It was a warm summer day on the Bozeman farm. Mr. Heizer worked hard every day to harvest his crops and make sure all his animals are fed. My best friend Birch lived in a coop not that far from the stables. That’s where that grumpy old horse lived, his name was Nester. He’s not very polite to all the other farm animals. Last week Rudy, a chicken who lived next to Birch, walked into Nesters stable and got kicked. No one goes in his stable anymore. The farmer lives in a nice, big, white house on the hill a little farther then where we all live. He’s kind and makes sure we are fed but every weekend he leaves and we don’t see him until the week starts. Some of the animals think he goes to town to sell his crops, which explains why he comes back …show more content…
I was snuggled up in my little house built in the mud until I heard something strange. It was a growl of some sort, but it wasn’t like anything I heard before. The growl started getting louder and closer, which freaked me out a lot. I know I wasn’t supposed to leave my pen, but I got scared and started to run. I kept running until I could barley see my pen then I decided that I was enough to stop. I stood in the middle of no where trying to catch my breath until I heard growling behind a bush. Slowly a dark figure came out and began to creep up on me. I could only see parts of the figure. I noticed his red, bloody beady eye, his arched body almost like he was ready to pounce at me and his sharp, dangerous teeth. “Hello? Is anyone there?” I said. No answer. ”My friends are just up that hill and they will be here any second!” I exclaimed. “You’re friends won’t help you now.” The figure said furiously. “And why is that?” I said. “Because I’m the one they are hiding from.” He said. “A-are you scar?” I said petrified. No answer. “HELP!” I screamed. He slowly got closer to me and I was cornered. He was way faster then me. More vicious. I had no chance against him. Scar tried to attack but Birch comes out and attack’s him. Nester comes out with a lantern they all notice he was not that scary he was this small wolf that looked very weak but he just tried to have to this big voice, and that’s why he only came out at night so they couldn’t see what he really looked like. All the animals started to laugh and Nester kicks him in the face and threatens him to never come back. They all feel relieved and now they know they are all safe. The farmer returns home, he went to check on all the animals to make sure they had food and water and to make sure they had no injuries. While the farmer was looking they all smiled at each other and realized they had nothing to be worried about anymore when Mr.
As night struck I collapsed in my bed exhausted from the day, I felt like I’ve never done that much labor since we first came to Salem. I woke up early afternoon only to see a letter that my dad wrote stating he was going on a hunting trip. Every wednesday I take care of the chickens along with my sister Tara, our chicken coop is a couple of feet from our house and is home to about 12 chickens that are always rowdy.
It was a clear sunny day, spare the few clouds in the sky, the kind that children are so fond of pointing at and calling a dog or train, down the gravel driveway to the barn and house of Graystone stables. Up in their unseen perches, birds call out dutifully, whether they are asking for help or seeking a mate, their chirps and squawk all blend together to form a type of chorus. But every now and then a bird will quit the choir to seek the comforts of the grass. All of the birds were scared from the ground though when they heard the soft puts of a tractor passing by on its way to the barn. The rusted and dented John Deere tractor worked its way slowly to the barn, carrying in its front loader one black dog, panting happily at the prospect of
I made my will and eggshell encasing the monster’s fur so that the hollow hairs could not draw. I never let up willing its size smaller, its hair to retract, until by dawn the Sitting Ghost temporarily disappeared…. The sitting ghost has many wide black mouths. It is dangerous. It is real. Most ghost make sure brief and gauzy appearances that eyewitnesses doubt their own sightings. This one conjure up enough substance to sit solidly throughout a night. It is a serious ghost, not at all playful… It does not bother with tricks. It wants lives”
I awake by the music playing on the radio on 92.5FM. The clock read 5 ’o’ clock in the morning. While I could be sleeping in like everyone else my age, I rise quickly to put on a pair of bootcut jeans and a tanktop with my long, blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail. Lastly, I pull my ponytail through my blue and yellow hat with Rockin W Ranch stitched across the front. As I’m leaving for another long, hard working day on the horse ranch, I slip on my well worn cowboy boots. My day involves hard labor like: bailing hay, grooming horses, working horses, throwing saddles on Appoloosa horses, different obstacles, and my favorite riding horses. Around one in the afternoon, my legs and arms begin to shake with fatigue, but I must push on. I will move forward to finish as strong as I started.
Stepping out onto the ice, hearing the roar of the crowd, knowing that this was the end; the conclusion of the months of battling, surviving injuries and most importantly becoming one. This day was different, and the anticipation boiled inside of me, just hours ahead of the PIHL Championship game and the potential of being the best. I packed my bag as soon as I got home, and the lumbering bag seemed light as a feather. The game was held at the newly constructed Lemieux Ice Center and for this reason a certain expectation arose. This was the very rink that the Pittsburgh Penguins practiced and trained at every day. Only one other team was permitted to play on this ice surface which led to the realization that this might be my one and only chance.
It was exactly 4 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days before I had seen my creature again. This time he well, almost hopeful. His face plastered with peace, was worse the closer he got. “Victor, I know you have wished never to see me again, but I would like for you to make Hazel and I children” he stated in a less creaky and more mellow. This must have been because he had gotten used to speach, I thought to myself. “ Who is this Hazel, I shall never create another monster like the pair I’ve already. With hearing this the monster’s face turned grave and he walked off, almost stomping like a toddler. Only when he turned back towards me did I see the grin he plastered on the pale, scar covered face of his. Scared of his intentions I followed him through the dark dense forest for miles. It had seemed like hours before he had come upon a small house on a hill. I hid at the edge of the forest, waiting to the what the horrid creature would do next. I watched for a quarter
It was dark , I couldn’t see anything , I was running around trying to find people but I couldn't find anybody . Here’s the story about how I got lost playing hide and seek in the dark in the corn fields . It was the scariest thing I have ever done I was 13 years old . I tried to be the tough kid and say that I would be it first , that was the dumbest thing I have ever done . It was my sister Lizzie, her friend Sydney ,and my friend Chance . We had one rule that you can only stay in the corn fields . So they told me to start counting to 50 so I did . They took off.
It was a Friday afternoon in early July and the weather was perfect for a mid-afternoon hike through the Smoky Mountains. The wispy clouds were scattered along the bright blue sky like pulled-apart cotton balls. The sunshine was filtering through the overhead canopy of leaves.
I woke up to a whisper. I looked down to see Cato and his friends still sleeping by the bottom of the tree. I looked around to see where the whisper came from, until I saw a little girl. It was the last twelve year old tribute, Rue. She was pointing to a tracker jacker nest that was a branch above from me. Then I got what she was saying. She wanted me to cut the branch, so the nest would fall on Cato and his friends and kill them all. I climbed to the nest and started to cut the branch. A few of the tracker jackers flew out of the nest and stung me a few times. Ten minutes later, I got the nest to fall. It broke on top of them, but Cato and Peeta managed to escape. The others were not so lucky.
I’ve made quite a few friends at Valley over the course of these couple years that I’ve been here. I went from a group of friends at lunch, to another one. The first friends I had, were nice, but I couldn’t really relate to them as well as I wished. I got along with them really well, which was good, but as time went on I started to feel out of place. I eventually received an invite to sit at a table with some high schoolers that were actually my age. Right after the first or second day of siting with them I saw a huge difference. The way they made me feel welcome, always made me laugh and feel comfortable. This was what I realized I was missing out on. Each one of them are so different from each other, yet they all balanced each other out and got along perfectly. One person in particular I got along with really well was Abbey. I
“Up North. It’s the place people go to escape, a place made of cabins, pine trees, and lakes. But no matter how far you drive, there’s no sign to say “you’ve arrived” so just follow your heart till you find… your special place that brings peace of mind. As you breathe in the air and unwind… your cares are all left behind. It’s no mystery where the northwoods start when you arrive up north, you’ll know in your heart.” -Suzanne Kindler. Coming from a fifth generation Wisconsinite, I have never seen a quote more true. When I think of where I was born and raised in Mauston, WI, I think of peaceful, sunny afternoons hanging out in the backyard or trail riding through the forest with my horse. It’s beautiful, most afternoons
It was in the early 1800’s in Roanoke County, Virginia. Roanoke County, Virginia was situated in the middle of Virginia with the scenery of the small mountains of the Appalachians in the background. Both the scenery, and the people that lived in the region were very rugged. The climate was hot and humid in August, and switched to cold and dry in January, so one had to be rugged and able to adapt to variations in temperature such as this.
Small town life - for four years Brianna Channing had left that world behind for one of cities and bright nights and the chaos that was college. She had gone through good times and bad in the end, somehow managed to actually come out the other side with a nursing degree. Considering how often she considered leaving it behind, that alone was a feat. Many times over the last few years she had debated if it was worth it but she was pretty damn pleased with herself for seeing things out no matter how tough it got. However, now she was left in the unknown. Returning to her hometown was a stark change from what she had grown used to and everything that had lured her in when she was young and green was gone. Her friends were gone, split in to several different cities and towns, doing things like pursuing a Masters or going to med school or travelling or all of the things that she wished that she could do.
Dad sat in the middle of the couch and patted the seats on each side of him as if to invite us to sit. Veronica and I hugged Dad. She and I cried.