Creative Writing: Memorial Day

You know that feeling you get when you're startled or alone? Maybe more like that split second where nothing feels right? For me , Olivia Ritter, that is my only feeling. Living in the middle of a war zone, all alone, basically diminishes all hope for a good future.

I cried thinking of not being in Neil's presence again but am quickly reminded of how much his presence blessed us whenever AJ and I visited. He was such a kind beautiful soul. His art in sharing the history of Maine and political thought was so fascinating and left more to be desired. Thank you, Neil. You have been world-class.

A true friend is someone who is always by your side and appreciates who you really are. I am Liesel Memminger and I was fortunate enough to have Rudy Stiener as my best friend. He was kind and compassionate yet a Saukerl at the same time, a mixture only Rudy could accomplish, and I am here to share my personal experiences with him.

THE WAGON CREEPED AND CREAKED ALONG the silent and empty road, weather-beaten and riddled with neglect, its wheels clinging desperately on to what remained of the wooden framework. A poor hobbling nag led the cart along the westward path and like the burden in tow it had seen a great deal better days, and it showed: a frazzled mane hung limply from its sagging head, and sharp ribs poked out from its side, threatening to erupt from the confines of the paper-thin skin holding them back. Still too far off to see the face of the driver clearly, a young man, alert and wary, stayed put, resting on one knee behind a group of thick, prickly bushes. Squinting and blinking the sweat away, he remained as still as possible, shielded by the foliage, imperceptible

Four Union soldiers barged in. Each had their gun raised. The first soldier barked at Oscar. But he didn’t respond. Oscar just stood there with his hands raised above his head. He looked the first soldier dead in the eyes. I watched the first soldier squint his eyes into tiny slits. The other three soldiers were searching the bunker but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Oscar. I was so focused on Oscar that I didn’t see one of the soldiers coming toward the bookshelf. He grabbed me by the arm and threw me onto the ground, hard. I turned my body to look at Oscar. The first soldier raised his gun and spoke again, but I wasn’t listening to what he said.

“Molly Starkey?” the receptionist called out signaling to Molly. “Come through please.” she said leading her into Dr. Neethling’s room. “Do you want me to come with you?” Sue asked her daughter. “No, its okay…thanks mom.” Molly replied. After taking a sample of her urine and blood pressure, Dr. Neethling asked her to sit down. “So Molly, how old are you?” he asked without looking up at her. “I’m seventeen, doctor.” she replied still thinking that she had picked up a stomach bug. “Do you have a boyfriend, Molly?” he asked again, this time he was looking at her. “Yes I do, why?” Molly asked nervously. “Are…are you sexually active, Molly?” he asked her again. “Dr. Neethling… why are you asking me all these strange questions? What’s wrong with me?” she

The world turned to into a battle zone, the death toll was around five billion. The war lasted for ten years.”She lays pictures on the table. They're yellowed and worn. Their depiction’s showing horrid things: women, children, and men hiding under debris, and the remnants of buildings, their eyes wide with fear. Colossal building reduced to rubble and ash. Deep trenches dividing the land, men with huge guns by their sides. Worst of all, the amount of dead bodies strewn over the imploding streets, like glitter thrown in the air. How could people do that, and feel justified? “The aftermath was disastrous.” She says, “ Cities that were once thriving, cultural centers, were now piles of glass, brick, cement, and crumbling ruins. The land that was

Multitudes of people are coming to faith in Christ in Iraq! Even though they face persecution from all sides, it seems like the Christian faith is growing faster than ever. It seems to boggle unbeliever’s minds when they see this. They can’t seem to understand why people would die for this. They look at stories like the ones below and shake their heads. “What a shame!” they think. “One more person dead, because they wouldn’t reject their religion.” They don’t understand why we would be able to withstand this persecution. How could they? They do not put their faith in the source that they need to. They are blinded by their false sense of security! They do not understand the danger that they are nearing. That is why we must minister

At a street corner miles off the Manhattan bay sat a man. The December winds and darkness accompanied him. He whistled with the tune of the passing trains and traveled throughout the day from one part of the street to another with the passing sun. The lethargic bones in his body and his hunched gait reminded one of an old tire swing, pivoting with every gust of wind. He walked on the street with an empty coffee cup, sifting the little change inside it. As the day went on, masses of people passed by the man with indifference. What is one brick relative to a whole wall? His shoulders looked burdened with grief, but could easily be mistaken for a drunken posture. Drunk on grief, though he would think with a humorless smile. As his routine continued,

While driving Simone turned on the radio. They were listening when a breaking news came through saying, “Justine Miles was brutally killed by gang members during a gang fight, if anyone have any information on the whereabouts of Angelica Samuels, Tina Blackwell and Lisa Cantrell please call the police because they are wanted for questioning, if you see these females please do not approach them because they are considered armed and dangerous.” Marie cried, “No, No, No, this can’t be happening, not to us.” Angelica started crying, she cried, “I didn’t do anything, it was the other girls, Oh my God, Why is this happening to me?” Simone said, “Tomorrow we’ll take you in so they won’t think you’re running.” “But it wasn’t me, it was T-Bone.” said Angelica. “Angelica, you were with them, so if you go there first, then maybe they can help you.” said Simone. “I can’t believe all of this.” said

Dr. Livesey had looked the same as ever. “What’s bringin’ y’all to these parts?” asked Dr. Livesey. Me and Dogger looked at each other almost asking with our eyes to see which one was going to answer the Doctor. Then Dogger replied, “Well, mainly to catch up with an old friend, and to relieve you from a past patient.” The doctor looked confused for a moment then asked, “What do you mean, which patient?” Dogger looked at me signaling me to answer Dr. Livesey. “There was an incident at the Admiral Benbow, and it seems that the Captain has passed from a stroke.” I answered. Dr. Livesey looked saddened from this information. “Oh well I’m terribly sorry for your loss son.” He said in a weak tone of voice.” It was silent for a while before Dr. Livesey spoke up, “Well y’all are welcome to stay the night here, there’s an extra room at the end of this hall here.” Dogger and I gladly excepted and walked down the hall to the room we were appointed. We sunk into the two narrow mattresses, and while Dogger had fallen asleep instantly, I was occupied by examining my flimsy old packet, and what I saw I was amazed

Beads of sweat rolled down my face as my eyes darted back and forth at the recruits slowly trickling in onto the bleachers. My hands were clammy, knife hands overlapped in the middle of my back as I stood in formation at parade rest. I frowned my eyebrows together, analyzing each recruit and singling out the ones that looked like a mess. Messy bun? No siree! Stubbly face? Where was that razor? It was Black Saturday, the first day at the LASD Sheriff Explorers Police Academy, a leadership institute where high school students learn to become better leaders and get a firsthand look into the lives of Police Officers. This rigorous program marked the first step of my journey in becoming a better leader.

Kevin said “I am making a good decision my dog Comwell needs this “. Comwell has never been so happy in his lifetime . Kevin said to his Dad “Comwell actually feels like he has a purpose in life , and it’s like a hobby to him .” Dad said to Kevin”Just because it’s a dog doesn't mean it needs to be happy all of the time .” Kevin said “What if you were a dog would you want to go to the park and play “? Kevin’s Dad said “Well I guess I would want to play around in the park but i’m not a dog Kevin so what do I care “.

Soon we were all on our way to the westing house. I started to shake but I couldn't show them though so I grabbed my arm. As we approached the building theo stepped on me .Oww!, “Sorry said Theo. I kicked him in the shin. What is happening I thought first my dumb sister is marrying the love of her life. Gross! I thought then this whole stupid town is freaking out over a dead man that I about to meet. But no problem I'll be making money i'll be rich enough to buy another mickey mouse clock. “You ready” asked theo?? “You bet it just dont touch my hair I hate that””Go you chicken“ said Doug.

He picked it up, it was a picture of his daughter Carlene when she was in the fifth grade. It must have fallen out of his wallet when he bought the coke. Bright blue eyes and long blonde hair. Her smile melted his cold heart and Alfie knew that nothing could destroy the love he had for his daughter. Tears filled his eyes and he fell to the ground sobbing. “I’m so pathetic,” he thought to himself. When he got up from the freezing ground he looked over at the farmhouse. All the lights were on and a dog was sprinting through the snow - filled cornfield. The dog came right to him and sat at his feet panting. Alfie stood there petting the strange dog that reminded him of his own. The farmer came flying across the field on a snowmobile. Once he finally reached him, he thanked Alfie for holding him, and told him that he gets out all the time. “What’s it’s name?” Alfie asked. “His name is Rambo,” the farmer