Creative Writing: Barbra Gordon

My legs are shaking with pain, but I need to know where I am and what strange things lie outside of that door way. Slowly I am making my way there, I hear people having a conversation just outside. I haven’t a clue what they are saying, it seems to be in some odd language. Finally I’m at the door. Terrified, I grab the knob and start to open it. It squeaks when I swing it open. In the hall I see no one, just white walls with white tile. “What the,” I say to out loud. I could have sworn I heard someone. My eye catches my room number, 387, it has my name on it. I look right and left, but see nothing expect florescent lighting and shut doors. I go to the door across from mine and try to open it. Locked, that’s odd. I try the next one, locked once again. I keep going, now at room 365 I give the knob a turn and it actually comes open. I hesitantly wander into the area. It looks the same as mine, minus the painting on one of the walls. It is an extremely abnormal painting. It depicts an out of the ordinary creature. “Why would this be in a hospital?” I whisper to myself.

“No, you can't make me come with you. I don’t want to face it,” Genevieve screamed.

I woke startled, dazed and confused basically drowning in my own sweat. Where on earth am I. I got up and spun around and all I could see was four blank walls that seemed like they were closing in on me. The only thing that stood out was a lone door placed right in the middle of one of the walls. Without even thinking about it, I started to carefully creep forward towards the door, but as I did this I could hear movement on the other side and the door began to open. I was lightning quick to react and rushed up to the wall right beside the door and nervously watched as a large figure began to enter the dimly lit room. He looked around and noticed the empty space and shouted out in surprise, but I was quick and without a second thought grabbed him and slammed his head against the wall, knocking him out cold.

I was here I was walking threw the amazing wooden doors into the most fantastic park. I was standing on the floors of the GREAT WOLF LODGE. I was there with Amanda, Lyla, Calista, and Kira. We all quickly walked over to the check in desk so that we could get our wristbands and bust over to the water park. There were about one, two, three, four five people standing in front of us. While we were standing in line there was an amazing window that was huge and we could see every person and every ride in the park. We saw one of the biggest slides there we say the most crazy slide it was called HOWLIN TORNADO. We finally got to the front of the line and we were ready to get our wristbands on. The manager slipped on a teal waterproof wristband the said “GREAT WOLF LODGE”

When they reach Estelle Louise’s driveway, Clemmy Sue eased the Ford into the entrance, and stopped thirty feet from her mailbox.

Beth was raised by the mob. She’s never gotten herself into a situation her family couldn’t drag her out. So when those closest to her wind up dead or missing, she’s left to her own devices. She quickly realizes how hard it is to survive on her own.

She held the picture of Sam in her head. The white-hot center of her mind held the man immobile. Bewitchment. Sam stayed fixated, snared.

Looking for a welcoming house where you can hear the man and women crying in distress from the exterior of the house? Well you've come to the right place. At 230 2nd St, Fall River, MA 02721. This is a house that will make you shudder from the agonizing feel of this house. From the luscious green yard that kept a forsaken murderer behind the fence. Plus the sidewalk next to this house tells a strange story that you've never heard before… And possibly never hear again. A bonus for this house is the gory smells of rotting bodies and metal will make you vomit. You can smell it from two blocks away. No one will want to come to this gory house.

Weren't there more superior tasks for a man of Roe's ability? What did he have to do to be given a task that didn't somehow demean him? Undoubtedly the answer laid in inciting a riot himself, but Roe did not have the means, or the people skills to do that.

“Woop woop!” went the police car “Hot cheese!” I yelled as I started to back away from the store ‘God why did I do that’ I muttered to myself as I dropped the rock and ran away for the broken glass then I ran as fast as I could faster than I have ever ran. I can't go back, I can't go back I thought to myself as i was slipping through the barb wire of a field of grass, miles and miles of long uncut grass so I ran in the grass that was taller than me as I was running I found a hole, bigger than me, once again and I went for it “It'll have to do for now” I said to myself while I was crawling in the dark musty damp hole in the ground “sheesh this thing could fit a bear in it, maybe even five” suddenly a deep grunt came from behind me “Oh @#%&!”

Let me start this story off with a question. Have you ever entered a room with some undoubtful reason, then completely forget why you are there in the first place? There's more to it, and I think I might have cracked the code with an explanation like no other, proven by the human eye itself. Have you ever felt an itch on your body, as if something was crawling under your skin, but find nothing after searching? Well, I am starting to figure it out, last question. Have you ever became extremely disoriented and felt as if the entire world was slipping beneath your feet? Well, enough with the questions, lets get started with the story itself.

“Come back Bonnie,” yelled Aaron. Aaron, a 7 year old boy, wore khaki shorts with a blue sweatshirt when he got separated from his favorite goat. She was a 1 year old black and white alpine goat named Bonnie. Aaron was being interned when the guard at the door took Bonnie away from Aaron, to a pen for farm animals where Aaron did not know where it was located. Every door and whatch tower had been guarded by military people.

The energy is high on the field today as the score is 2-2, what do you think about that Bob?”

I pulled the arrow back and was aiming for the bushy tailed animal clinging to the base of the oak tree. One eye closed to make sure my aim was right. I let go and was thinking I would never hit it. The arrow flew across the yard and slashed the squirrel in the side. I freaked.

Writing is a skill that everyone develops differently. Writers have developed their own ways to write and to communicate to the readers their ideas, thoughts or stories, these ways are not the same by all the authors. For example, Imagination is something unique to each person, and it gives the special magic for each written. Some writers can describe their style and inspiration different from the others. As these four writers which talent involve more and more people every day: Stephen King, Wally Lamb, Karen Thompson and Marcus Zusak. Each of these persons with different ways of expression and inspiration, but with the same vocation. Initially, Stephen King, who thinks that to star writhing its necessary, just one idea