It’s chilly november and i’m standing silently in a line outside of the bland looking alternative school, with my belt and book in hand, across from my two best friends Isabelle and Carlie, waiting to go through the metal detector. We know what we’ve done is stupid, but it’s done and over with. There’s nothing we can do to get ourselves out of here. For now we must pretend to hate each other, not get too close to each other, or even look at each other in the presence of our parents. As I watch Isa’s dark red hair bob through the gray metal doorway and Carlie follow shortly after, I wonder what they’re thinking, and mentally note that I won’t see them again until lunch. Periodically throughout the day i catch glimpses of Isa crying her heart …show more content…
Hesitantly and softly i call out her name, “Isa?..” I say. “What’s wrong sweetie? It’s Carlie and I. We’re here for you.” She jerks her head up and manages to choke out the word “Mom” through her tears. We all know that her family situation has never been good and her mom is always narrowly avoiding trouble, but we don’t know what’s happened. “Isabelle, honey, you’re gonna have to give us a little more than that,” says Carlie. After ten minutes spent hugging her and holding her hand, she manages to spit it out. “Mom went to jail. She has to stay for at least a year, which means that i’m going to have to move in with Grandpa and Grandma. I can’t move back in with Dad, so i’m going to move out of town as soon as we’re out of AEP.” Carlie and I are shocked beyond words. We’re practically sisters. We’ve been together, with her family as well, for the last five years. It’s as if our own mother is going to jail and one third of us is leaving and so we bawl with her. We all shared the pain for another ten minutes before we are all called back to class and back to separation for the rest of the weekend until the next
In between each of Hannah’s loud cries, Hannah’s mum reassured her, whispering, “It’s okay Hannah. It’s not your fault”. With Hannah’s shoulders slumped and her hands tucked away in her pockets, she quietly sat gazing up into the grey sky, trying to calm herself down. As her face became engulfed with sorrow as she stumbled to her feet, she stood in silence looking at her mum with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
Lilly Barels never thought she would be a writer. As a UCLA graduate who double majored in Neuroscience and Dance, her relationship with creative writing ended in High School. However, almost fifteen years later, in the midst of a broken marriage and lost in the fog of un-fulfillment, Barels discovered the creative channel that would transform her from a high school physics teacher to a soon-to-be published writer. After a passionate and healing love affair with poetry, she was accepted into the MFA program at Antioch Los Angeles. In 2012, Barels received her Masters in Creative Writing with a focus in fiction. Barels just finished her second novel, and she is a regular contributor to Huffington Post.
The night before, I didn’t practice my English so I knew what to say. By now, I knew most of the words, so I would just let my heart guide me. Besides, my cramped old house, which is actually just a junky garage in an abandoned alley, is too small to let out my feelings. Once I got to school after a cold walk in the snow, I placed myself by her locker and waited. Fourteen minutes had gone by, and still no sign of Lily. I only had a minute to get to class now, so I hurriedly collected myself and ran to my locker. I was disappointed, knowing that without Lily here, it would be the hardest day of school. I opened my locker and to my surprise a note fell to the floor. I quickly picked it up and gazed at the neat handwriting that clearly spelled my name.
Erica’s heart beating like crazy, “Terriana-- don’t tell me you’re gone.” As tears start to cover her eyes, she starts to believe that everything she cared for was gone. Silence, complete silence, it’s like half her heart had faded away. It’s 11 in the morning, lunch has just started and drama has already begun. School, a dreadful place where nobody ever wanted to be.
“Enjoy your last meals boys!” Shouted the large Arab as he smacked the slave, unfortunate enough to be serving in the belly of the Colosseum that day. His massive hands shook the bars of the prisoner’s cage, intimidating many of the men held captive inside. “You’ll be dead and burning on the pyre as I feast and fuck this night.” The current prized gladiator climbed the bars and thrust his hand through, gripping one of the larger men about his throat, “Will you be the first to fall to my sword,” He laughed as he shoved the man away and pointed to the one who sat in the corner of the cell. His head was down, elbows pressed to his knees, and although there was a crust of bread still in his hand, he had not eaten it, nor had any of the other prisoners yet deemed it fit to take it from him. “No, it will be you. HEY! LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!!!”
I cursed under my breath and grabbed Annabeth and dashed through the hallway to get to our advisory. I opened the door just as the tardy bell rang and sighed in relief.I slid into the seat next to Annabeth just as the announcements started. I zoned out until our principal yelled through the intercom ,“ We are going into a code-red lockdown, we have a break in!”
removed her overthrow as she was too hot. She had to find a job. She
What stylistic elements of a story hook a reader into deciding whether a novel is enjoyable or not? Are there certain techniques an author uses that make someone more likely to read their work again? Creative writing depends on an intricate relationship with reading where an author uses language to create the world for the reader to interpret who in turn recreate it for themselves (Scott 8). For this imaginative transference, so to speak, to happen, the author must make a series of stylistic choices involving structure, diction, syntax, rhythm, and tone. When used effectively, these elements allow the reader to participate actively in the creative relationship and immerse themselves in the story. Authors Lewis Carroll and Hilary T. Smith use
“ And so it seems our stay here is over. They are waiting for us now. They’ve allowed us five minutes to get our things,” (Hackett, 186). Anne went for being happy to being scared and worried when Anne hears a sound of a car and brakes squealing that's when she realizes that she will never see her family again. “ Anne stands, holding her school satchel, looking over at her father and mother with a soft, reassuring smile.”
It was a bright sunny day this May 23. My friends and I happened to be flying kites high above on a roof of one house. However, we weren’t the only ones flying kites, as we were opposed by other kids on the streets, and to be more precise, the grade 5 students. They were one grade ahead, and that usually meant they felt as they were more privileged than us. “Man, I hate those kids so much!
Jenny Bryce was a cute little nineteen year-old coed at Great Plains University who was on a full-ride scholarship for gymnastics and was, at the moment, one of the ten cutest adult female human beings on planet Earth, where "cute" is a term that describes "delightfully pretty or dainty in a youthful, delicate way; fun-spirited; adorable. " You know, perky, cheerful, daintily-petite, and at once both innocent and sexy. Oh, yes, Jenny was all of that from head to toes. Yes, indeed, she was. It was a quarter after seven in the morning and Jenny had been lost in sexual reverie since at least half-past five...her sheets were damp with sweat and the room had a hot, stuffy, sultry air about it that defied the cool crispness of the morning.
The Incredibles ~ Jago Gallagher-Slavin Cobalt blue lights glinted in the eerie darkness of Syndrome’s mysterious labyrinth. It was a death trap. Engulfed in the shadows, the devil stood, his hair a flaming trident blowing in the gusts of forceful wind. He swaggered out from the gloom, with a menacing smirk streaked across his face, glaring vehemently into Mr Incredible’s eyes. Azure blue snakes gripped Mr Incredible’s wrists, absorbing all of his remaining strength, as he hung from the meticulously designed torture machine.
The Incredibles were vacationing in Japan when it happened, a nuclear plant in had exploded and radiation swept across the city, endangering the citizens of Japan, this is the exact conditions needed to awaken Godzilla. As it arose from the depths of the ocean the tidal wave that followed took out the shoreline of japan along with house hotels and other structures, and that’s what grabbed the attention of Robert Parr, Mr. Incredible. As he left his hotel he saw Godzilla approaching the shoreline and knew he had to do something. He ran back inside to warn his family and told them to stay in the hotel where it was safe and they can’t get hurt, they didn’t want to let him go alone so after a couple minutes of convincing he left.
Clementine was a twelve year old girl. She was like any other child. She loved to draw, to read, and she had the most caring and compassionate Mother in the world. She had a perfect and regular life, or so she thought. There was something different about Clementine. She thought she was just a normal kid, but Clementine had a gift. Well, more of a curse actually. She had a very powerful mind, and when she would dream, her mind would become a strong and powerful place. A very dangerous place. She didn't know it at the time but when Clementine would dream, whatever she dreamt would become a reality.
... thought that maybe we won’t be friends or even know each other in the future. Unexpectedly, we all had these feelings of fondness for a place we a come to despise and couldn’t wait to leave. Why would that happen to us? We all realized that in this moment we’re growing up but are far from “grown up.” Suddenly, there is a flash of light and in that moment I knew that the three of us would be separated for the rest of the day, maybe our lives. The flash brought everything back. It gave us a reason to go back into the hallway and meaninglessly chat with our friends. After we left that room we were still sharing a moment together but in a different sort of way. The picture was there and we had superficial thoughts but the graduation was so much more. It marked a major time in our lives and sent us off into the future. No longer were we the next generation because we were being sent off into the grown up world. Would we all still be appreciated? How is the world going to receive three naive girls who don’t know anything? All these questions were to be asked and to be forgotten because we got caught up in the moment. The picture marks that time in our past and an important time it was.