Creative Writing: My Aunt's Return To America

Imagine this, your dad died not long ago, your uncle is living in America and your mother, your younger brother, and you are living alone in Greece during a economic low point. Now that your dad has passed you mother wants you and your brother to move with her to America to be with your uncle. You know since your 16 and your brother is too young to work you will have to help work the restaurant with your uncle. Well, this is not an imagination for the Mehales family. To start their new year, in January Penelope moved her family here to America. Penelope Mehales, the mother of the family, describes the hard ship of coming to the U.S, "Having a 16 year old and a 3 year old made the trip here very stressful... There was only a meal and a half a day." Mehales also explains that the sleeping areas were dirty and packed with passengers. This family is one of the hundreds, even thousands of families on the same ship coming into America hoping for a "better life".

     There was a rumor rolling from ear to ear that we were soon going to be arriving. How soon? I wasn’t sure, but I decided to tidy the children up and start to repack everything. After waiting for about an hour, I heard a faint ding run down the hall way. The ship was suddenly in celebration for we had finally arrived to the end of our long journey, America! The hallways began to flood with rushing foot steps and people were

We arrived at D.C. The imprisoned citizens cheered to find themselves freed from the grasp of chains. I smiled a little. I got off the horse and so did Jonathan and the little kid. I tried to pet it again. Its head pushed against my chest softly and snorted, “ what should I name you stallion?” I thought for awhile and found a name for the horse, Night’s-Edge, Night for short. I pet Night’s ear and sighed then put her on a stall to wait for my return, “ i’ll be back, Night. I promise” Night snorts then looks away and eats the grass. The little child that was on Night with me and Jonathan tugged at my pants a little to get my attention. I looked at the child and he looks at my eyes with fear, “ what’s the matter?” the child looks down and whimpers

We knew that we were racing against time. My husband turned the key and the motor started to sputter and shake. He flipped some switches and tinkered with the engine, but nothing seemed to be solving the problem. Since he couldn’t figure it out, there was no question about it. We had to hook up the water bike and tow the boat back to shore. It was like a tugboat pulling a battleship. Just as we started our journey, our luck went from bad to worse. The sky that had been picture perfect was quickly changing. The sun was now playing hide and seek in the clouds. The once large white, fluffy, pillow shaped clouds that occasionally blocked out the golden sun turned into dark gray ragged clouds. With that came plump missiles of mass destruction that pelted our tender sunburned skin. It felt like icy needles penetrating throughout our bodies. The gentle winds that once danced with our boat suddenly turned into a fierce hip- hop which sent us into an ocean of mountains of angry waves. The boat tossed and turned in the heavy swells. The waves lifted us up so high and then threw us back down, I thought for sure the boat would break into tiny pieces. With one final tug, we finally made it to the dock. However, the strength of the swell, sent us crashing into another boat. Just as we tied up, I noticed a young lady unconscious on the dock. Her friends were by her side. I shouted out "Did anyone call 911" they said that they did

Long long ago in a house, where rumors were heard of a demon killing innocent souls there lived a man named Matthew. Matthew was a single man but, he had the biggest crush on a girl named Leanna. She never really paid any attention to matthew due to the fact he lived in a dark house up on wurdack hill. It was a creepy castle that was built there long ago. Leanna was a girl who never really was a fan of scary things. Infact every time she would walk past there was a beep in her left ear for some reason. She

Guido couldn’t believe he was home alone after he arrived from middle school. Mom was usually standing in the kitchen, making him a delicious snack consisting of fruits and sandwiches, smiling brightly as she graciously served him, knowing full well that he was tired from a hard day of learning.

Slowly, he walked. Dragging one foot forward, then the other, he trudged on. Where was he headed, one might ask. Alas, even he did not know himself. The answer was deep in the back of his mind, someplace he likely could not reach on his own will. Aside from this answer, was his very destination itself. He hardly knew what it was, and where… Those two questions had yet to be solved, and more arose. Answers were yet to be discovered. Deep inside his heart, the boy felt the knowledge of where walking in his current direction would take him. And he would be there soon, he thought. He focused his vision on the ground as he shuffled ahead. Leaves and pine needles were strewn across the floor below him, covering the tough brown dirt beneath.. There

How would I consider my writing history? When I first wrote an essay it was last semester on English 363. I had an opportunity to write an essay about emigration, and to describe my experience, thoughts, and feelings before and after I immigrated to the United States from Republic of Moldova in 2013. In ESL 363 we were required to write as much possible and to follow the prompt. To illustrate, grammar, vocabulary, transition signals, examples from our own experience, at least five paragraphs and to name a few. When I write an essay I usually make a graphic organizer which helps me to follow the prompt and to memorize the structure of an essay. Sometimes, I use synonyms to prevent repeating the same words all the time. Although, I like to add some quotes on my essay because that gives me an opportunity to explain the quote and to introduce my own point of view about it.

A buzz left the elevator as it traveled up the levels, moving slowly, almost as if it didn't want to enter the floor she was headed towards. Elizabeth stood in the middle of the box, wiping off the deep red color off of her lips, trying to get rid of the bitter and unpleasant taste that lingered from earlier. The small white handkerchief she held was now getting dirty and looked like a small child took a red crayon to it.

As the engine of the dingy began to moan we spotted land ahead. It was Europe. We had made it! On shore there were already people. Hundreds of orange and yellow lifejackets and remains of rubber dinghies littered the beach. People rushed out to help pull the boat in as we drew near. Everyone struggled to get out, impatient to get onto land. Some people kissed the sand and other kissed their family members as they hopped out. This was the beginning of something new. Once I set foot on the sand a mountain of responsibilities would land on me. The realness on it all hit me and a stalled in the boat. I was in charge. I had to not only care for myself but an 11 year old child. I had to take her across Europe. I watched Yara dance on the sand happily and my heart began to quiver with apprehension. How was I meant to get food or shelter for her? I wasn't an adult; I was still practically a child myself. Mama and Papa just threw me into the deep end and expect me to swim. How could they do this to me? We should have stayed together and waited until we could all afford to go. Anger had replace the apprehension until I pictured Mama's heartbroken face again. I thought about Mama and Papa stuck in Turkey dying to leave and I was overwhelmed with guilt. They had given everything for our futures so I had to make sure we did something with them. Silently I looked up to the pale

I got really sick from the cold air. Alisha isn’t here with me anymore. They separated us. Every night they come over to us and take the dead bodies of the people that died of disease and starvation. They throw their dead bodies overboard. Space is very limited. I have splinters and scratches all over my body from when the ship starts. The woman next to me is the nicest person on this ship. Her name is Sylvia. She got separated from her husband and daughter. I saw them take the men away. They packed them in with leg irons.

Elsie was excited to explore the first class part of the ship, even though she was a third class passenger. First class had luxury that she had never seen before. A german U-boat was coming closer and closer to the beautiful ship. “ U-boats were hot, claustrophobic and full of sweat, fumes, and human waste.” The U-boat had to sink at least two ships that day, and the lusitania was one of them. The U-boat created a torpedo that struck the lusitania. The large ship couldn’t take it and sank. Panic rose upon the ship. People fell of the ship and had to swim in Fifty degrees water. Death had taken over. Elsie’s brother, Frank, fell off the ship and no

Everyone here sucks. They all do the wrong choices, the wrong stuff, the wrong everything. I’m Mr. Hoo, and Turtle is the dumbest of all. Who puts all of her money in the stock market. Well thats dumb Turtle. She needs to be smarter times like 1,000,000,000(one billion).

I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great faith and character, she is my grandmother.

Modern technology allowed for students aboard the stricken vessel to send text messages and cell phone calls during their frantic struggles to escape the sinking vessel. These communications offered insight into the confusion and desperation felt by the students. The electrical power had reportedly failed, trapping the students in darkness, as water rushed into the tilted vessel as those trapped inside struggled to find their way out in the narrow, dark passageways. These messages sent as “goodbyes” and “I love you”, tended to plunge the parents and other secondary victims, further into emotional distress. For the parents of children who perished, these heartfelt messages were both treasured, but also extremely traumatic. Among surviving students and families of the deceased children, survivor guilt and passive guilt are to be expected. During the search and recovery process, families suffered a roller-coaster of emotions, hoping that their missing child would be found alive. Rescue divers have also expressed psychologically traumatic impact, becoming themselves tertiary victims of the disaster, because of searching the submerged ship for bodies in near total darkness due to the murky conditions.