Essay about Creative Writing - Belonging

1278 WordsMar 14, 20116 Pages
Creative Writing I jump back as a black feline shoots across the path in-front of me. I catch a glimpse of its matted fur; a screeching hiss pierces the night air as it encounters a mammal in the undergrowth. They say a black cat at night is bad luck, but I honestly doubt my luck could get any worse in light of recent events. “Get out, you don’t belong here anymore”, “Just looking at you makes me sick. Leave now and get out of our lives”. It’s funny how the ones who are meant to love you the most, can turn on you so easily. My adolescent legs strain as I continue along the path aimlessly, my stomach rumbles in emptiness as I realise I left without food. How can one think of such things at a time like that? I most certainly didn't, and…show more content…
I weave myself through the animal-made track, slipping on loose stones and running into the occasional webbed trap. Eventually, I make my way to a clearing with scattered belongings and a stool sized log surrounding a scrap wood fire. A twig snaps behind me and I swing around, instincts putting me in a fighting mindset. Instead of a threat, I am greeted by a grey haired man with shabby clothes and a dirty beard. He stares at me for a few seconds as if evaluating me as a risk and then speaks to me in a calm voice. "“howdy stranger, can I help you with anything?”" I try to reply but still surprised my words fail me. Instead, he continues to speak, "“that’s a deep looking cut you’ve got on your forehead". He moves towards me, limping a little, reducing pressure on his left leg naturally. I step back warily, but he swiftly covers the ground between us and grabs my shoulder with his left hand. His unclean breath blows in my face for a moment, and a shiver of fear and disgust runs down my spine. The shiver leaves as he turns his head to the side, seemingly searching for something on his belt. Out of a small bag attached to his belt he produces a plastic packet. After tearing open the package with his teeth he pulls out the prize, and dabs the alcohol soaked swab on my wound. I flinch as the alcohol seems to burn my unprotected flesh. I grab my forehead in agony
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