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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
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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
My memory was foggy until the moment I stepped through the door. Abruptly, I felt something in my shoe. Looking down, I saw a stack of red towels with a note on top. Trying not to drip too much water on the floor, I leaned forward to read the note on top. Written on it was the following: “Feel free to use, Savannah!
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?”
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
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
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
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.
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.
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.
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.
The words that were still vibrating inside of me. Still burning me up as each second went by. I heard my dad’s melodic voice stretching out each syllable as if he was playing a simple game of hide-and-seek, “Honey I am home, where are you” I could feel the cold hard earth beneath me. My brown eyes widened in panic. Tears streamed down my face as I bit my bottom lip until I tasted the metallic sting of my own blood.
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.
Have you ever thought about your idea of a perfect day? The perfect day has many sides to it. In this essay you are going to learn the many things that make up my idea of my perfect day. Who knows, maybe my perfect day will start out with writing this paper.
We were all still very confused considering there was not a cloud in sight. My mom, being the rule follower that she is, forced us all to get in our pantry. At the time, the house we lived in was not equipped with the safest places in the world. In other words, one side of our house comprised of all glass doors that lined the whole side of the house. Inside of our pantry, my grandmother, sister,
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.