Creative Writing Examples

We drew apart, and I slowly climbed into my gray Maxima. She did not cry, but who knows what happened when I turned the corner. I don 't think I want to know.

He woke up in a cold sweat on the floor of a strange, rusty iron elevator, there were steel barrels, crates, and coils of rope. He felt the elevator stop and he could faintly hear people talking above him. Suddenly, big iron doors above him swung open and he was blinded by the light that came out. “Hey there!” a voice said. “Well you must be confused, let me help clear things up a bit. I’m Ethan, I run things around here”.

I ran, my feet bloodied and aching, my ankle unsteady and shrieking in pain. I ignored it, gasping

"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.

Turning off the TV, Andrew grabbed his keys and rushed to the garage, angry for not being more cautious. Driving down the street as fast as he could to get to the cleaners, he said, “I wonder if Margaret has her phone. I will call it,” he said, pushing the buttons, he waited, and said, “Oh, no; it went directly to voice mail. She must have turned it off, but why would she do that?”

There was a sense of impeding doom that turned my stomach. Although I couldn't bear to look at the mask I held outreach to you, my eyes were tempted to look to you. I side-swiped a glance at you before you took the mask. My eyebrow arched as you looked at me, visibly distraught. My eyes did a double take, and my gaze fell curiously back on you. I sensed a feeling of unease from you, and became immediately confused. “Your master never teach you Torture 101, Mr. Ren?” Although I was mocking you, there was a sense of concern in my voice, as I looked over to the Dug and then back at you. “You look like you've seen a ghos-” Holding out the mask in front of you, I watched you intently as your eyes fixated on the item. My eyes narrowed at that reaction, and suddenly, it made sense to me. Perhaps you had seen a ghost. Fully educated in the many various connections within the Force, I wondered if in this moment you had seen anything. If in this moment, his darkness had fallen on you. I pondered the horrors you had witnessed... and if any one of those horrors was my own. I wondered if it was pain you experienced, and even... if that pain was my own.

When I was a kid, about 5 to 8 years old, my hands would always get cold whenever the surrounding air is chilly. My dad would always tell me to rub them together, like you would in order to make fire. And so I did it. I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed. My fingers grind against each other from the tips of my little fingers to the base of my palm, but none of this worked. My hands still are cold, stone cold. Then my dad said after watching me rub for a whole 3

It’s December 2014 and it’s Christmas time in Newcastle. As usual the grey sky lays like a cozy blanket over the city. Somewhere around the Christmas madness a boy is walking around. Among the smell of cinnamon and food from the Christmas market, the sounds from people, cars and buses. Little noises are heard from pigeons fighting over a piece of dirty bread. As the boy navigates trough the crowds of people he is completely unaware of something life changing that is about to happen. This wonderful boy has sandy blonde curly hair that is partially covered by a grey woolly hat, he’s wearing a black cozy warm jacket with grey sweatpants and worn out vans. Wrapped under his shirt the wires from his headphones are just hanging loose on his chest

I slowly walked into the dark and daunting room. She has beckoned for me once again. She always has and she always will, no matter how many years we spend apart. She was like a drug to me. I hated the addiction but would easily fall back into the habit as soon as she would offer herself to me.

I look out the window above the sink as my mom replies. "Ok, sounds fine, bring a swimsuit, and that light purple sweater for night time, and hiking boots and old sneakers, and LOTS of socks, and-" I listen to her as I search out the window for nothing in particular, until I see a movement in the window of Camden's house on the first floor. I stare at it as my mom drones on, and Camden emerges from behind the curtain and waves creepily.

And now it had all come crashing down. Smoke burned her lungs, but she didn't move, couldn't move.

Thank you Jennifer for the response and the example. I am also very scared to have a B. Last week i must confess i honestly thought i would have a B. This is a fear factor motivation for me. Your example makes me think that anytime i have too much information i can use freewriting technique. I said freewriting because i would have the free will to write everything and anything i want to write using the writing process guidelines. I would then read and choose which points i would like to factor into my essay considering the word count. This would help me get arrange the essay according to the rubric. Thank yu for your wonderful post, it really has a lot one can learn

‘Testing, testing, 123,’ a voice spoke from the intercom in the top corner of the room. Devon waited for the small red light to momentarily flash to start speaking. ‘You’re heard loud and clear, sir.’ He relayed.

Again, the dark laughter echoed in her head. Shit, shit, shit. She was so damn stupid, so bloody arrogant. In spite of the sunglasses she wore to lessen the risk of overstimulation to her senses, the lenses were no safeguards against the weighted stares of the people on the bus, and Tung wasn’t here acting as a buffer.

This is what I get; this is what I get for recommending an adoption and failing to breed.