Creative Writing: Lakeview High School

Think about your experiences of writing at college. Which types of assignments have you found helpful in strengthening your writing skills? Where do you want to improve your writing? What’s the most useful advice you’re received that’s helped you improve your writing. Be as specific as possible.

Upper school English teacher Ms. L.C. says her favorite smell is that of a melting popsicle in the summer. “I love the sweet fructose of the popsicle juice,” said L.C. “Especially the way it combines with the smell of the wooden stick.”

This is it. The championship game is in the last quarter, down to a minute and a half. The line of scrimmage is at the 10-yard line. Jeffery, the quarterback, fields the snap, and he looks for an open receiver. Tommy, his best friend and the tight end, is unmanned in the end zone. The throw is perfect. The crowd roars in excitement that Thomas Jefferson High School won the State Championship.

But I only give ya ten minutes. Anymore and I calls the cops. Take the first turnstile, on your right” He pointed to the turnstiles that lead up into the platforms.

As what seemed to be an almost non-existent summer comes to an end, I have had time to reflect on what I hope to accomplish during my last year roaming the halls of James E. Taylor High School. I picture the impossible calculus problems that I will be required to solve or the piles of books I will struggle to finish as my literature exams near, but one thing that I am truly enthusiastic about is service. Improving my grades had been my most important goal as I began my high school career, however as this draws to an end, I have come to realize that the one thing that will truly leave a mark and will hopefully inspire others is the service that I have given to my community. Through Key Club, I have not only made friendships and bonds that I

It was my first day of college and I rushed through the campus of Colorado Mesa University to get to my first class. Even though I was in a hurry, I couldn’t help but notice how lush and green the grass was and how clean everything looked. I began to slow my pace as I found my attention captivated by the campus around me. The buildings looked new, the benches looked clean, the grass wasn’t brown and dry. Everything seemed so organized and well maintained, unlike my high school. After several minutes I made it to my first class and realized that slowing down to look around the campus made me even more late than I already was. I stood outside the door for a few minutes because I was so embarrassed to go in, fearing

The raspy wind rises in swirls, encircling the entirety of my lean body. The parched, coarse sand scrapes across my angular face, burying and scraping itself into the warmth of fresh, open wounds. The sun scorches my skin raw, condemning the violence, the blood, and the screams that seem to echo all throughout the lifeless mountain side. Welcome to Afghanistan. Bitter laughter fills my head.

“Mr. Josten, Mr. Josten!” yelled one of the eighth graders from my current math class in Crescent Middle School. I figured it would be another out of context question, as that was the norm for Andrew. Andrew had always seemed to be the one who tried his hardest, but could not focus on his schoolwork, or anything for that matter. I acknowledged his raised hand to hear, “what would happen if someone figured out how to pass things through time?” I figured since there was a small amount of time left in the class period, I could answer his question thoroughly since I majored in both math and science. “Well Andrew, if I had to guess I would say that someone would receive that object unexpectedly in a different time period. However, if someone creates

I’m currently a freshman at Cape Coral High School and so far everything has been going well. Teachers and staff are always eager to reaching out and helping students with concerns. Along with that, the hallways, the side stairways, and the happy, marching music are effective during the changing of classes.

A tall robust boy with dark hair and yellow eyes entered Ellingburg middle school school at exactly 7:55 on september the 18th, it was the second day of school. His big build is easy to locate in the rush of teens. There is a tap on his elbow he looks sideways, at a medium sized boy, something changes in his eyes. Jack is short compared to Sebastian. Jack is a skinny boy with long legs, his dark hair hanging loosely over his dark brown eyes. A loud bell rang and Jack grabbed Sebastian's arm. Sebastian froze for a second and then ran. Sebastian knows Jack just thinks of him as a friend, but it is different for him, he does not know if Jack knows.

In my sixth grade year, 2015, I was sitting on the couch reading a book. Suddenly, a scream rang out. As quick as a cheetah, my mom ran into our living room and showed me her computer’s email. Excitedly, I took the computer. On it, was a few sentences congratulating me on making ILMEA orchestra. It was a music festival with a choir, a band, and obviously, a orchestra. I was so excited, I had to call my teacher, Mrs. Lafranzo. So, no more than four months later, I was in my car heading to Oswego East High School for morning practice.

One day, I walked upstairs to my warm third grade class at John Stewart Elementary school. As I started my morning work, which usually included math, that was on my desk, my teacher, Mrs.Biddle announced, "Today we are going to pick table names!"

I drove slowly down the winding small gravel driveway surrounded by tall trees and forest that led to St. Agnes Cane Hill Psychiatric Hospital. I had been sent a letter by the director Mr. Jonathan Hammond, in the letter the kindly informed me that my great aunt Carolynne had passed away and since I was her only living relative it was up to me to come collect her belongings or they would be thrown away.

How am I still doing this? That is what I ask myself when I walk through the horrid english door. Through my middle school “career”, if you could call it that, I found myself loving narrative writing and having the choice to invent a story, lose myself in what i’m am creating. That is what I consider my strength, narratives, but everything else other than that, the analysis or persuasive, papers I did not excel in. sure I never got bad grades on them, but I do need to grow in those areas. So in this paper I will show you how I have benefitted through out my middle school writing career.

I will never forget that first day at this new kingdom of high school. It was a hot summer day in September as I entered the building. Sweat was in the palms of my hands, and my feet drug like cinder blocks across the tile. All i could think was how this could be any different from the last set of kids I had grown to despise.