A Brief Note On The Scene ' Smelt Burning '

Fighting with things, those twisty things in the trees. Then I was frightened and I woke up. And I was outside the shelter by myself and I saw something moving in the trees.

It was dark and alone and I felt the need to cry. One by one everyone I have ever loved showed up. My mom, my sister, my late girlfriend, my grandma… I could go on. Their eyes were on me and only me. I was the only stimulus in the room. The yelled at me. I was irrational . I had put them in a situation where they didn’t even know me anymore. I was the monster under the bed and I was the reason why people were scared. They yelled so loud to the point where I didn’t even know if they were screams anymore.

A short loud bang echoed through my ears and clumps of mud sprinkled on my pale skin like a cold shower. Edrenalin spreaded through my body faster than I could get up on my feet and look straight. The world was on mute, only a loud ringing whistle existed and it wasn't going away anytime soon. The high pitch sound was dampening and for some reason i was hoping to hear a familiar voice or sound that was of somewhat pleasing like my mother. But something more familiar started to come into reality, screaming. People were darting by me, like a sudden flash. I looked over to what they were doing, where they were going. And sure enough they were going over to the screams. A man who looked older than me was half submerged in mud and blood. He was

“Fine I mumble, and drag my feet over to her bed. She motions to a purple and black duffle bag and I pull out a blue ombre bedding and a electric blanket. I plug it in and groan, knowing Pastel would want the same so I do her green ombre sheets to while i’m at it. I jump off her bunk and look around for the last open bed. I grab my red comforter with little roses printed all over and put it over my solid red

Slowly, I awoke to see looming trees all around me, bending over me, watching. Listening. They heard the screams, they heard my screams, I was still screaming. I clamped a trembling hand down over my mouth to only realize it was closed, my lips rolled in. And then thick as velvet. The blood pooled.

My head felt as if it was too explode, blood was dripping down from my forehead, and a throbbing pain was coming from my leg. At first I had no idea where I was or what was happening. In the distance I could hear a scream, although it was fading and my eyesight was blurry. I tried to stand up as I remember but I was not able too. I kept wondering to myself if this was a dream, but I felt pain. Terrible pain. How could I feel this much pain if it was a dream. Then all at once it came back to me. The memory, the fear, the frightfulness, the nervousness, and the sadness.

I looked outside to see the ugliest monster that I could ever image. I had heard so much it school about the black days and the death cloud, but this is not anything thing like what I had imagined. I could hear the howling and screaming of 7000 feet of dust pulled from 1000's of miles barreling over my home stead.

The siren woke me up. A sip of smoke slipped through my throat and my eyes. Everything around me was burning by the blazing fire. Through the smoke I was blind. The ominous feeling passed through my body. Running through the fire made my skin stinging but It couldn't make me stop. The only thing that in my mind was to getting out of this place. The grey smoke surrounded me, I saw him and closed my eyes.

My life was flashing before my eyes, I was realizing what was happening death was coming. Cold and stillness filled the room while the feeling of death started to overtake my body it was a different feeling but it had to come. My limbs felt heavy and I thought real slow everything was slowing down. Just then something odd happened like nothing I ever thought some sound came into the room an annoying buzzing creature.

as I was walking I stumble into an old cottage and there was an old man there and he got scared of me then he ran away that made me feel like I was this frightful monster so I walk into his bedroom then to his mirra and I saw myself for the first time my eyes were black, my lips were dead gray, and my skin had an old moldy testeur to it but luckily the man had a few cloths that I could fit in.

The Magdalen with the Smoking Flame is a work of art done by Georges De La Tour. It was completed in the year 1640 using oil paint on canvas in France, and it is now located at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. This painting is of a woman, possibly pregnant, sitting leaning on a table her head rested on one hand. She also has a skull on her lap and the other hand placed on it. In the back ground there is a small stack of books and candlelight.

“I can’t wait to visit Granny Bea!” I told my mom. “I know honey. Why don’t you head upstairs and start packing. I have to call Jenna and ask if she can dog-sit Bubba,” mom said. I rushed upstairs into my room. It’s a greyish blue shade with a flower design on one section of the wall. My dad painted it before he died, a little over two years ago. There are a few chips in the paint, but I don’t feel right covering it up. I started packing up right away. My clothes are old. They are all  covered in floral patterns, cheesy sayings, and sequins. I threw all my clothes in and zippered my suitcase.

I could feel the blood pounding in my chest. Blackness crept into the fringes of my vision. My voice was hoarse from screaming; I didn’t remember screaming though.

I had just gotten up from bed at six in the morning and stretched, I felt like a Disney princess waking up to something very special to come. I quickly jogged over to my sink, making sure I didn’t step over anyone sleeping in my room. I brushed, showered and went down to eat. It was eight o’clock by the time I went down and everybody was up and running. I ate the fluffiest pancakes in the world, doused in pancake syrup and lathered in butter with a hot cup of chocolate milk. I then got ready to go to get my makeup done. I put on a button-down shirt with some leggings and flats and I was on my way with my aunt and cousin. My mom’s friend, Hina, picked us up and took us to the mall to get my makeup done. I got my makeup done at Clinique and it looked flawless and beautiful.

Everything was pastel pinks and yellows. The tiles on the floor were checkered with the wretchedly pleasant colors, each of the four walls displayed them in a striped pattern, and even the countertops were subjected to their speckled blend. The sunlight danced off the small crystals within the granite and caused me to squint due to the bright reflection. It was as if the granite tops were glaring at me and daring me to take another peek. To my left, the cabinetry had paneled doors and drawer fronts which created a traditional look. But they were painted pink and yellow in an alternating fashion. The cabinets? knobs and bar pulls had a delicate, ornate touch with their polka-dotted soft pale colors of pink and yellow. The backsplash was a blend of muted pastel glass tiles, which created a spring-like and an elegant atmosphere to the ?work only? environment for cooking and baking. The colors complimented the light-colored cabinets and countertops to create the pleasing colorful space. A pink paisley apron draped over a bar stool, which was part of a five piece dining set. Fresh daffodils were centered on a round pedestal dining table, which was dressed formal with proper place settings complete with water goblet and wine glasses. Every utensil and piece of stemware was perfectly placed. Forks on the left and the knife and spoons on the right. Perhaps a dinner date was scheduled. The table was home to