Creative Writing: Dating

However the brightness of the day may have dimmed, but not the joy from the people around me.  Everyone is either watching kids play basketball on the old wooden framed basketball hoop or enjoying a match of badminton while the zip-line flies by overhead.  The night however, does bring a mood about the people of the island.  It's a mood of vigor and excitement!  When the sun is beginning to set and the sky portrays a magnificent array of yellows reds and pinks which reflects off the water making a sort of etched painting glistening in the falling sun.  As the sun sets, dinner has just finished and we all part our ways,  many people sit on the back porch overlooking the water, a few go into to the square where people begin to prep for the glorious bonfire.  Although, I choose to sit in Toad Hall, this place is constructed out of old slender burned wooden planks, that have five little rooms cut out inside.  Toad Hall on the outside looks like a little ranch style home with wooden slabs on the outside along with a red tin roof, which is where I like to call my second home.  As dinner comes to an end so does the daylight.  As I walk out of Toad Hall a dark haze has consumed the island and I am excited by the smell of  burnt pine coming from a ferocious.  The fire has seemed to brought people out to see what the light is, buts it's when they arrive they are surprised to see the glorious fire which has brought people together around the old brick fire pit.  Here we tell stories, sing songs and make s'mores until it is pitch black and the crowd has slowly dispersed into their cabins or tents and it is now I say my goodnights to my family and friends and tread my way back on the dirt path.  I can see the gazebo, as I bank the corner, it stands tall in the moonlight and the water has

My heart pounded as my feet slammed along the beaten path in the woods. When I was certain I had gained enough ground, I dove under a bush. I began to crawl from the path, the branches tugging on my hair. I smiled as flowers danced across my face.

In my perspective people around me have been dating since we entered middle, I don't know why but they have.I always wondered what they did because we just entered middle school and they can't do anything but hold hands, I don't think they went on dates because they were too young and I believe nobody’s parents would have allowed it during that time.

The tickling sensation of heat bathing his face forced him to slowly open his eyes. The sun’s golden rays stunned him blurring his vision as he quickly turned away. As his eyes adjusted, he was surprised to find the absence of his father. His heart started to pound and all the confidence and security that he had built up melted in the space of a few seconds. He jumped up flinging his sleeping bag on to the ground and looked around taking note of his surroundings. To him, it felt as if the trees were suddenly sent out to attack him like stealthy assassins gaining on him as they moved side to side from the winds steady breeze. The faint noise of bugs and animals chattering sounded like the grunt of a predator before it hunts its prey. A colossal cloud

I weave in and out of the last of the summer apple trees, beside the deep pool, the weeping willows cry out as the wind rattles their bones. The howling tempestuous wind carries me into a clearing where a little girl, with her hair like an inferno splayed around her head like a delicate band, lies asleep in the silvery moonlight. I fly right up to her and land on her chest, where a scarlet black rose lies dead upon her breast. I wake up. I don’t know where I am.

My shoelaces whipped at the backs of my ankles, urging me forward. Rain-drenched, I ran. I had felt the venom of desperation before, but never of this caliber -this was its purest form. It tasted of whiskey. I 'd never been fond of whiskey. The branches of the fir trees scraped against my cheeks and I forced myself to feel each individual needle. I deserved as much. His voice laughed “Come find me” amongst the trees, echoing throughout the forest. It was a wet winter, as wet as one would think a winter could be with Washington 's climate. I slipped on the moss coated roots and sliced my right cheek on a jagged rock. By midnight, it would all be over.

She took a quick look around the last turn before the main street that led to the school. She noticed several boys and girls in the alleyways on both sides of the narrow street. It looked as if every class at her school, several young ladies and even her teacher waited for her in ambush. She ducked back before they could see her, hiked up her dress, and ran as fast as her little legs could carry her in the opposite direction of the angry mob. She didn’t stop until she had found the forest path that she needed and breathed a sigh of relief when she heard no one in pursuit. The forest surroundings felt different for some reason and it frightened her. It had a forbidding feel to it this dawn like she had never felt in the past.

I didn't visit the farm that year. Still, the fire never faded from my mind. I stared at the dancing flames, which now were not only blazes, but also unforgettable moments I had at my foster homes. I felt the cozy heat, yielded not by burning wood but by warm hugs. And I became truly fascinated by the blazing unpredictability - not the sudden sparks that lighted the night , but the uncertainties that made me grow

Once they were there, the quarter-mile trek to their place had to be made. It was a small, circular clearing in the cone-bearing woods. The area around the fire pit was dirt, for safety reasons. On the outskirts of the copper-colored dirt were five large, round logs arranged in a circle for sitting. Just a few feet beyond the logs, the forest began again in copious amounts of vegetation and growth, like an untamed lion. That night’s weather was just right. The cool air was

My shuffled jog catches on the roots of a tree and I’m hurled through the air. Sharply landing in a small clearing, I see William sitting and drinking from his canteen in a innocent state of bliss. Does he realize we’re lost? No one will miss us, I don’t suspect father even knew we were coming. I get up and strenuously crawl over to him, my muscles tight and aching. Silently he hands me the bottle, and I gulp down the remnants of our water. Tired and hungry we sit for few minutes before continuing on. We don’t know where we’re going or factly where are; but, we can hear the clouds tumbling in and anywhere becomes better than

Rach, can you do the dishes before we go to the party?” My mom’s voice called up the stairs. No, I don’t want to do the dishes. “I’ll be there in a minute,” I sighed, sinking farther into my cocoon, pulling the fuzzy blankets closer to my face and breathing their sweet lavender, cotton sent. I felt secure, for a moment. In the next moment, Anxiety came. He nestled his dark face tenderly in my neck then squeezed my face firmly into his, my ear pressing painfully against his icy gray lips. He dug his talons into my stomach and he slowly wrapped me into his bitter cold body. I shivered. Another presence entered, wrapped in a blanket nearly as black as Hell, He took the dripping wet blanket off himself, laid it on me and then evaporated.

Mark stood outside the town’s gate, he looked back and knew he might not return. Mark turned, and he stepped on the rocky ground and began his journey not knowing what lay in store for him. The howling wind picked up, Mark walked in cold submission. He looked for shelter and he soon spotted a large forest line which looked dense and thick. Night was arising and the

The colors are astonishing. No longer does green dwell the trees. It seems the entire world is on fire. The bright yellow has mingled with the orange to create small flames, flickering from the branches of trees. They fall to the ground and ignite the earth. It has been said before that fire is pure and cleans everything it touches. It takes something broken and dead and gives it one last spurt of beauty. One last goodbye before it leaves forever. The bed of the fire is a deep blue, so searing it burns any who come near. The heat makes my eyes water and stings my uncovered face. I want to get as close as possible. To see the embers be swept with the glorious reds and royal blues. The heat is

Once she was pushed in closer to the table, she relaxed just a bit and rested her hands together on the table in front of her while waiting for him to make his way back around to his own seat. The mention of her being a vet and thanking her for her service had been unexpected, and her eyebrows raised for a few seconds before she managed to get her expression under control again. "Oh-" She had been perfectly fine with going dutch, or hell, paying for the meals herself if things ended up going south, and she's so far out of the loop when it comes to dating etiquette she doesn't know how to respond right away. "That's very kind of you." She fidgets, rubbing at the side of her hand for a second. "I've always been a fan of good ol' ham and cheese

The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.