Creative Writing: Home

One day, cutting through the swamp, David comes across the remains of old Indian souls and discovers a skull with jewelry still buried on the bodies. As David kicks at the skull, he hears a voice and looks up to see a black man seated on a stump just looking. The man, wearing a black sash around his body, has a soot-stained face, which makes it appear as if he works in some fiery place. David soon recognizes the stranger as the devil, the black man. Twenty years later we had a family reunion with all my relatives and they started talking about the fire.

I play football here at ULM and we have been in our fall camp for the last 23 days. It is a mental, physical, and emotional strain and tensions are running high. One day early on in camp we were out in the blistering heat practicing. We were almost finished when we called a screen pass and I was going to be the main blocker for the play and if I messed up it wouldn't work. Then as soon as the ball was snapped I stepped with the wrong foot first. This slowed me down and the defender was able to clobber our receiver behind the line of scrimmage. My position coach, Coach Clark, immediately ran over yelling, "What are you doing? Where is the direction you can't lose your man on that play?" I knew what I had done wrong, "I can't let him get up the

"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.

Thelma takes his hand and leads him a few feet from the grave. She removes a small bowl from the pocket of her jacket and sets it down. From her other pocket she removes a small papersack, and from it takes out a small amount of sage. She places it into a bowl. Then she lifts the bowl up into the air and prays.

As they begin to ascend the stairs in silence, Annie can’t help but feel a sense of dread knot within her stomach. It makes her slightly nauseous, knowing that she’ll have to face friends and relatives of the people she’d murder—

She hurried away from the window, fearful that the thing would look up and see her watching. She scurried into the closet and closed her eyes, praying that it wouldn’t get inside. The girl heard feet hit the floor near the window and knew it had entered her tower. She peeked out through the slats in the closet door and gasped at what she saw.

Frantically trying to find her way up the cold, dark stairs she trips over old, dirt covered shoes, dusty ragged dolls who’s dresses have been torn, and moldy glass bottles. As she gets to the the top she pulls trying to open the brown, wooden door, her hope of getting out anytime soon starts to vanish as the flickering light goes off behind her. Never being in the basement for very long , she never noticed how badly it had smelled of insects, and rotting mice. Deliberately she climbs back down the uneven staircase to the cobwebbed entrance.

The door shut behind him and Georgaina walked down the steep, grassy hill. She was near the bottom when a pain, familiar to her, ripped through her abdomen like a dull, serrated knife. She collapsed, gasping for breath and clutching her stomach. Slowly, after what felt to her like hours, the pain went from a sharp knife to a dull ache. Tears had filled her eyes and she blinked them back as she stood cautiously, not trusting her own legs. She took a deep breath, and focused on putting one foot in front of the other, determined to get to the forest that lay around the hill. Her head pounded, but she figured she would worry about it

We got out of the car and the second I shut the door out came the Lopez family. She said to me “Theres no way in this entire world that I could do to repay you for raising this money to keep my family safe in a home that has secure walls and a door with a lock on it.” “Here i find myself thinking that if anyones life is going to be changed, its mine, and I'm so grateful for this opportunity” I replied. As the day goes on children from all over the community are coming over to the house begging us to play soccer with them, braid there hair, and take pictures with them. My heart was filled with so much joy Putting so much hard work into something and being able to say that not only did your hard work pay off for yourself, but it paid off for

It is three years into the war, WWII, and Oscar is turning seven tomorrow. Although the sun is creeping under the horizon, Oscar is still as energetic as a rabbit!Because his parents were getting rations along with Oscars sister Elle, Oscar is staying home alone.

“Anything that can help us find out who did this.” I said, examining the crime scene. I walked towards what used to be the glass case that held the crown, but was now a useless, shattered cube.

"Dom would be so proud of you, Lottie," Frankie said as Charlie took her seat, leaning against the platinum blonde male, her head on his shoulder lightly. Energy, adrenaline, emotion all swam through her veins like liquid fire, leaving her shaken. Add in thinking she'd seen Eric - a thought confirmed mere moments later - and she was left shaken. Would he ask her at work? Would he ask after her brother and learn why she was so committed to their cause? Would he ask and care? Would he care at all. Charlie nodded and looked up at Frankie, smiling softly, "Maybe, but it's hard to be proud when you're not here."

Warm crimson ran down her arm leaving a metallic smell that filled the room to the brim. The silver slit of metal she used slipped out of her hand as her vision became blurred and her breathing became faint. She slowly came in and out of consciousness while her arms held a passage for her demons to escape from. She woke once again to feel a pounding in her head that consumed her thoughts, she tried yelp for help but only a small groan came out.

A cry echoed from the heart of an old abandoned building. Quiet wails filled the empty hallways, the haunting echo ringing in my ears. Quickly, I whipped my head around to look for signs of possible footprints, or another soft whimper perhaps. “What could be causing such weeping?” was the first thought that entered in my train wreck of a mind. Suddenly, a pungent stench of fear filled my nose as I wandered about the maze of halls, my focus on the small trail of blood leading down the hallways. Perception and keened sensed activated for me as adrenaline rushed through my nerve-stricken body. As I darted about, scurrying around with senses on edge, I found in front of me a large room with towering ceilings.

I dragged myself up to the first landing, a sickly sheen of sweat already clinging to my features. Exhausted I cling desperately to the banister, my knuckles whitening, the yellowing ‘out or order’ sign mocking me from the door of the lift. Resentment piles like spittle in the corner of my mouth as I study the reflection in the large metal lift doors, the layer of dust distorts it, but the dark eyes that meet mine are unmistakably my own. Huge black buttons dissolved into my skull, the sockets around them sunken, the eyelids thin and grey, they seem set to low in my forehead as my dark, limp hair retreats from them. Even my skin seems grey, sickly and sagging around the gauntness of my jaw. A grimace wounds my face and I bring my bony fingers up to cover those ugly eyes. I’m surprisingly no longer tired; the urge to escape this skeletal image is enough motivation to face the rest of my climb. I tackle the stairs like a mine field, avoiding the discarded take-out menus and children’s toys that litter them, coughing violently in response to the familiar stench of cigarette smoke until I finally meet the white door that hides my home, door number 6.