Creative Writing: Fig Tree Hill

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.

Shimmer was shaking, her body trembling; she had never been this fearful yet excited at the same time. She had been driving for hours before her adrenaline calmed down. She found she was getting hungry, and wanted out of Luc’s clothes. She pulled into a little fishing village that was rather picturesque. It had little shops, cafes, and a couple restaurants along one side of the road, and wharfs, fishing boats, and fish shops on the other side. She drove all the way through the little town until she was on the outskirts and pulled into a wooded area. She wiggled out of Luc’s clothes while still seated in the car she didn’t want to get caught in oversized men’s clothes it would defiantly appear suspicious. She glanced around making sure no one

“Has your energy depleted Bridgette?” Amiable, despite the apparent lack of care he was affording either her or her visage, his thumb trailing across one of the faces blinking up at him from that page. Rubbed half-semi-circle into that image, lips pressed together with a fondness that didn't translate properly onto his features. “Should you prefer, at any point, we can further discuss things- your conversation has always been anything but engaging darling, perhaps you'd rather conserve your strength for the latter?” Was a slow swivel, his nail pressing into the very center of that face, eyebrows just barely lifted as to the conversation he was verbally carrying out, that 'no' just near beneath the decibel needed for the utterance at all. Paused, in his own reply, slow roll of his eyes upwards to that back that was presented him- whisper of something behind that reflection of his eyes just before she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. [I] “No sir.”[/i] Better- tap of his fingers against his table his only response as his gaze fell once more- that barely recognized rip within those pages from where that crescent shaped nail had dug into it... irritated, that flick of the paper over, face now covered

The driver, Cecilia Blair, of vehicle 1 was traveling north through the intersection of N. State St. and Flint St. when she had a collision with vehicle 2. The driver, Jacqueline Muir, of vehicle 2 was heading west on Flint St. when she was struck by vehicle 1.

He stepped into the headlight of my car as a ground-shaking BOOM following a massive burst of light shook the earth.

I never knew the Smokies were so close to my grandparent’s retirement village. Every summer all the cousins jammed into Grandpa’s Ford for our jaunt up the mountains. But back then the hills had no name. They were recognized only by the pop of our ears and the pink silk trees bowing down to the highway. Since those days I have grown partial to any patch of grass with “National Park” tacked to its title. Today the mimosas still tossed their petals to traffic, and the truck remembered its ever-present perfume of damp golden retriever. But today we were going to The Great Smoky Mountains National Park. “Cade’s Cove, next left,” the road sign read, and two bikes bumped along on the car hitch.

The Florida summer of 2014 was, to describe it in a single word, hot. Sweltering, boiling, hot-enough-for-me-to-buy-a-twenty-dollar-handheld-electric-fan heat engulfed the town of Orlando and the Disney World park, drowning attendants in the thick, sultry summer air. Thousands of people and families gathered in the parks daily, which obviously wasn’t a help concerning the heat, and each person had at least one person in common with each other: obvious signs of being out in the heat for too long of a time, including sweating profusely and having a constant “I’m in the happiest place on earth but the heat makes me want to die” look on their faces. As per usual in these conditions, Splash Mountain seemed to be quite popular, offering the only

Jump!!! My dog jumps on my bed looking at me. I could tell he was going to bark closing my ears from the loud screechy bark. And then he jumps off my bed only to play with his rope. I sit up staring at my phone that was bright I look at my dog waiting for me to get up.

An idea was tracing through the back of her mind, and so she thought to try and best and quickly she could manifest how she felt. Several minutes minutes of failure of preforming such mental acrobatics propelled Katie towards the decisive choice of going to her closet. As she opened the mirror door, Katie gazed into her own ocean green eyes, and revealing a bounty of tired clothing nobody really wore. Her slender arm reached a slender hand to grasp an engraved brown leather booklet.

When Lelia got her first glance of Owen, her mouth dropped open, and her flirtatious eyes widened, followed by an exaggerated, methodical blink. Her feet felt as if they were glued to the shiny tiled floor as she stopped, paralyzed in awe with no chance to compose herself. However she snapped out of her trance when she heard a decidedly familiar voice say, “Lelia Elizabeth Russell, what are you doing downstreet?”

Emerald Bay is located on the right side of Catalina Island. Catalina Island is 46.9 miles from the city of Los Angeles. The climate is warm. Some of the native plants are aleppo pine, brickle bush, and the fire poppy. Some of the native animals are bison, feral cat, and the black buck. There are many things to do at this wonderful camp.

In the year of 1942 on a sunny day there was a family that was hiking in Deadwood, SD. They were hiking by these tall pine trees. They were different colors….some of them were a very dark red, several trees were dark and light green, many trees were kind of like a weird yellow greenish color.

Sarah Finnegan (#1 S.O.), who was an avid reader (#4 D.U.), was spending her time engrossed in her private, extensive library. She (#1 S.O.) was currently (#3 D.U.) diving into one of her own works, a self help journal that related to how to deal with certain people in her life. Reading (#4 S.O.) slowly and carefully as she went along, not willing to miss a single detail. While (#5 S.O.) she was searching the journal, her old friend Antonio was swinging from a chandelier, directly (#3 D.U.) in front of the library. Antonio was ill (3sss). His brain was fried (3sss). He was sometimes crazy (#6 S.O.)(3sss). However, Sarah, calmly aware of the circumstances, did not have any mental disabilities; in fact, she was quite capable. She (#1 S.O.) was all too used to this type of behavior from Antonio, so his swinging from the chandelier did not phase her. Slowly raising her head, she glanced up at the pendulum. There was Antonio and the chandelier swinging back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, it was endless.

It warmed his spark to see the shorter mech smiling. Bumblebee had been smiling less and less as of late. It was starting to worry him. With Optimus gone, Smokescreen could understand how hard it was for Bumblebee, for all of them, but he couldn’t bear to stand by watching his friend run himself down to the bare wires.