trying to answer the question to the of my best ability . My learning disability makes me
not be able to focus all the time. Samantha was the only girl who was making fun of me saying "you are a nobody and will never be anybody."
Until she got her friends to join in. This text message I got on a freezing cold january day made it even worse than it already was. As I started to
open the text message my palms started to sweat.I was so scared of what it might say.The text message read you will never be good enough to do
anything in life.It's like a horror story that will never end. I just want to know what's wrong with having a learning disability. I want to tell my
mom but she will just turn into crazy mom.I call it that because she screams and yells at whoever is bothering me. It really doesn't help anything.I
call my friend instead and tell her about the text. She always makes me feel better when this happens.She even has a name that makes you feel
better inside Christmas Whiteside.Christmas is one of those friends who when a bully is bugging you she makes you feel stronger then
them.Chrismas tells me nothing is wrong with having a learning disability it just makes you special in your own way.When I tell her that I got
another text message from the bully.She just says that Samantha is just worried about her friends and one day her world will fall apart.When her
would does fall apart her friends will leave.Samantha will be all alone and we will feel bad for her but she won't want help. After the phone call with
christmas I feel better,but I know it won't get
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Rizwan Alternate Ending
"Can I open the window?" So fixated on the interrogation, Razaa's question made Ally jump. Rizwan waved his consent and continued. "I have heard
a version of the story. Maybe you can tell me if this is accurate." The morning sun spread across the room the instant the drapes behind her pulled
apart. "Razaa," he said. "You were there when my son died. No?" When the door slid open, a much–needed breeze wound through the room, cooling
them off. "Yes, sir." He smiled at the man behind Ally. "Wassim tells me you heard her confess to killing him." Ally's body stilled as she braced herself.
Since the conversation was in English, Wassim sat rigid watching the interaction. At the mention of his name, he rose to his feet. "She is a liar. Don't
believe anything she says." ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
"You killed my Sayeed?" Unable to speak, she nodded a second time. The guard behind him handed Rizwan his gun.
She leaned back on the sofa and waited. A gust of wind sped over her head. A second later, a red hole appeared on Rizwan's forehead. His eyes
widened, and he reached forward as he fell back onto his guard behind him. The pair landed on the floor. The only sound she heard was her own
breathing as she waited for them to move. Blood trickled from them creating a puddle on the ground. In stunned silence, she watched the red pool
of liquid widen. Someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the floor. When she tried to yank her arm away, Razaa sandwiched her hand between
his two palms. "Please, Sara Mommy. Trust me," he mouthed. Before he was done, the room erupted in screams. Shariff was on his feet, his hand
on his head. His body shook as he called for the men to come. While she and Razaa crouched in the corner where the sliding glass and wall met, he
ran to the hallway door. The same gust of air sliced through the room a second time. Shariff fell forward. His body slammed against the door in front
of him. A line of red followed him down the door as he slid to the

Descriptive Essay On The Devil
The devil I feared, sat on my lungs so deeply it felt impossible to breath. My knees were trembling and I could not move. A single tear drop got
away from me as it broke the dam wall in my soul. I just stood there at the edge of the steps, as I watched her slip away to another man with nothing
I could do. 5 sets of eyes watching, joining me in shock. I turned into a completely empty shell as I stared at the entrance to the Vermeer's house
where I kept replaying the recent events through my head. The house that used to be so full and grand, now seemed so empty to me. I contemplated
why she rejected my proposal and then it appeared clear to me that she lied about wearing those blue and yellow head clothes so what else had she
lied to me about. I had a slight suspicion that she was to have feelings for the man in the attic, but I thought I had pushed that away with my love and
affection. Clearly I was wrong. I felt my strength regain as my sadness turned to anger. My eyes gazed up at the attack to see him, standing at the
window staring down at me, he too looking shocked, though much more still than everyone else. How could she do this? With a flood of
hopelessness and anger I turned away from the Vermeer's house and fled like mist before a radiant day.
I steamed through the market place towards the pub. I couldn't stop the thoughts rushing around in my head. All sorts of emotions kept stirring up and
I didn't know how to feel. Anger, hate, betrayal or love? I didn't know if

The Story of a Remarkable, Average Man Names Florian
Florian slept fitfully the night before he died. He dreamed of strange creatures with masked snouts and madmen in boats, of a wanderer with a
spyglass, and of many other things that need not be mentioned here. He rose in the morning as he always did, by hitting his alarm clock until it shut
up. He shuffled to the bathroom, where he had a staring contest with his bedraggled reflection. The thin face with dark brown bedhead stared back at
him and stuck out its tongue. Florian showered and dressed quickly, donning his very favorite tie (a navy blue one with oranges on it), drank a cup of
coffee, and moseyed his way down to the front door of his apartment complex.
Now, Florian Jones was a remarkably average man. A little eccentric, perhaps, but fairly normal. He was exactly thirty–three years, eleven months, and
eight days old , and he had always been a dreamer. Florian loved dreams. In fact, he kept a log of his dreams. He remembered them every night, as
clearly as the day. He had notebooks upon notebooks full of dreams, a dream for every night since he was eleven years old. He often wondered if there
was something more to them and sometimes spent hours with his notebooks spread around him, trying to make sense of it all. He'd read all the best
books on dream interpretation, but he just couldn't decipher it. Nonetheless, he continued to immerse himself in his notebooks, searching for answers.
That particular day, Florian did not want to go to work. Not that he ever did. He

Oh Tokyo Ghoul
I made too many promises to myself in middle school. I made too many promises to myself in the summer. Promises about making friends and
gaining confidence and being happier about everything. Promises about religion, which I've since given up altogether. I thought that if I told myself it
was possible, I could magically become confident. I'd suddenly gain the ability to approach people, to say whatever I want to say without second
guessing myself, and to stop caring what people think. I can't believe I thought it would work. One promise was that I would be less miserable when I
was alone. I always need attention and affection, even when I don't want it, so when I suddenly have no one to talk to and nothing to occupy my mind,
I'm miserable. ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
She's alone, drawing or staring at the floor like I am, and I walk up to her.
"Hey," I say. "Could I sit with you?"
She smiles and nods, gesturing to the space beside her.
As I sit, I notice the design on her T–shirt, and immediately recognize the leathery mask and tussled white hair of the main character of a great anime.
"Oh, Tokyo Ghoul!"
She looks down at her shirt. The design is a menacing depiction of Kaneki Ken, the half–blooded main character, spattered with blood and placing a
finger to his lips.
"Yeah? I love Tokyo Ghoul." She says, smiling at me, cracking her knuckles in the iconic style of the anime in which she presses her thumb to the top
of each knuckle and pulls down.
I grin like an idiot, happy to have found something in common with this girl. "Even though it rips your heart to shreds constantly."
She laughs, a pretty, bubbly sound escaping her lips and causing my stupid grin to grow.
I suddenly feel dizzy and sick, and the lighting in the entire room becomes much darker. Everything feels twisted, as if we've gone back in time. She's
no longer smiling, and I'm looking at her t–shirt again, although I don't remember breaking eye contact.
My friend suddenly looks absolutely disgusted. "Ew,

Personal Narrative: If I Am Racist
I stared at the piece of paper on the table in front of me. I had sat at the same desk, in the same chair for over an hour now, staring at the same piece
of paper. My mind had gone blank with a serious case of writer's block. I looked at the clock on the plain, beige colored wall and sighed. An hour
had passed and I continued to look at that dusty, old clock on the wall. Seconds turned into minutes, which eventually turned into an hour. My long,
wavy brown hair brushed over the paper that decided if I would become a lawyer or not. I had endured almost seven years of school all to stare at
this paper for an hour and have nothing. My vision was blurry, but I ignored it and tried to push through my pounding headache so that I could start my
LSAT... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I started to shake because I was so nervous from all that was happening. Just yesterday, I was worried about passing my LSAT, and now I was being
told that I have something possibly wrong with my brain. I waited until the doctors got the results from the annoying machine. I waited and waited
forever. Dr. Sloan finally walked into my room right as I was about to drift off. "Your scans came back, and you have a brain aneurysm," he said,
pausing to let me take it all in. "It has grown to a very large size. The nurses told me you had been having terrible headaches and symptoms for
months now. Why have you not come to the doctors before now?" he said with a sincere, worried look on his face. I thought for a moment and
started to defend myself, but nothing came to mind. I had a feeling for a few months that something was wrong, but had refused to go to the hospital
because I needed to work on my exam and study harder. I pushed through the pain, and eventually forgot about the terrible headaches I would endure
for hours at a time. I must have zoned off because Sloan was staring at me waiting for my answer. "Can you please just let me have some time to
myself. I need time to process all of this," I remarked with a scowl on my face. Dr. Sloan started to exit the room, but he looked like he wanted to
say something. He stared at me with a curious look, but briskly walked away, sighing because he had given up trying to talk to

Doritos-Personal Narrative
Finally! Food! For a minute I thought I was going to starve to death here. I was sitting down and savoring the blue packet of Doritos right now I had
in my hand. With my back leaning against the cluster of boxes, I looked up at Soundwave and shouted a short thank you to him. I was pretty sure that
he was the one that got me all of these boxes of food. Soundwave just stared at me without response.
Grabbing the opened bottle of water I had next to me, I downed the remaining water. Who knew that a bottle of warm water in a plastic water could
be so refreshing? Crumbling the packet of now empty chips packet, I set it down next to the other trash from the previous meals I had.
Oh man, that felt a lot better. Suddenly I was grabbed by the cape ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
But first, we were on a flying ship! Then my chances of escaping this place went to a slim to none. Damn you ship! And what the fudge was the
Decepticons and why did they need my help explaining things in this world. They were advanced alien robots for god sake! Can't they use the stupid
internet?!
"Wait! Let me get this straight, you guys need MY help to help you explain things in this world?" I asked them. They both looked at each other for a
moment before looking at me and nodded simultaneously. I felt like facepalming then. "You guys know there is a thing in this world called the
'internet', right?" They nodded in affirmation.
"So why aren't you using that to help you? It would do a way better job than me since the internet contains almost everything about this world?" I asked
them pointing a finger at

Descriptive Essay About Teenagers
{Ayla's P.O.V.} Today I also met Melanie who is also drop dead gorgeous and incredibly nice like the other girls in the squad. No wonder why they're
so popular and everyone likes them! I was standing by the lockers with them and laughing at their weird conversation. "Barbeque sauce is definitely the
better condiment!" Malia says in Bethany's face.
"No! Barbeque sauce is too messy! Simple ketchup is the best!" Bethany counters.
"Ketchup is basic like you!" Malia yells back.
"Well Barbeque is messy just like you! When was the last time to cleaned your room or even washed your hair?!" Bethany yells getting in Malia's face.
Bethany soon realizes what she's said when we see Malia puff steam from her nose.
"Come here you little b!tch so I can mess you up since I'm that messy!" Malia screeches.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! Really!" Bethany yells as she runs to hide behind Lucy.
Malia curses some more at Bethany while Bethany keeps yelling apologies back. Lucy keeps the two apart and starts talking.
"Come on guys. Neither of those two are the best. It's all about mayonnaise." she says coolly while still keeping them apart. The two girls stop in their
place and stare at Lucy in horror. "EW! MAYONNAISE?!" they both scream simultaneously whilestaring at each other with wide eyes. I can't help
but laugh at the exchange. I try to muffle my laughs but it doesn't work because I almost collapse to the floor. Melanie starts laughing uncontrollably
like me and we hold onto each

Omaha Beach: A Short Story
The shoreline loomed ominously in the distance. I could faintly make out the gray concrete fortifications that sat on top of the colossal jagged cliff,
barely visible through the haze of the early morning fog that enveloped the coast of German–controlled France. I could see the Nazi flag waving slowly
with the ever gentle breeze. I looked down at my watch, its hands seeming to move in slow motion. It was 06:30. My company commander ordered
our assault craft forward. The boat cut through the waves, not like the blade of a chef's newly sharpened knife, but more like a small child slapping
his hand playfully against the cool water of a local swimming pool.
The boat rocked precariously back and forth with the motion of the ever changing sea. Suddenly, ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
The torrent was endless, the barbs holding me hostage, never allowing me to escape or gain any ground. My savior came when a soldier who had
just climbed over the cliff found me. He cut me free, pulling me from my jagged prison. I collapsed onto the ground, my energy completely
drained. The soldier kneeled next to me, pulling a canteen from his backpack. He touched the metal lid to my parched lips and told me to drink. I
tried asking him who he was, but before I could manage a single word, a shot rang out, reverberating off of the emplacements, and the soldier fell to
the ground with a soft thud. I drug myself over to him in agony and stared directly into his face. Laying right between his eyes was a bullet hole, a
clean shot straight through his skull. I crumpled to the ground next to him, finally realizing who the unknown soldier was. He was my own brother,
who had somehow made it to shore even after their assault craft took a direct hit to the ramp. He had given his life, just like the company commander,
to save

My Experience In Middle School
I knew that it would take some time to establish myself. While I was new to the community, I believed I would and could be successful with some
work. After all, I had done so well in middle school. And then it happened; I entered the campus filled with energy as I walked into the big brown
building. It appeared to be so extravagant, standing tall and surrounded by the bare trees. I knew what I was capable of and I told myself,"Don't let
anyone get in the way". As the first bell rung, I was worried. I took my seat at 8:15 and I already began to lose my focus. I stared at all the new faces
although I had yet to learn the names of my new peers. My staring contest was interrupted by a sheet of paper on my desk. It hauntingly said–
"SYLLABUS."
"New Girl" became my name for the next couple of months, as nobody knew what else to call me. My nickname over time seemed to be a pleasant
shortcut rather than a label, but it began to affect the way I was treated. When a teacher asked a math question, initially my confidence shot up, but
quickly fell as the class in unison flashed a confused look in my direction. I then heard comments such as " What is she talking about. " and " That's
so weird." filling the air of the room. I sighed in relief, as the teacher told me I was correct, but slipped under the desk as I was told it was not
something taught at the school. I was directed to learn a whole different way of learning, a major shift in the way I was taught for the majority of my

Creative Story: Dorko Essay
Creative Story: Dorko
One day, Dorko walks into a popular fast food joint for no other reason than that is where his feet took him. Taking haphazard bites from other
customer's food, he crookedly makes his way to the line at a cash register. Of course, the act of getting in line was a complete accident. He stares at
the menu; he stares at the employees; he stares at a man picking his pockets.
"Need help?" start Dorko, "Here, it makes things a lot easier if I just hand you my wallet. Preferably with you holding a gun to my
back so as to scare the dickens out of me. But of course, you would be easily caught in a crowded place like this. Would you like to go outside? We can
sit around in an alley until it gets dark out. We ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Well, time passes and Dorko eventually makes his way to the front of the line. "Holy Heaven have mercy," thinks the register lady aloud,
"he's back with a vengeance." "Hello amusingly sarcastic lady," says Dorko, "How goes things?"
"Hello amusingly moronic idiot. Order or get the heck out of my place of employment." "Since my stomach's arrow is starting to
point to 'E', perhaps I will commence the ordering process. Let me take a minute to think this over."
Time passes without so much as a breath. Dorko seems to be having a staring contest with the back of his hand. Suddenly Dorko continues the
conversation. "...58 ...59 ...60. Okay, where were we? Oh yeah, my order."
Let us briefly take a couple seconds out of the main story to notice that
Dorko is not wearing a watch nor does he know how to tell time. We will now proceed with the story. Sorry for the inconvenience.
"...my order. Secondly, I would like a cheeseburger, minus the cheese and sardines. Finally, you can give me a couple of blits. First, you can
give me a large. Well to drink I would like some syrup, with ketchup please."
Shaking her head in her hands, almost in tears, the lady says, "Let me get this straight. You want a cheeseburger minus the cheese and sardines,
technically a hamburger..."

"No I don't like ham, take that off too.

Breaking Gender Norms Essay
Breaking gender norms seems like taking on the impossible. Luckily, the impossible became possible. For violating a gendered norm, I choose to
stare into the eyes of people I found to be dominant and hold position in my life. Eye contact is a form of nonverbal communication that shows that
you are engaged and listening in the conversation. Also, illuminating to equality between you and the person your conversing with. Whether I knew
the person I was conversing with or not I was up for the task. I never viewed my disdain for eye contact as an act of submission to men but I have
recently learned that eye contact shows defiance against social norms and makes you look authoritive, confident and believable.
So the first question to ask is why ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
My next encounter was with an out of this world attractive guy that was on the bus. Now, this was where awkward and uncomfortable was out of
this world. Granted anytime talking to a stranger can be weird but I have tendency to take it to a next level. The first couple of minutes was a
romantic movie where we both snuck glances at each other. At this point I pulled on my big girl pants and stared this man down maybe he thought
the same thing because it was like the gold medal game of the Olympics kind of stare down. So, I thought to be bold and I winked at him and he
blushed and became shy. It was refreshing to see a guy shy it's almost unheard of. His reaction to my stares challenged social norms because his
reaction wasn't supposed to be getting shy and blushing according to society he should have smirked, laughed or maybe came and started a
conversation up with

The Formal
THE FORMAL – BY SUE MURRAY
CHARACTERS
Frank
Tatiana
Lisa
Paul
SCENE ONE – DON'T TELL ANYONE
LISA CENTERED ON STAGE, LIGHTS DIMMED, AND SPOTLIGHT ON LISA.
LISAThe formal. Apparently the hardest part of our high school lives, a night we are all suppose to remember. Well this formal has definitely scarred
me for life. All the money spent, the illegal drinking, the boys and most of all Tatiana's brother, Frank. Although of course you have not yet heard of
him or his stupid bad ass accomplishments. Let me take you back.
TATIANA AND LISA ARE SITTING IN TATIANA'S LOUNGE ROOM. TATIANA| My brother is so annoying. Every time a guy even looks at me,
he scares them away. It was so good before he came home, I got any guy I ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
| TATIANA| I know right. And I have a personal stylist, daddy paid for her and everything, so it should look even more amazing then it does right
now. Let's go get changed and figure out who I'm going to end up going with, since the last one bailed.| | LISA LAUGHS.| LISA| He didn't bail; he
broke his leg or something. Do you reckon I'd have a chance with Frank? Maybe he could buy me my alcohol for the after party. He seems to have a
thing for the grog doesn't he?| | LISA LAUGHS, TATIANA STARES AT HER AGAIN.| LISA| What? He does, you just told me.|
TATIANAAnd I said to keep it a bloody secret. Ok?
LISAFine.

Bruno Is Not Dead
ONE
Bruno is not dead. His voice still rings in my head, his scent of cacao and dirt still linger in my nose. I wish I could touch him and wrap my arms
around torso, and tell him how sorry I am. But I cannot, I am a coward. I am afraid of looking at my son. I know that he is still around, I can feel
him following me. I can feel his cold stare lurking behind me, I can feel the guilt he put upon me.
Whenever you lose something, a necklace, your keys or whatever. Everyone tells you to look in the last place you saw it. You search everywhere,
but without luck it is nowhere. The last place I was able to talk to Bruno was in my office, where I now spend the last of my crippling days.
Earlier this month I decided that there was something wrong ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
This was the same boy who would read an entire adventure book in less than a few days. This was the boy who would go on adventures all over
Berlin. This was the boy who was so full of life.
Bruno's eyes looked empty like soulless pits of gray, his body grew thinner in fact so did his face. His skin looked sick and pale and his head was still
bald. Looking at him made me weak.
Bruno almost looked like a Jew.
TWO
Every time I visited the gas chambers there Bruno sat, staring at me almost as if he wanted to tell me something. Today, I worked up the courage to go
up to Bruno and he said no words.
He just stared at me, with fear in his eyes. He looked at me the way my soldiers looked at me. He said nothing but his voice continued to occupy my
thoughts.
Swallowing the giant lump in my throat, I invited him into the house. When we did arrive Bruno went inside of the house and grabbed a blanket he
placed it on the ground in the garden and he sat down, he patted the spot next to his inviting me to sit down.
We lied down there for hours until it grew dark, Bruno refused to speak the whole time we were there he would point out clouds and constellations
but no words. We spent an hour in silence just staring at the moon. Bruno pointed at a shooting star. "Did you make a wish?" I asked. He nodded his
head.
"What did you wish for?"
He shook his head and gave a cheeky smile.
"It might be time for us to go

Descriptive Essay About School
I stared out into space after i woke from my deep slumber. I groaned being unable to fall back asleep at this point. I stood up getting dressed in the
assigned uniform from school. Hikari Academy was the name of my school, it was a nice place. But the best thing about school were my two best
friends. Alex was a fiery girl who would do anything for someone in need, Ji–Sung....well he's another story. He cares about everyone, yet he had a
weird way of showing it. He was very cold and reserved towards new people, but around Alex and I he was a totally different person. Anyway, I
soon arrived at the gigantic school, walking slowly through the school. My hand hurt from being scratched by Lumi, my cat. As I walked I felt a
chill run down my back, the hairs on my neck standing up. I felt a presence behind me as I walked through the empty hallway. I peered behind me.
Just then, I saw him. He was moving closer and closer to me. "Ji–Sung..."I breathed out looking at him. He had a smile on his face, one I'd seen plenty
of time. He stood before me, towering over me. He was 6'2 while I was merely 5'8, He was easily one of the tallest, if not the tallest in our school. I
mean he's even taller than the teachers. He reached out his hand, grabbing my own. He pulled me towards the exit of the school, which confused me.
"Sung, We've got to get to class–"I spoke quickly before getting cut off by the taller boy. "No you don't, we're leaving." He stated. 'Are we ditching
school?' I questioned in my

Annie Dialectical Journal
Annie wakes to the sharp, piercing sound of eroded metal scraping against the ground beneath her, and she opens her eyes to see Armin standing there,
accompanied by the two minions he'd brought with him the day before. "I trust you slept well?"
Annie simply glares at him, her stare steely and merciless, and Armin dismisses it, turning to the minions and saying, "Unchain her."
They exchange a look of uncertainty with each other before they step forward, eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a thin line, untrusting and wary.
Annie stifles the laugh which threatens to spill from her and keeps her gaze fixed on Armin. She notices him staring back at her, an indistinguishable
glint in his eyes, and licks her lips, tantalizing him. She can't fend ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
It's sounds confused, though Annie can't be entirely sure. She lifts her head and stares at Armin. "I'll help the Scouting Legion–it's the least I could do,
really–and then I want to be sentenced to death."
Her words hang in the air and Armin, for the first time in a long while, is rendered speechless. "Death?" He parrots.
"Now that we've negotiated it, let's go up, shall we?" Her words are a parody of Armin's earlier ones, and Armin is left perplexed as he watches her
ascend the stairs.
When Annie reaches the top of the stairs, she pauses. She listens to the slow, measured approach of the man–she can call him a man, can't she? He's no
longer the boy she used to know–behind her and waits. "I'll be behind you. You'll be fine."
She mentally shrugs, reaches for the handle and pushes. What's she to lose anyway? She's already told him she'd like to die when all of
this–everything–is over. Anybody who attacks her would be doing her a favour.
So why is it she feels an immobilising surge of anxiety when she opens the door?
Armin keeps his promise and stays behind her, and she feels oddly okay with him standing behind her, guarding

Descriptive Essay About A Dog
My story takes place in during the summer of 2015. I had just recently got back from my long trip from New York and I was finally back home after a
year. When I got home I started missing having a dog to take care of and to have around for company. Earlier in the year my older sister took the old
family dog back to her in Boston, so I suddenly felt an urge to get another dog. I knew that It was wrong to get a new dog just because I missed my
old one, but it didn't matter. I still wanted a new companion. So for the next few days I would spend most of my freetime looking up shelters all
over the internet. I would searched all over the internet for available dogs that I would have multiple bookmarks on my browser each containing a
new hopeful dog adoptee. But I couldn't find a dog that spoken to me, so as a family trip 3 of my family members all went up to salt lake city at a
adoption dog event and tried to pick out a new furry member of our family. When we got there the area was a small dog store with tons of hyper
dogs crowded into pens and cages. Each pen with a different breed of dogs just waiting to get adopted. The sounds of the room were filled with
joyful yips as the dogs tried to climb up the cages, excited to meet the new people. All except one small white dog, who sat in the corner of the pen
avoiding all interactions. In an instant everyone of my family members instantly ran to the dogs of their liking, my sister to a pair of chubby chihuahua
sisters. my brother to

Creative Writing: The Legend of the Harp Essays
I remember the day with clarity. Yet, I remember it with an ancient feel of age and a deep ache. I don't quite remember what she looked like in those
last moments, but I do remember how her blood stained the earth a beautiful crimson.
We were playing in a field, she was ranting on about how beautiful the day was, while I merely tried to walk nonchalantly back to the house so I
could hopefully get out of the blistering heat. She would spastically tug on my arm, trying to get me to move faster towards the long grass, while I
simply walked in the opposite direction, pulling her with me. She would did her heels into the soft earth, gouging it and leaving trenches behind,
exposing the deep rich soil of the underground.
We would always hang ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
His cocksure attitude seemed to actually form in the air around him. His long silver hair was pulled back into an unkempt ponytail.
I hated him already.
"Alright, my name is Sho, and if you guys don't remember it, then you all will have some troubles in the future!" The figure in question leaped down
from the box of crates he was standing on and strode, no, strutted through the crowd until he came face to face with me. He looked down in order to
meet my eyes, then swiftly grabbed my arm and started dragging me towards a more isolated part of the town.
I immediately started struggling as I was sure that I looked like a fool. Unfortunately, all my struggling did was kick up dust and cause the beet blush
to spread farther up my neck.
I was jolted from my embarrassed stupor when the silver haired fiend dumped me onto the stone path.
Glaring angrily at him, I dusted off my pants and choppily stood up.
"You know what it's like, don't you."
I looked up to meets Sho's gaze. Surprisingly, instead of the arrogant, cocksure look he held before, Sho held an expression of deep pain and longing.

"Pardon?"
Sho sighed and ran his hand through his ponytail. "You have lost someone close to you."
I opened my mouth for a rebuttal, but was cut off by Sho. "Don't try to deny it! I can see it. He gestured to my face, "It

Everlasting : A Short Story
Everlasting
"Honey, I'm done packing the stuff!" My mom called from the car. She left the door swinging wide open, so it was easy for me to hear her. I threw
in my clothes and just about everything I owned into my three suitcases. "What am I forgetting? I know there's something I'm missing." I muttered
to myself. Crap. All my toiletries. All of them. I raced to the bathroom and grabbed the bag barely noticing it. "Coming!" I shouted, practically
jumping down three, four steps at a time. "Oh, sweetie. You look gorgeous." My mom cooed. I looked down at my yellow, short, summer dress
with pink, red, and, orange flowers on it. I gave her a smile. We plopped into the car seats and got all situated. Mom started the engine, but didn't step
on the pedal. Meh, probably getting ready. I looked over at her, and saw silent streams of tears. Not this, no, no, no, no. Not this. Not now. Ithought.
"Mom...." I trailed off, not wanting to hurt her. She looked at me. "What would your father think of this? If he saw us now?" She fell to another
round of torturing, painful, tears. I couldn't bear it. Yet, all I did was plug in my earbuds and stare out the window. I thought about my father. The
night we got the news. It hit us harder than a punch in the face. The day that he died. A plane crash. Exactly one year ago. 9/11. All the words came
rushing and I tried to swallow but something wouldn't go down. The tears still sting every time I think about

Short Story
When Dylan heard Eric's car pull out of the driveway, he sparked an idea.
Since he knew there was an memorial, seeing it and hearing about it, he wondered if their crosses were up. Or anything to remember them. Probably
not, knowing how the world saw these two teenage killers. He didn't think they would put up anything for them since they killed thirteen innocent
people. Society doesn't take those things lightly.
With some curiosity still in him, he wanted to see the memorial himself. He could only picture what it looked like.
With one step out of the door, he took a deep breath and looked around if anyone spotted him in his more normal clothes and sunglasses on. Wearing a
trench coat would give even more away already that it was one of ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Going back to reality, he looked over to the side and saw a woman walking over to the memorial, her head down and not noticing him. Her hair was
a light grey, it looked white in a bright light, she wore a formal black jacket over a turquoise shirt. Dress pants and flats that matched the color of her
jacket. She looked too formal for this, as if she just stepped out of a meeting and decided to come here after work.
Dylan kept staring at her, feeling a pull towards the older woman. It was until she looked up, he then knew who she was. The facial features looked
somewhat like how she use to look in his memory, but tears started to escape his eyes as he kept staring at her.
His heart raced as he didn't notice how close she really was to him. He put the cross into his pocket, trying his best to hide it, and walked away as
quickly as he could. To hope that his mother wouldn't know it was him.
When he arrived home, Eric still wasn't there, but the tv was on.
How long was I out?
Dylan guessed that Eric might've stopped over and then left, accidently leaving the tv on. But the tv could've been a sign, because when he went into
the living room, his mother's face was on the tv.
How? Wasn't she right there at the memorial?
All of his attention was towards the tv, not caring if any tears escaped his eyes and stained his cheeks.
His mother started to answer a question regarding if she ever saw his spirit or anything

Shot Story: Drip Drip Drip
Water leaking from the tap every so often. She walked into the kitchen, trying her best to see through the dark with the dusty old curtains blocking
out the light. The room is dark but just a slight glow was emanating from the window as the cheerful laughs bounced off the white, snow covered
walls, which are now covered with a crimson red, silky liquid; Blood. She having been told, like every other solider, to always compare and
contrast the happening outside and that of what is going on in this very room, a sign to know you surrounding, no matter what. But here inside
something far more worse was going on. She slowly walked into the living room, holding the door frame for support. The bitter taste of misery
lingered on the tip of her tongue. devastation and despair was the only thing that kept on raging within me. Her room. He destroyed it. The man
across the room glared at the her. A evil glare. Nothing else, but she could feel her pulse beating in her ears to the that raggedly breathing moving in
and out of her mouth. She found that he was still glaring.All she wanted was to take her eyes of him and run, and yet for some reason she could not
take her eyes away from him.' Like father, Like daughter'. The stare down continued, it was as if one broke the connection...... if it was to be borken
they'd both die she was certain of that the moment he walked in. She couldn't control her hands; they were beating in time with her heart, an odd
trembling rhythm. The colour left

Essay about House of a Loving Friend
House of a Loving Friend
My eyes were half shut as drool brimmed on my lips about to escape any minute and drip onto the desk. Mr. Johnson didn't seem to notice, and
lectured on in his steady monotone voice. A piece of paper landed on my desk, which snapped me back to reality causing me to slurp up the excess
liquid on my lips. The paper was a note from Keli. That seemed to be all we ever did in Philosophy, write notes. I opened it and peered down at her
neat, smooth handwriting. "What's wrong?" was what I found staring back at me. I frowned at the question asking myself the same thing. The day had
been terrible, and for what reason I was unsure. I was unhappy and wanted to get away. I wanted to go somewhere where happiness overflowed ... Show
more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I pulled the door back and jumped inside; the warmth I felt in my heart grew stronger.
Within seconds, I was gathered in the arms of a plump old woman while her words floated up to me, "Well, there's my girl!" I smiled and pulled
back from the embrace, staring down at the woman who had come to be my second grandma. She was 80, rather over weight, and short wavy
gray–white hair sat atop a round face. Small, beady wide spread gray–green eyes smiled at me with a cheerful light and a pudgy nose crinkled above
thin pale lips. I looked at her and saw the love in her eyes. I smiled and knew that there was no where else I needed to be.
Being in Ella's house always seemed to bring a peace to my soul and warmth to my heart. There was nothing unusual about the house except for all
the animals hanging on the walls that seemed to peer at you through hollow eyes. Ella had every kind of animal you could dream of. Chipmunks,
foxes, a bear, a mountain lion, a raccoon, a crab, and many more stared, frozen in mid–stride. I remember as a child feeling like I had walked into a
taxidermy shop, and the memory of spending the night flashed through my mind, causing my lips to curl with a smile. I had been scared to death and
had not slept much. All those eyes had held me in a fierce grip of terror! Now, I never even noticed the glassy eyes that glared

Mikey: A Fictional Narrative
"I don't understand," I said finally after Samantha finished her babbling, "why do you care so much about him? He's such a douche." Samantha had
been declaiming this week's crush, Mikey Smith. I could never understand why she marvels at him, though, he's a lousy excuse for a person.
According to Sam, he's only obscene and a sadist in school, but outside of his popular clique, he's an artist who knows how to appreciate true beauty.
It's all rubbish, in my opinion. Mikey just wants her to make bad choices.
"But Irie," she refuted, "he's so attractive," she exaggerated the "o" to prove her point.
"He is revolting," I reply, disgusted, "and it's not like he'll still appeal to you by the end of the week, so discontinue your little fantasy and take down
your Mikey Shrine, I will hear no more of Mikey Smith!"
"Whatever," she laughed, "I have to take my brother to soccer practice, see you tomorrow."
"Bye," I sigh, "but I'm serious about Mikey, do not get attached to him," I click the red "end conversation" button before she has a chance to reply
and place my phone on the table by my bed. Sam's a lot to deal with sometimes, but I still love her. Glancing at the red numbers blinking the time next
to where I placed my phone, I sigh. 6:02. I anticipate the day's end even though it is merely dinner time. Laying on my ... Show more content on
Helpwriting.net ...
My mind wanders and disobeys me and I try to beckon Sleep to lie with me for a change. As usual, Sleep doesn't care for me and leaves me to deal
with my mind alone, which is terrifying. I remember when Sleep would always be at my beck and call, helping me deal with anything as I stared into
his pure, crystal blue eyes. Eyes that carried me into the deep unconscious euphoria where even dreams couldn't taint me with their foul touch. But
instead of staring into those beautiful blue eyes, I find myself staring into endless black pits in a pale skull framed with ratty black

A Brief Summary Of Wonder By R. J. Palacio
Title: Wonder Author: R.J Palacio Pages: 310
1.Characters– August (Auggie) Pullman is a 11–year old boy and was born with a facial deformity. Because of the deformity, he was prevented from
not going to a public school, until now. He is a new student and he is going to make sure people know that he is a kid that is just like others. Julian
is a boy in August's class, and he causes a bunch of trouble. He thinks he is the best and pleasing person ever, but actually everyone hates him. He
is always saying rude things. Summer is a girl in August's grade, and she has blond hair. She is on the popular side of the grade. She has a kind heart
and is super friendly. Jack is also a boy who is in August's class. He... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Plot– The first main point of the story is when August is heading to school, and he mentions about his disorder called Craniofacial Anomaly. That is
when your facial bones developed differently. The next main point is when August goes to school and people are already making strange comments,
staring at him, and won't sit by him. Throgh out the year he finds out his friends are not truly his friends because they have been told to be nice to him
by the princible. Another big event is when people realize that August is the same as everyone else.
7. Resolution– At the end of the year, August is on top of the world, and he is so so so happy. Everyone has made him feel normal, and make him
feel like himself. Everything is going his way. At the graduation for fifth graders, August receives the "Student of the year" award. He couldn't have
been happier, and everyone loves him.
8. Connections– August made me think of my cousin Mason. Mason has Spina Bifida, and he is not able to walk. August didn't have that, but when he
said he was always getting stared at that's was when I thought of my cousin. Whenever I am with him I always feel like people are just staring at
him. I feel awful for the people who get stared at because I know they don't like it. Mason cannot use his left hand and has numberless struggles in life,
but he can always work them out. This book immediately made me think of

Earl The Grumpy Pupy Research Paper
The so–called world's grumpiest cat may have officially met her match: 'Earl the Grumpy Puppy'. Five–month–old Earl caught the internet's attention
when his owner, Iowa resident Derek Bloomfield, posted peevish–looking photos of him on Reddit. It did not take long before the online community
shared their own views about the disgruntled looks of the second generation puggle or a pug and beagle mixed breed. One of the most highly rated
comments was from a user named grundo1561, who said, "This dog looks like he pays taxes." The scowling pup was also an instant celebrity on
Imgur, amassing more than 2.2 million views as of posting. One user, JewsQueersAndEskimosINeverReallyCaredFor, wrote one of the most upvoted
comments, saying that Earl

Creative Writing: Elie Wiesel's Night-Personal Narrative
Nino stared at me the whole entire time as Eli and I ate the food. I'm not talking about him just looking at us. I'm talking about a real stare down
that you can feel at the back of your head someone staring hard. When I do lock eyes with Nino he wouldn't look away he would try to hold my
gaze for as long as he can, as if he's trying to talk to me through he's eyes like I would understand. Eli never left my side again after finding him with
Marie by accident. Marie been shooting glares at me if she wants me to start something so she can probably kick me out or something. Whenever she
would try to talk down on me, I would kill her with kindness. Eli would sometimes be shock at my behavior and kept asking me if he should to talk to
her about... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
"Never that momma." He says kissing her cheeks. Momma E turns to me, smiling to me as she came closer hugging me like I was one of her
own. "I hope my baby don't scare you off now, I want you to come back so we can actually talk." "Off course Momma E." I smile to her as we
finish embracing. I turn to Eli as he guides us towards the exit. All I can think is how everything went down tonight. Nino telling me he loves is
just fill with bullshit to me. Marie confronting Eli that her baby might be Eli's is heart breaking. I'm waiting for us to get home so we can talk it
out about this party. I hope Eli tells me about what happen between him and Marie, because that will tell me if he's really into me, if he really
wants a relationship with me. "Did you enjoy yourself?" Eli says once we get ourselves inside the car. "Yeah, it was actually good, I enjoy myself." I
told him honestly as he starts the car to reverse. "I'm glad you like it. My momma was being too aggressive with you, especially when she made you
pray over the

Creative Story : A Short Story
It was quiet on the sea that day. Juana sat with her firstborn in her arms, and watched the clear water. The sea was a mirror that day, and as she
looked down into the blue she saw her own face staring back. Worry was present in her eyes, as she continued staring down, hoping for a glimpse of
anything other than herself. Waves lapped at the canoe, slowly rocking the boat back and forth, causing Coyotito to still in her arms. She glanced
down to check the infant was still breathing, simply to satisfy the brief thought in her head that he had stilled forever, before closing her eyes. Her
face was set rigid as she sat, wishing for luck from the god's hands. From God's hands. Whichever would help her son first. Juana had always
believed luck was a fickle thing. Sometimes luck was simple and easy helping without even having been asked for. But that was not how luck was
most of the time. For when you really needed luck, you become desperate leading to your worries taking control and trying to tear luck from the
god's hands by itself. Kino had been diving for over two minutes, but she wasn't worried. She knew he could survive holding his breath for a long
time, not only because of his strength but because of his pride. Kino took pride in everything he did, and everything he had, and Juana knew she was
lucky to have a husband that wanted to provide for her and Coyotito and would risk his entire being for them. Ahand reached over the side of the canoe
and dropped a single oyster

Perspective Of A Fallen Star
Perspective of a fallen star I stood on my corner, the cold air brushing my exposed legs and stomach. I swung around a stop sign, my hand holding
the cold metal. I then walked back to my position beside the traffic light. The cars drove by, slowing down slightly but not coming to a full stop. I
smiled at each one as if they were potential clients. A last a car came to a halt beside the corner and I approached the window, leaning over. As I
did this, I looked back at upon my life... What had gone wrong? What had taken me to this point in my life? I didn't have much time to think before
the man got a closer look at my drug abused face. He didn't even give me time to push off from the car, he just drove away sending me spinning
from the car. After the incident with the man driving off, it made me reflect further on my life... I thought about when I used to be a star, a
household name for god sake! I loved that time in my life, the fans, the money, the fame, my very own tv show, it was such a rush. But I had to
mess it all up, I had to ruin it. It only took one mistake and I was out of the TV business. Turns out the big networks don't like drug abusing
teenagers for their shows. Who would have thought... After a few hours of hopeless pacing and flaunting, a familiar car slowed down beside the
sidewalk I was on. A tall man wearing a black hoodie emerged from the car and wrapped his hand around my throat. As I struggled for breath I looked
up to the man 's face and

Gothic Horror Story : Gothic'scary StoryTheme Terror
Gothic "scary story" Theme Terror
The place I had stumbled in was quiet. Very quiet; so quiet that I could hear the groans of war 20 miles to the east. The place was a large castle,
which looked as if it had been abandoned in a siege. The castle was dead and it felt as if it had been a hundred years since it had seen a human
being. I went in with extreme caution; if anyone saw me, they would kill me. I went inside the castle and saw not a man, not a statue, not even a
figure; I saw nothing. Nothing was there; the room was empty and silent. No sound fell upon my ears. It terrified me.
My morbid curiosity led me to further venture into the depths of the complex, but all I found in this castle was nothing. Nothing in the halls. Nothing
in the rooms. Not even a Cobweb in sight. It was as if the world and all its earthen creatures had not only abandoned this place but also avoided it for
all its maddening Isolation. The nothingness consumed me for an eternity. There was nowhere to go and nowhere to be. I had lost all knowledge of
my location. On my way, I had not found one window.
I had to yell out or scream. I did. I had called for my loved ones who I knew were safe at home in Sussex. I ran. I ran until I could not run anymore. All
I saw were blue bricks and a wooden ceiling rushing past. I was tired and all I could do was fall down on the floor. I stared at the ceiling. Waiting to die.
Then when what felt like hours had gone by I heard a faint tapping in the walls. It is as if

Personal Narrative On Closet
Dark at two "For the last time Brent, there is nothing in that closet.There never has been and there never will. Just go to bed. And I will not leave the
light on in the hall. You are fourteen, grow up." My parents never seem to understand my fear of the dark, and of my closet. They tell me over and
over that there is nothing in that closet. They think I am too old to be afraid of something like that. When I tell them that things get changed in my room
at night they never seem to believe me either. I have taken pictures of my stuff before I go to bed, and then taken pictures of it in the morning,
evidence that my stuff has been moved, and they still don't believe me. Tonight is just another one of those nights. I guess mom had a bad day because
she is really ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
I speedily ran back to my room. I donned my slippers and my winter coat, and placed a winter cap on my head. I grabbed my massive flashlight and
headed out of the door. I happened to look at my clock and stopped dead in my tracks. The clock read 2 o'clock on the mark. I stood there, dazedly
staring at the clock. I turned the light on in my room and ran out into the hallway. I ran through the entire house flipping on lights madly looking for
anything I could find. There was nothing, absolutely nothing that would help me find my mom. I ran out onto the porch and stared out into the
pitch black night. What was happening? I walked to the edge of the clearing that our house sat on and followed the driveway for awhile. Suddenly
my flashlight died and I found myself totally enclosed in darkness. I began to shake. I walked forward, or what I thought was forward, until I
tripped and fell. I groped around and found that I was completely surrounded by trees. I got up and walked back the way I thought I had come. I
tripped again and tore my pants. I got back up and stumbled like this in the dark for what seemed like an eternity. I wandered for what seemed like
hours. Suddenly I heard a sound. I stopped dead

Short Story : Will Have Trend Too Much Red
SHE HAD NEVER seen so much red. Normally, the sight of the crimson liquid would scare others into hyperventilation, but the bold color seemed to
calm the girl as it flowed down her hands, sticking in between her fingers.
She stared in awe as her father gurgled and choked, his eyes bulging and staring right at her. His hands clasped across his throat, desperately trying to
stop the blood from spilling out of his body.
He wanted to scream, to let someone know that he was dying, but his vocal coords were ripped and bleeding. So he had no other choice but to slowly
fade away in pain, the only thing he could see being his young daughter and his own blood.
She seemed to be in a trance at the amount of liquid that seemed to escape from his ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
She shoved herself off of the sink and slowly started to discard of her clothing. The sticky clothes smeared more blood on herself as she took them off,
and she threw them in the sink. She looked to the shower.
She turned on the cold water, stepping inside and letting the water wash off the blood. As the water hit her face with harsh splats, she closed her eyes
and let her mind fog over.
Her mind filled with thoughts that terrified her; what if she was caught? What if they found out what she had done, and floated her for her crimes? The
sudden thoughts caused the girl to shudder.
She washed the blood from her body as she devised a plan in her head.
She would have to do whatever it took to survive.
Stepping out of the shower after she cleaned herself off, she shuffled to her bathroom, climbing on top of her metal toilet and propping open the air
vent. Inside was a small backpack, filled with her belongings she had packed whenever she needed to escape her father's brutal hands.
She changed quickly and went back to the sink.

Her plan was finished in her mind as she washed the bloody clothes in the sink. The vile liquid splattered everywhere, so the girl made sure to clean it
all up, to scrape it from the bottom of her fingernails.
They could never find out it was her.
Before she left, she made sure to pick up her knife next to her father's body.
As she scrambled through the air vent, the girl felt a swirling darkness in the pit of her stomach, flowing

Erykah Alternate Ending
Erykah stared at the old cottage with a catatonic glaze in her eye from the backseat of a cab car. It's been raining all morning and the usually sandy
trail was now muddled and she was really dreading lugging her suitcase all the way to the house. This used to be her piece of paradise but she
knew this summer it would definitely be more of a prison, a place shes been exiled to while the papers are finalized. It's been a year since her
parents told her they were getting a divorce and it's taken that entire time to split up all the belongings and properties and this is what she was
given. This little segment of beach and ocean and of course the cottage, spending her summer here by herself is definitely more appealing than
staying with her mother while she "finds her groove again". She never really understood why her parents bought this little house they could barely
stand to be around each other in the city; Erykah's not sure why they ever thought this property would make things better. "Do you need any help
with your bags miss?" The cab driver asked and Erykah just shakes her head no she only has one bag. The rest of her stuff is packed in boxes at her old
house waiting to... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
The heat made Erykah feel sticky all of her clothes stuck to her skin. It's not the worst thing especially when she takes off her shirt and shorts
opting to sunbathe in her bathing suit instead. Its calming, sitting on the lawn chair with her eyes closed and listening to the ocean. There's no one
else on the beach, its completely secluded and separated from everything and everyone. She dozes off to the sounds of the waves crashing against
the shore. She wakes up several hours later her skin now a deep bronze, at least on her front any way she realizes she'll have to sleep on her stomach
tomorrow. She spares a moment to look out at the ocean. That's when she sees him, a swimmer staring at him. He's next to the buoy bobbing up and
down in plain

Ralph Lauren Legacy
Princeton University. He had spent practically his whole life working towards getting here. His whole family was a legacy at that school, going back
to his great–great–grandfather. Growing up, there was no question of where he would get his education. The approval and acceptance of his parents
depended on him getting into this school. All through high school, he had had near–perfect attendance, been vice president of the student council,
maintained a pretty solid social life, spent his weekends racking up volunteer hours, and somehow managed to keep a 4.0 GPA. Of course he
would get into Princeton. He was unusually jittery that morning, but who could blame him? He threw on his nicest dress shirt, a navy sweater vest,
and a pair of kaki pants. He ran his fingers through his black hair and ran over his appearance in the mirror, landing on his piercing blue eyes. He
was attending an Ivy League university on a full scholarship, (not that his family would have any sort of trouble paying for hit tuition out of pocket)
so he may as well look the part. He was used to the best of the best. Ralph Lauren over Target, Rolls–Royce over Honda; He expected nothing less. In
his mind, if you didn't... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
Back in high school, all he took were honors and AP classes. He had graduated in the top 5 percent in his class, and was confident in acing all of his
courses here. The room started to fill up, and he felt someone shifting into the chair beside him. Subtly glancing over, he was surprised with what he
saw. This person was obviously of a lower class than he was, sporting worn–out jeans, a scuffed up pair of leather boots, and a frayed plaid button–up.
His light brown/blonde hair was un–kept and, to be honest, he looked like he belonged behind the counter of a gas station. The boy took out his
notebook and started working at the problems on the

Short Story : The Great Gatsby
The Buchanan's mansion beckoned as they arrived back, exiting Gatsby's yellow car Daisy cried her eyes out as she was left feeling uneasy with the
murder. She stumbled through the burning garden and up the side of the bright vines, making her way to the stone bench. She sat down, glanced at
Gatsby and towards the green light. Daisy stood up, staring into Gatsby's elegant blue eyes. Daisy stumbled towards the door and tripped catching a
step with her foot. Gatsby attempted to aid her, but is rejected by Daisy's delicate hand.
"Daisy, darling, everything's going to be fine, just trust me" Gatsby reassured her. "Oh, Jay isn't this enough? can I please go inside." Daisy stressed.
"What's eating you? Darling, you must come with me."
Gatsby waited calmly outside as if something had consumed him, his love for Daisy had driven him insane. He waited outside passively, Gatsby
gazed at the flashing green light at the bay. He finally realized his dream was just at his grasp before he is interrupted by the echoing sound of
Tom's coupe as it pulled up on the drive way. Tom's arrival along with Jordan and Nick caught Gatsby's attention and brought anger in his eyes as he
marched back and forth thinking of Tom's plans for Daisy. Tom who seemed like a man on a mission, proceeded to make his way up the steps which
lead to his exquisite mansion. After Jordan's departure, he continued as he entered his prodigious kitchen calling Daisy down for dinner.
Daisy dragged herself towards the

The Story Of A Bad Dream : A Short Story
I walk up with a start sweating heavily and breathing hard. I look over at my sister to make sure she was alright, I then let out the breath I was
holding "thank god it was just a bad dream". The clock on the bed side table reads 4:00, great might as well just start getting ready. I then head to
the bathroom to do my morning routine and take a shower. After I was done with everything in the bathroom the clock reads 5:30 so I decide just
to wake up my sister. I nudge her and all she does is rolls over, so I then pulled her blanket off of her and she whispers "five more minutes", I just laugh
and pull her off the bed, she then starts yelling at me so I take that as the sign to leave the room and see if my parents are up.
After I shut the hotels room slowly I start walking down the hallway quietly to make sure I wake up no one still sleeping. As I was walking I saw the
janitor looking at me while I walk past him I couldn't tell if he was mad or just rude but he kept giving me glares. I then walk a little faster just so I
didn't have to look at him anymore, but as a walked faster I noticed his eyes were changing colors as he keeped glaring at me. Once I reach my parents
hotel room that was down the hallway I knock and wait patiently at the door. The door opens about a minute later with my dad standing there.,
"Perfect I was just about to head down there to see if you guys were up". Are you guys ready to head down for breakfast in the hotel lobby before we
head out. I laugh,

Short Story
It was Christmas Eve day in London, England 2015 and Baltimore was in a staring with his cat Shawlings. "Blast!!!" he called out. "You've beaten
me once again in another staring contest, Shawlings. I don't know how you do it". Shawlings starred as Baltimore hopped off of his bed to get his
phone and text his all–time and only best friend Sebastian. Baltimore: Hey, Bastian, you wanna come over now?... He noticed that Sebastian hadn't
texted back as fast as usual. He looks over to Shawlings. "He isn't texting back like he usually does, Shawlings... Oh well I guess I'll just call him in
about five minutes" he said; jumped onto the bed to continue his staring contest with Shawlings.
There were about three minutes before Ms.Everwhitt, his ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
She froze, seeing that Baltimore was completely still with tears streaming down his face, for he just read his best friend's suicide letter to him.
It is now February 14, 2016, and has been two months since Baltimore's "Nightmare before Christmas" and he's had to go to two therapists who never
seemed to help one way or another. He had been depressed quite a bit but today it was much worse and that was mostly because Sebastian always
had some joke about being single on Valentines Day, but not this year, or any to come. The school day was basically the same since the first day back
he would walk in feeling nothing but sad and walk out feeling the same. But little did he know the students, teachers and principal Bellwether had been
noticing his great depression.
As he walked out of school he felt a pain in his chest and almost fell because of it. He felt this pain for the rest of the time it took him to walk home
and so on. He had finished all of his homework by now and was ready to get in the shower for another sleepless night. He walks into the bathroom
and look at himself and noticed how pale he had gotten and stared for a few minutes. He heard his mother walking by and turned his head to look at
her but as soon as he did, his eyes went to the ceiling and everything went completely black. It had been like that for a while, or so he thought.
There was a faint beeping that grew a little louder every beep. Baltimore was concentrating on the beeping

Alice's Death: A Narrative Fiction
"Alice is pretty... Alice is smart... Alice is dead." I've heard the same voice several times before. The doctors were convinced it was a standard
hallucination caused by grief. However, I never knew Alice. There was no reason for me to grieve. There was no reason for her death to keep me
looking over my shoulder. She was just another face in the hallways. Yet, her sudden murder was never solved.
Everybody figured it was her psychotic uncle, but it was never proven true. We all just moved on. Even though Alice was gone, the world never
stopped moving. I pulled my jacket closer to my body and hastened my pace as a shiver made its way down my spine. I couldn't help but to risk a
glance over my shoulder only to see teens gathered in circles, ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
"Where am I?" I instead inquired.
"Oh me, oh my!" he shouted, waving his hands around excessively. "Why, you're in wonderland! The land of wonder! The wonder of land!"
"I'm going crazy." I stated, leaning back in the chair.
"Indeed. You're entirely bonkers." My eyebrows rose at that. "But I'll tell you a secret, all the best people are." His unnecessarily wide grin was
beginning to creep me out more than anything else.
"I just want to go home." I whined, quickly growing irritated and stressed. His smile soon faded. I found that his straight face was far more terrifying
than his smiling face.
"Nevins," he called, turning to the rabbit. "Who exactly is our guest?" He stared at me suspiciously.
"Um..." the rabbit–human thing hesitated. "She may or may not have come from the Otherland. The queen and her minions are searching for her. We
need to help her!"
The entire table went silent as the man in the top hat froze, then chuckled crazily as he stared at me. A teapot fell to the ground and shattered. "Get her
out of my tea party. Now."

Creative Writing: Night Of The Living Dead Drug Store
What awoke him was the smell. A spicy, strong scent, one that reminded you of autumn nights and apple cider. It filled his room and he opened his
eyes at the strange intrusion. He would know that smell anywhere. The smell of cinnamon flavored gum. The flavor that made your mouth feel like it
was on fire and sometimes left your eyes watering. The gum that nobody ever wanted at the drug store, the one kept in a dark, red box with cinnamon
sticks decorating the sides. The scent filled his head, a smell that marked so many memories in his life, covered the corners of his mind. Frank's gum.
It had first been introduced when he and Frank had been teenagers, the small sticks of gum used to mask the smell of smoke from Frank's mom. Frank
had first ... Show more content on Helpwriting.net ...
"Remember when you and Frank snuck out that one night? I think you guys were like, sixteen and I was fourteen, and I followed you both. You guys
wanted to go to that one gig or whatever, but then you caught me sneaking around in the shadows. Remember that?" Mikey said with a hint of a real
smile.
Gerard's blank look didn't crack, but his eyes lost a bit of their glassy look. His face then curved into the smallest smile. "Yeah," He said with a
breathy laughed. "I was so pissed when I found you behind those trash cans. Frank thought it was the funniest thing, for whatever reason." He took a
sip from his coffee. "I kept yelling at you to go back because we wouldn't be able to get into the gig with you and Frank just kept laughing," He said,
his smile growing. Frank's laugh echoed in his ears.
"I was going to tell mom if you didn't let me come," He said. "You looked like you were ready to kill me," Mikey laughed and shook his head. Gerard
let out a breathy chuckle. He remembered that night vividly, especially Frank. It was one of those many memories that stuck out in his

Descriptivetive Of The Beast : Personal Narrative : The Beast
The Beast
It was and endless repetition of when we jump dog bites our feet through the tramp. When out of nowhere the dog jumps on. Uh! Oh! We all
thought. They all huddled together and I was face to face with the growling beast. It felt like it was slow motion. My friends moving like a snail
towards each other each step louder and slower than the other. I saw them look towards me and their smile was changing. What was it changing into?
Oh no their face looked worried. Scared to turn my head in the direction they were staring at it was Brooklyn's dog. He was flying through the air. His
feet one by one landed on the tramp, and making the tramp scream as if he was a roller coaster making people scream. There standing was the beast. I
felt like it was a stare down. Neither one of us dared to blink and then the dog blinked. When he was barely going to close his eye I decided to move a
little away from where he was staring. He noticed he hurried and opened his eyes. He lunged forward towards me. Then BOOM!!!! I was tackled
by the dog. I immediately went into a ball. As scared as I was I couldn't let my friend's dog hurt me. "OW!!" I shouted from the top of my lungs.
Then all I saw was blood.... One blazing hot summer day I was walking down the street to my friends house to jump on her super bouncy tramp. I had
just arrived at her two story blue house when I heard them jumping on the tramp, so I decided to knock (her gate doesn't open). I knocked and then

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