7/11 Descriptive Writing

It has been six very long days, I cannot wait any longer for the chapter to be uploaded, I am both excited and exhausted. The days usually pass me by finding new short stories to read, which for the most part lasts a day or more. Then I am back to finding new stories and I always find some good ones, because of the several genres that are on the website. The website is called Wattpad. It is where my favorite writer can make his talent shine. The website is where the youngsters and college students get their best drafts up on the website for the readers to enjoy and as the time passes the writers grow into their best version of themselves in the writing department. The writers are mostly college students and High Schoolers that have a love for writing. The books have many genres but my interest will always be in the romance books. The romance genre is popular since it's mostly teenagers that are acquainted with Wattpad. Even though the romance books can get a little repetitive I love how the plots are always twisted to the author's liking. The books are rarely complete mostly, because of the authors' lifestyle, whether they have too much to do in school or their interest goes to another story they have been writing. The incompleteness irks me since that means I would not know what is going to happen. I try to stay away from the unfinished tales, nevertheless, I end up with one in my reading list anyway. The story I am currently interested in is incomplete, that is only

The low ceiling cowered above and the black plastic chairs formed a restless crowd around me. From my seat, I could smell the acute scent of cleaning fluid, whiteboard markers, and the nauseating perfume of the girl sitting next to me. Like so many other students, she exuded concentration. Her brows were drawn as her hand moved rapidly over the testing booklet, only pausing to reposition herself or cast an almost imperceptible sidelong glance. The effortlessness of her actions furthered my anxiety as I began tapping my foot uneasily against the speckled linoleum floor. Through the dusty shades that hung precariously in front the only window in the room, I could see the outline of a solitary building shadowed by the dense gray fog that clung to the courtyard outside. At that moment, I would have given anything to be able to run and scream at the top of my lungs. I had an inexplicable urge to break free from the confinement of that room and what it

A sickly breeze slithers around the corner of a long brick building and pulls bits of paper and trash into its wickedly spiraling game. Grey fog, twisting and warping into grotesque patterns, oozes up from the dank stream of sewage that floats lazily down the gutters of the stone-made road. A hunchbacked old man trundles through the mist, the collar of his tattered jacket clenched tightly around his face to ward off the slight autumn chill of the brisk morning air. He hardly slows at the sound of another being moving towards him through the smog. A small, dirty child, adorned in a ragged yellow dress waddles by, on her way to the factory where she will spend her day exposed to many hazardous conditions. Thus was the life of the people in

The time I adopted my dog bella, I knew it would be a mystical time. I adopted her when she needed a place to stay in October. She’s a Poodle and her fur white as snow and a brown nose, “she’s beautiful” I said the first time I saw her. She has colored eyes and sleeps with me at night. She runs towards me when I get home. She cries for I can give her food.She just loves when I call her “Beladora”.I love her so much she sometimes prefers me than food and if you know her she loves food a lot to much sometimes.She will always love me as I will always love her even when she steals food out of my hands.

    “Wake up Mommy,” said Taylor through her tears as she hugged my mom’s twitching body.

My heart began to race faster than a cheetah, my legs were numb, and I couldn’t tell whether or not I was actually running. The feeling of the crisp and hot summer air quickly entering my lungs felt rough, while the air was escaping even faster. As I struggle to look behind to see if he was close enough to get me I tried to exclaim while trying to grasp some air for my lungs, “Xouse, he’s gaining, on us, come on!”. As the hot asphalt burnt the bottom of my shoes off, I continued running into the alley of two apartment complexes as my cousin followed. I looked at Xouse, I saw the agony on his face, my vision went blurry, next thing I knew I was standing in front of a wall, with nowhere to go. I looked back to see if we were finally safe, and then I knew, I should have never left the by myself.

It was that grueling kind of boredom that makes you want to move. Need to move. Just run outside and do anything other than sit on the couch and stare at the TV screen. It was a brisk February afternoon, just a few days after a huge snowstorm had ravaged the Connecticut coast. I stepped outside onto the porch. Ice crunched under my rain boots. A gust of cold wind made my eyes water and my cheeks burn. It was only 5 o’clock, but I noticed that it was nearing dusk. The sky, a faded blue, was streaked with purple clouds and street lights were slowly flickering on. Even as I looked onto vast expanse of empty road, I felt suffocated. There was only one place that I wanted to be: the

When they told me about adopting a furry little creature, I was completely ecstatic; I loved dogs and had wanted one ever since I first tried to pet one on the street. This time, I was completly fine with my parents making a decision for me; now this was the best surprise. So a week later, I convinced my parents to visit the nearest dog shelter. As we entered, we saw about 20 enclosure each containing a dog. None of the dogs looked or sounded alike; some were fluffy, spotted, tiny, or even bigger than me. We walked down the hall of dogs and I spotted a furious, little puppy. I read the card on the front of the gate and found that this adorable dog was a poodle and his name was Gucci; the dog was also only a year and two months. But the most interesting part about the small puppy was not on his information card. Instead, it was on his front left leg; his leg was encased in a bright red cast, so he was healing from a broken leg. Soon after, my parents and I realized that Gucci was healing from something much worse than a broken leg.

In the Diane's house, I walked out of the garage house and I saw a wander puppy in a street next from me, and it came forward onto me. It looked a tiny gray on the black oil on the shine fur coat and a clearly white on the mask of placed over the snout. His golden almond shaped eyes around more shiny, like as god.

In the dark foggy alley Normîrel ran. The smell of rain and sour milk filling the air. She ran down the long narrow alley way, watching mice scurry as her feet splash in the clear dirty rain puddles. Her heart ponding in her chest. Hearing the sound of the motorcycle behind her, her heart stopped. Running faster, Normîrel turned on to the street and down the other alley. With the sound of her footsteps echoing in her ears. A car pulled up at one end of the alley. Making another turn in the twisty foggy alley way, Normîrel fell. The screams of her pain raining out in the cold brisk air. Hearing footsteps, Normîrel crawled to some near-by dumpsters and hid. The footsteps getting louder and close, Normîrel stayed as quite as she could while trying to muffle her cries of pain. Her leg is dirty with the dark red color and she chocked on the smell of gas and smoke that filled her nose.

pointing arrows pointing outward. Right down the center of the backpack there is a aluminum

Walking down 7 Boyden Lane, I feel the unevenness of sidewalk. Each step is different from the last. Trying to avoid twisting my ankle from one of the cracks, that is filled with rustic green grass. As I keep walking, I hear my foot slowly step down on a leaf. Making the sound of a potato chip being eaten. Advancing forward, I soon come to a new street, surrounded by massive trees that hover over me. Enabling me to only detect little specs of the clear blue sky up above. The smell of cow manure reminiscing the air. The sun beating on my shoulders, as I hear an immense truck start to approach me. Passing me it kicks up dust into the warm air, making it impossible to see twenty feet in front of me. All the sudden my hair starts to move to the

It was a cold fall day when we decided to take a trip down to the Cataract. The traffic was light on the way there, my mom falling asleep in the back while I talked to Jeremy while he was driving. Every time I looked out of the window I saw beautiful shades of red or yellow. The second to last road that we turned onto was a gravel road with a bunch of twists and hills. Jeremy loved these type of roads, especially when he had the blazer to play with. We passed our usual spot that we take to get to the lower falls and turned onto the actual road that takes us into the park itself.

I’ve been here, in the middle of the Arizona desert, stranded for 15 days. If I don’t find water soon, this might be the last you’ll hear from me. Many nights I have slept with a big palm tree leaf I had found after the crash. Cactus has been my only source of food this rough, long period of time, and had been drinking through my sock, for clean water, with damp soil. It’s been forever since I've been so tired been of prickly pears.

I walked out my front door with two trash bags in my hands. As I start walking to the dumpster near by, I smell the abominable stench of the trash in my hands. “My hands! They’re going to smell like rotten eggs”, I thought, “I don’t want to know what the dumpster is going to smell like” As I got near the industrial dumpster, I could hear loads of trucks driving near it. Eventually, when I reached the dumpster, I felt like it was my 80th birthday, I felt tired and I felt like I’ve been walking for years.