Alex just stopped arguing with me as we neared where she and the girls split up. “How far do you think they went?” Alex asked while I stopped walking. “Not that far. Kid went after Ender and Hiei went after Izzy. They couldn’t have gotten that far.” I said and Alex started laughing. I looked over my shoulder at Alex and raised an eyebrow. “That’s not their real names.” Alex said. “What?” I asked confused. “They don’t like their real names, so they use the names that they like.” Alex explained with a shrug. “Alex! You Asshole! You said you wouldn’t tell anybody!” Izzy and Ender yelled in unison as they entered the small clearing with Hie and Kid. *Hiei’s P.O.V* “Alex! You Asshole! You said you wouldn’t tell anybody!” Izzy and
One day, cutting through the swamp, David comes across the remains of old Indian souls and discovers a skull with jewelry still buried on the bodies. As David kicks at the skull, he hears a voice and looks up to see a black man seated on a stump just looking. The man, wearing a black sash around his body, has a soot-stained face, which makes it appear as if he works in some fiery place. David soon recognizes the stranger as the devil, the black man. Twenty years later we had a family reunion with all my relatives and they started talking about the fire.
“Ender looked at the others coldly. “You might be having some idea of ganging up on me …. But just remember what I do to people who try to hurt me.”
“Yes I am dad.” Kevin screaming at the top of his lungs,” Mr.Cromwell needs to go!” While Howie and Kevin argued ,Cromwell was over there eating Kevin’s breakfast, waffles. It was too late, Howie and Kevin turned around ,the waffles were gone.Kevin and Howie went straight over to doggy daycare. Cromwell had stayed 1 hour knowing he wanted to leave.
“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian
“Then how do you explain all the things that still happen to them now?” Savannah then asked me now sounding implacable.
I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.
“Alex doesn’t have amnesia!” Kohta said. “I could’ve sworn that he flashed this angry look when I looked at him. Of course he remembers!”
Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.
Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.
Tricky Dick -- after a string of flops and vicious scandals -- emerges victorious, giving dual peace signs. The exoneration was full. The emotion was rampant. The Nixon Halloween mask looked phenomenal. Toward the left of the photograph, you’ll see Lee the eternal. Bruce was among the most dense of peachicks, with tough abs that wouldn’t behave. He was also a nonsense catapultist -- a real deal Republican: A lover of money, greed, and wealth beyond the Asian system of measurement. He was there to support Nichard Dixon, the vilified. It was a such a cool day. I remember when my daddy saw this on Tee Vee, he wept -- wept like a man. And then he flushed his troubles clean -- rinsed ‘em clean -- with the golden saver, the unreal batter of Coors
Katy meets with Gilbert down at the courthouse and sign documents with him and they hand them in to get stamped with photographers and their parents nearby. Their document is stamped with a void and a different document is put in an envelope and passed to Gilbert. He puts it in his pocket and tries to kiss Katy, but she quickly stepped away from him in fear.
Which was the reason why I hated Eros. I hated that I loved him. I hated that his one glance on me could lift up my mood instantly. For the last six years, ever since Mom and I moved to New York, I have been madly in love with the most unreachable guy in our school.
My mother used to say, "You're like a bull in a china shop." That was quite a bit of intelligent words coming from the mouth of a mama mouse. She had obviously been referring to my clumsy mistake of breaking our lovely living room lamp, which was bought for her by my grandfather, her father, which she had adored. She loved that lamp. I felt ashamed for breaking it, but I had a different feeling towards what she said than she had wanted me to.
I hate creative writing! I used to have an affection to write all the time, but now it just doesn’t give me pleasure anymore. Also, the books that I get from the class are horrendous too. It’s extremely tough to read a book when it doesn’t even excite anyone at all! reading and writing is exceptional when the writer, that is yourself, comes up with the idea, and your thoughts matter. But now review me, I’m forced to read an irrelevant book about a pathetic guy, and I’m writing about foolish Dylan Montgomery who thinks I’m broken! I’ve lose respect for something that I love to create
I woke up in a cold sweat. Don’t do this to yourself again, I told myself. He’s gone. He doesn’t want you, he chose her. I still remember the day you told me you loved someone else. I can still feel my face fall and hear my heart break. I wanted to hate you, but I wanted to hate her even more. But I couldn’t make myself hate either of you, especially not the person who once brought me so much happiness.