Creative Writing: Black Bear Diner

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.

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

I grabbed my runners and slammed the front door on her. When she was out of earshot, I started insulting her with every swear word I knew, in both English and Vietnamese. I started running as fast as I could, but I should stop there and explain the whole thing.

“MOM WHERE ARE WE GOING!!!” I said, feeling like I could burst at any moment it's a horrible thing to be car sick when you don't know what to do about it. “Don't worry dolly we will be there any second now” said Sharon,  but I just know her as mom. “I think i'm dying!” I said, sinking into the back car seat. Mom didn't say anything as with my brother they  just smiled. I wondered if they could see something I couldn't so I forced my body to sit up and unbuckle my seatbelt as my eyes lit up as if I saw an angel. It felt like everything was in slow motion. For months now I've been dying to go to Six Flags for one day and today was that day! “Do you feel better deer or should we go back home” mom said with an evil smile glancing at me through

Through the sob I heard her speak for the first time in a mousy voice.

My name is Jeffrey I was born in Mississippi 1989,June 9 where I came from a trailer there.We spent most of our life there in Mississippi. We made kin friends kinda more that family than friends and had a couple of hilarious jests together I felt like I was gunna spend the rest of my life there but I guess not.My family got into some trouble gambling so me and my family was thinking to flee and go to Alabama.So we took a destination stay with Aunt Sheela for a a week or a month to see if we can find a way to get out of this trouble.

The weather was pleasant, with cloudless blue skies and the air heavy with birdsong along their route. Accompanying those who were being sent to assess the damage at the Salsolan Outpost had been a choice — the same way drinking when thirsty was a choice — and bringing her slave had been just another facet.

The day was sunny and clear. We walked through the cool Chicago wind, bracing ourselves against it. Throughout the day we explored the city, visiting the Sears Tower, Navy Pier, and the Field Museum. I even got you to step out onto the Skydeck, despite your fear of heights. I dozed off on your shoulder on the train ride back home, dreaming about how great you had made my sixteenth birthday.

Saturday night in Muncie there was definitely only one place to be. It was a little hole in the wall bar named Valhalla. This bar is amazing. It's small but has a wicked light and sound system that puts bigger clubs to shame. And the place was definitely filled up with others like myself trying to get a taste of the Hoosier Heavy that is the Muncie metal scene.

It was mid november in the ozarks. A small mountain range located in the heart of the midwest. The trees are beautiful and the day is quite. One of the dead lies about 20 feet in front of me. I don't want to shoot him but he sees me. He starts to walk towards me. Although it doesn't look much like a walk. Its lifeless with no objective it justs walks, endlessly seeking nothing but what drives it to be alive. Human flesh, it's been 3 years now since the outbreak. Nobody knows how it started or where it came from. However it came hard and fast the first year was a nightmare, everyone i knew slowly died off. I've been on my own now for about 6 months. Using the wilderness and the rockiness of the ozarks to help keep me alive. The walker is slowly

Once upon a time, lived The Perry Farm Piglets names Barry, Cherry, and Larry. They were humble and valorous but most of all, they were enormous sneakerheads. Nike, Reebok, Under Armor, Adidas you name them they got em except for Jordans. But one day, flying out of Mount Olympus to congratulate them on collecting a grand total of one thousand shoes was The Clamp God Yao Ming. He opened a chest-like box and the piglets couldn't believe what they saw. "Air Jordan 11 Retro Custom made with 24 karats of plated gold!" said Barry quietly with excitement. "No way!" cried Cherry. "Yes way," Larry said with dead shot eyes on the shiny glamorous shoes. Yao flew back up to Mount Olympus with the best luck to the piglets, but that didn't last very long.

The monster looked around, it was getting close to closing time so there was not that many in Grillby’s. He carried on cleaning the glasses that hadn’t been drank from, glancing at the door nervously. As the remaining monsters slowly left one by one, Grillby sighed and began to close for the night. As he approached the door, key in hand ready to lock it, it swung open. The sudden opening sent him backwards, he stumbled and fell down.

Maybe I should have worn my checked flannel shirt and blended in. Instead, I chose to wear black cargo pants and a plain black and gray knit sweater. A heavy duty insulated charcoal parka, black gloves, and woollen cap, kept the biting wind at bay. My black boots crunched on the loose gravel of the road as I stepped off the sidewalk and made my way to the diner I’d finally spotted at the end of the street.

Heart pounding out of control, hands trembling pooling with sweat, legs wobbling like Jello. Looking up, I’m in a familiar airport. In my hand is a pass to pure paradise and I just can’t hold in the exhilarating excitement. The words “Hawaii here I come” burst out of me like I’d been waiting my whole life and many more to say that. I would be in Kona International Airport in no time. Well, eight in a half hours to be exact, but who’s counting.

The backstage door opens and we all walk onto the stage. Mr. H is up at the front of the stage telling us all to be quiet. As I am walking in, I notice how huge the Belchertown auditorium is. The rows and rows of seats must mean that a lot of students attend this school.