The static noise of my walkie-talkie alarms the janitor a few feet ahead. He cocked his head and faced towards my way. I huddled behind the desk. The walkie-talkie released another sound. Now panicking, I try to shut it off. Oh no! The button is jammed! The janitor lingered into the nurse’s office. I slid the walkie-talkie across the room. Will he take the bait? The janitor followed after it, that’s a good zombie. I withdrew my pistol and crouch towards him. Wait, gunshots draw too much attention. I pull out my mighty katana, this will do. I closed my eyes and raised my weapon. With a quick slash, the janitor immediately dropped to the floor. Another battle won. I removed the set of keys from his trousers and grabbed my flashlight. Perfect,
It has been too long since I last wrote to you, so I thought I would inform you on momentous events that happened in my life in the last little while. The previous time I heard from you was when Gabriel turned three. I can’t believe he is about to become a teenager now. My goodness, time flies by so fast. I was so ecstatic when I saw your prior letter arrive in my mail.
“The zombie frenzy is growing, and it has cast its shuffling shadow on nature, mathematics, biology, and survival. So what can these shambling monsters teach us?” (Seifert 62) Before one can talk about zombies, one must first understand what a zombie is. The Oxford English Dictionary is known to be the most comprehensive dictionary in existence, its definition for the word ‘zombie’ may not be up to date anymore. In the dictionary, it describes a zombie as one of the Vodou zombies from Africa and Haiti and not any of the un-dead creatures seen today. Informally, zombies nowadays are described as a very aggressive, reanimated human corpse that is driven by a biological sickness or infection (Mogk 5-6). The effects these informal zombies have on people are starting to show in recent generations from young children up to grown adults. Whether these changes are for the better or not remains to be unseen but to prevent these changes to worsen, the portrayal of zombies in media should be changed to positively affect current generations.
“Grrrraaaahhh” someone behind me yelled. I yelped loudly as I jumped and turned sharply around. There stood another zombie with a bright red mask who was also wearing a dark black cloak. But this zombie had a bloody axe in one hand causing me to scream very loudly. As I bolted in the opposite direction back out the entrance. I ran in between 2 of the arcade booths, then looked over my shoulder and sighed in relief as I realized this zombie hadn’t followed me.
I sit here waiting, waiting for the day for the I can be free. Free from work, free from these awful people, free from everything. I wish I could just settle down at my own place where I can grow my own food, farm my own land, be my own boss. I already dont have to worry about Lennie getting in any trouble. I guess I'm halfway there. It could just be me on my own, on a little farm, with some chickens, maybe some pigs or a cow. I can grow my own food. I know how to cook, I’m not too bad. I can teach myself some things. I can even go into town every saturday and trade in some of my things. While I'm there I can visit Lennie's grave, maybe bring him some pretty flowers. Oh I'm sure he would like that. I really do miss that sun of a gun.
We were driving to the Wakulla Springs Lodge. Mom and Dad wanted to go there before the butterflies migrate. I wanted to go to the movies.
In the book, “The Outsiders,” people are divided into two groups, the Socs and the Greasers. The Socs were known to be the people with money and power, and typically seen as good people to anyone who has not seen their other side. Greasers are looked down upon as hoodlums, street rats, and thugs. Society has given them roles in their lives in which they cannot escape. You could become filthy rich, but everyone will still look down at you, because your past will never leave you, no matter how far you stray. In this, I will show you how misleading a name can be.
Ava Rosa Emilia Flores Pojida was the given name to me. I was born May 30 2001. I'm a loving, caring but also naughty child. I always do my best to make my parents proud and to cheer them that they were right for making me live. We all expect to die but we don't know what time. It could be today, tomorrow, or the following days. I was enjoying my life through the past years I've been alive. I have passed so many difficulties in life.
When I stepped out of the car for Cross Country Camp, I couldn't tell if I actually wanted to be there. I had been looking forward to this event for months, but part of me still wanted to hop back in my van and go home. At home there wasn't anything to prove, and I didn't feel like people were watching me everywhere I went.
It’s 3:20 am. on a Friday morning, and pitch black out. The only things visible are the tree branches and pavement shining from yellow streetlights that carve out a path from the parking lot to the back door of my building. Living on campus at Towson I should’ve owned mace, but I clutched my car key instead, pointed outward ready to stab the eye of anyone deciding to come out of the dark after me. The brisk walk up the hill seems to take half an hour. Finally under the bright lights of the overhang I swipe my card quickly to get inside. The door bolt locks behind me with a loud click. I’m safe.
“You don’t happen to have a first aid kit or anything, do ya? I think my arm is getting worse.” she said as she grabbed her arm. “Thank God Arvo is dead, That stupid kid… I’d like to put a bullet in him” she said as she gritted her teeth. “No I don’t, but we’ll find something we can use.” Ellie said. They walked for what felt like hours until they were both completely exhausted. They found an abandoned two story house, where they could be safe for the night. Clem pulled out her gun and slowly opened the door. It was dark, but it seemed empty. “See anything?” Ellie said quietly. Clem’s eyes tried to adjust to the darkness. “Not really, but stay on your
The day was cold but Slash’s armor kept him a bit warm but he could see his own breath in his visor smudged, he checked his weapons, his hidden blade almost didn't work, his fur rustled in the wind he took out his claws like always it hurt a bit but his claws were fine then he saw the gang,the gang has been hunting for weeks he saw they were robbing someone beating him up he needs to wait and waited for the right moment then he struck his blades and claws hit two gang members his blades and claws both in sync then the other gang members were shocked some pulled out guns others just fell back but before they fired he took out his twin revolvers and fired his revolvers so powerful they could blow someone up that's what he liked about his guns
I ran back upstairs to my room to tell my friends. Knocking at there door. After I told them they thought I was kidding then they open the door and saw one coming right towards him then we quickly closed the door. We were a bit scared. Just in case I brought a pistol just in case something happens on the road. Noë, Chris, and Angel also brought knifes to protect themselves in a situation. We were thinking “what’s going on out there” and how we were going to get out if there’s this zombie looking thing. so we came up with ideas. Then we went outside of the room to peak. Then we went down stairs, and we a saw bunch of “zombies” in the hall way. and behind these zombies was this gigantic mutated zombie with a machine gun stitched on its right hand, and its left hand was holding a machete, and behind all of that was the exit door, but there was a problem; a bunch of them were near the door they were blocking the exit. One of our ideas was getting their attention I was the decoy, then suddenly they all looked at me, while I was getting there attention my friends were slowly walking behind the zombies to ...
High school is full of drama. I like to think myself above it, as many do. But as much as one runs away from something, there's always the chance it’ll still bite you- which i’ve learned first-handedly. My friends are always feuding, they’re like cats, it almost seems like they were never friends.Then here I am- the dopey loving dog who just sits and wishes for a happy family. It is difficult being in the middle because you are 2x as likely to be accused of choosing sides or being a “backstabber”, there is no doubt that it is a fine line to walk. However, let me tell you, being the calm eye in the anger storm is great. I am the only voice of reason, the bridge over the gap. My own calm and happy vibes almost seem to radiate off me onto the feuding, originating from
- Hey, you can 't be here. - Says who? Guess who I found trying to steal? Where 's Pretty 's calculator? You thief!
The creatures were ugly looking, vomit-green, saliva dripping out of their mouth, dark, black circles under their eyes, making hissing noises at the man taking the video (imagery). Suddenly, the camera went black, not before I saw a green hand reach out for him. I guess he didn’t survive then. I felt bad for the man. I guess my death is coming soon as well. I feel calm, ready for my decease, indifferent. The zombies are predicted to arrive in Atlanta in a day or two. There is officially no hope in civilization. I picked up the remote, ready to change the channel. The door suddenly came crashing down. Then, chaos.