Wait a second!
More handpicked essays just for you.
More handpicked essays just for you.
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Today’s a special day. The number 4 comes to my head. I can still feel his hands wrapped around my neck. The sharp pain that was felt could not be forgotten. I still have the scar lining up in my neck. Who knew that dying could be so calm. The darkness grew little by little. The firing feel I felt when the sharp blade cut through my neck. I felt my eyes start to shut and his face was the last thing I ever saw. Who knew that my life would come to an end like this. I never saw it coming. This all happened 4 years ago.
I can still remember where I was that particular day. I was finishing packing my belongings when I received the first message. I hear my phone buzz and I hurry to find it. But to no surprise, I couldn’t locate it. My room was a mess due to the massive amount of belongings that were scattered all
…show more content…
He sets down my boxes and reaches to tap my shoulder. He says, “Well, I guess I’ll leave you so you can get situated.” I nod and thank him. He adds on, “It was nice meeting you. Maybe we can get some ice cream sometime.” I become silent and shake my head. A sad looks appears on his face and then a mad face replaced the other face. I then say, “I’m sorry Cody, but I just.” He cuts me off and then exclaims, “You’ll regret this!” He turns around and slams the door as he leaves. I wanted to run after him, but I decided to let him leave. I didn’t want to argue with him. I begin to unpack my boxes. Before I knew it, I was laying down on my bed sleeping. I wake up to the sound of my door being knocked on. I get up and head to the door. I open the door and I see a short man with what looked like a basket full of pastries and candy with a card attached to it. The man asks, “Are you Courtney?” I nod my head and he hands me the big basket. I close my door and set the basket on top of one of boxes. I reach over for the small card and open it. I proceeded to read the note in the
That night:Tonight I am hoping he doesnt come back in here so I dont have to deal with it but he came.And with him was most likely nothing but trouble.I sat silently on my bed as he creaked that door open.I am planning on staying still until he leaves.But he sat there still opening it,centimeter by centimeter,my guess was he thought he was being
The sniper stared at his brother’s dead body. Remorse fell throughout his whole body and all of his senses numbed. As the morning sun started to glimmer through the sky, he looked up and laughed. His remorse laugher turning into tears as his senses started to work out what happen. He cursed everything, the war, himself, his memories, anything he could. The sniper question himself, ” Why? This is what war should be like and I have done this to a million others, but why does this one painfully death pains so much?”
Everyone thinks that war is terrible, but those who experience first hand know what it is truely like. Soldiers know how it feels to have someone’s blood on their hands; they know the feel of holding a gun. Let me tell you how it feels when you have to end the life of a person you don’t know. It feels like you have the weight of the world crashing down on your shoulders. I do not know why you are are reading this and if I will be dead when you do, but I want you to know that it is not a joke. Everything that I mention in this journal happened to me, a simple man from Vermont, named Robert Gray. This is what happened to me in the Civil War.
middle of paper ... ... As I reached to pull the covers back over myself, I heard something brush against paper, and metal rings pressed into my arm. Cautiously reaching with my hand, I pulled out a notebook, open to the first page, with a pen slipped in the spiral ring. On the page was written the following: “Thought you might need these!
The boy reached for his blanket and covered half of his face in fear. The footsteps continued, getting louder every step. “It’s just mom and dad” he told himself. “No need to worry.” Footsteps were heard getting closer and closer to his room door. LOUD but slow, fear was uprising into the young boy’s heart. Suddenly they stopped and started going away.
He told me he'd be back at ten. It was already midnight. I was worried about him but more curious as to what he was doing right now. I decided it was time to find out. I crept out the apartment like a spider in the shadows, trying my hardest not to disturb
I would shut my eyes because I knew what was coming. And before I shut my eyes, I held my breath, like a swimmer ready to dive into a deep ocean. I could never watch when his hands came toward me; I only patiently waited for the harsh sound of the strike. I would always remember his eyes right before I closed my own: pupils wide with rage, cold, and dark eyebrows clenched with hate. When it finally came, I never knew which fist hit me first, or which blow sent me to my knees because I could not bring myself to open my eyes. They were closed because I didn’t want to see what he had promised he would never do again. In the darkness of my mind, I could escape to a paradise where he would never reach me. I would find again the haven where I kept my hopes, dreams, and childhood memories. His words could not devour me there, and his violence could not poison my soul because I was in my own world, away from this reality. When it was all over, and the only thing left were bruises, tears, and bleeding flesh, I felt a relief run through my body. It was so predictable. For there was no more need to recede, only to recover. There was no more reason to be afraid; it was over. He would feel sorry for me, promise that it would never happen again, hold me, and say how much he loved me. This was the end of the pain, not the beginning, and I believed that everything would be all right.
When I received this phone call, I was at dinner with friends. I was in immediate shock; you never know what to expect when your phone rings. This was one of the biggest incidents to take place in awhile. I was rushing getting into my car. During an unexpected incident like this, I had to think of my initial
glory days. i look back at old pictures of me and ask myself what happened to that girl. the girl who was always laughing and was always so happy. the girl who did not know that war wasn't just a card game, and race issues weren't just about who ran the farthest, when getting high meant a swing on the playground and my dads shoulders were the safest place on earth, the worst pain you would ever feel was when u skinned your knees on the sidewalk, and goodbyes only meant until tomorrow, and i thought growing up would be fun. i cant remember the last time i was as happy as i was when i was five years old and chasing butterflies in my front lawn in the house i grew up in . when me and my sister would take baths together and my mom would braid my
It was a normal Memorial Day weekend in 2017. My family went to our house in Sea Isle City and we were all getting ready for a good summer. I brought my buddy Evan down for the first time and we were having a great time; fishing, boating, and going to the beach. One of our other friends, Cole, was down with his family, and we all met up one night. Evan's girlfriend (at the time), Tori, was also down in Sea Isle with her friends from school.
“Actually, I’m okay with that. I made a mistake, because I’m only human right? So I got to own up to my shit.” I respond to him. I didn’t yell at him; I know he must be shock by my response.
The shrill cries of my alarm echo across vermilion painted walls, stirring my consciousness into an aware state. It is precisely eight o’clock on a warm summer Monday; the distant cries of mockingbirds can be heard above the soft whirring of cars passing our genteel residential street. My ears scan the house; it is quiet – barely a sound other than the tinkling of tags as our pets navigate the living room. The still morning air brought realization, with no children running around Mother must have already left for work. Never leaving my lax position I stretch and sigh, it is nice to not have to baby-sit my sister’s kids – my nieces and nephew – but I do miss the mornings where my mother would still kiss me goodbye.
I finally convince myself that I can not let go of John because I never took the chances I had to tell him that he was special to me. He died earlier than anyone thought he would, and I knew him. This was supposed to happen to other people, but it is happening to me.
Eight months ago, January 11th at 7:48pm to be exact, was the best day of my life. The day I’ve been waiting for since early 2009, when I was only 13 years old. That dream of mine, I shared with someone very close to me. The faces on me and my best friend was unimaginable, expressing all the emotions one could possibly express. Our eyes were watery from happiness and nervous laughter. Our hands were shaky and sweaty. It was an unbelievable feeling where someone had to pinch our arms to know that we weren’t dreaming. What we didn’t knew was that our dream wouldn’t actually come true.
My heart was simply ripped apart. I could not believe it at first, but I knew I had to. After all these wonderful years and enthralling moments, I finally have to face God's greatest challenge. My mind wasn't as messy as before anymore and I couldn't even think of what to think. It seemed as if I had nothing to worry about, nothing to do, nothing to say. I was trapped inside this room waiting for the Grim Reaper to reap my innocent soul.