Creative Writing : Personal Narrative

a time… “Too generic,” I thought, erasing it bitterly. I wrote again: She shivered bitterly in the cold, turning back once more to the house behind her. There he stood, leaning in the doorway with a gun in his hand. Her heart stopped. I stopped writing. “I can't write about something like this!” I thought. “The teacher might think this, or something like it, happened to me before.” I brushed this irrational thought away, but erased it anyway. Bitterly. The doorbell rang again. “Mooommm! Doooor

By (), 7th Grade. Category: Creative Writing. Looping I jerked up from my bed to a sound I couldn’t quite remember; confused, I glanced to the right side of my bed, looking past the countless paintings on the wall such as The Starry Night and the Mona Lisa. These weren’t the real things, obviously, as both these paintings were located in museums such as the Museum of Modern Art and The Louvre. However, I happened to be a fan of art and had bought replicas of the paintings with my own pocket money;

I lowered my head in shame. I knew there was something I could've done but, I was used. She was right. I'm nothing but a coward. "Are you serious?" a voice boomed from behind us "Your calling him a coward?" Celestail stomped her way infront of Mother's chair and looked her right in the eyes. "Peasent...! How dare you-" "How dare I what? Stand up for your child when you should be the one comforting him? Don't give me that shit, lady. You know damn well as much as I do, that there

The Drive-In Pulling into the drive-in of Sonic, the vibrant colors of the screen light up the black interior of my red Avenger. I ask my friend what she would like to eat, as her long painted finger nails nick the coins she is counting out trying to decide what she had enough money for. Although the lights in my car are not on, the moon and neon lights beaming from sonic provides enough light for her to count. The food on the screen, and the warm, fruity, aroma of the fried food and slushes coming

would think it was just the fire, but I knew better as the dark figure solidified and rose off the ground, turning into a boy who looked about 3 years older than me. He had black hair that covered one red eye and always moved as if he had his own personal wind surrounding him. He wore shadowy jeans, shirts and hoodies. “Blake,” I greeted him. “Hello Kai,” he replied with a smirk. He scanned the area, a hand on his hip, before making the already small distance between us smaller. He cupped my face

I got on the train and looked for a seat. Unfortunately, all of them were taken. I looked for someone to sit with and saw a very tall almost bald guy, and a short blonde boy. "Can I sit with you two?" The boy looked at me. "Yeah sure." He said before quickly turning away. I think he was blushing. I sat down across from them. "What's your names?" "I'm Edward Elric the Fullmetal Alchemist. " he said with a grin. "And I'm Alex Louis Armstrong the Armstrong Alchemist." "Oh so you're both State Alchemist

Sitting in the blind looking out over the water Renee and I patiently await the arrival of shoot time. Looking out at the sky with its thin blue line of light on the horizon as the sun begins to rise into the dark sky still above us. Quiet with anticipation and excitement, we start to hear the sounds of nature waking up all around us. We ready ourselves and load our guns as we hear the distant sounds of the first of many groups of ducks and geese that we hope to see this morning. I look down at my

After a few more tears from Cynthia, they were finally on their way. “Where’s the rest of your gear?” Remi asked as she made herself comfortable in the backseat. “It’s with Nate and Lyle, they drove ahead in the van to get situated.” “Cool.” Leaning back, Remi pulled out her journal and tried to map out her route. The festival started on Friday and lasted through Sunday. Today was Monday, and Remi had spent most of Sunday tracing her routes. Tomorrow she had an appointment to meet with Evie Crofton

I keep having this dream, voices echoing a phrase, “what will be will be”. Step by step, I stride down the hallway leading from my bedroom towards the front door. The lights lining the hallway are burning, but reserved in their efforts, and I move more off instinct than clarity of vision. Down the stairs and into the foyer, a glow leaks out from the kitchen around the white-bricked corner; I can feel a force wrapping its arms around me, reeling me in like a big fish. The energy brings me inside,

Karl knew as long as he kept Lexi's phone in his pocket, he'd be able to control the situation with her lover. The Security Chief believed Treloar to be pussy-whipped by Alexandra Huntington - why else would he have attempted to reignite their relationship after all these years -, and all it would take was one text pleading for help, or to say that she was in serious danger, and Karl was certain he'd come charging in to save her with no thought of precautions, or ensuring his own safety. Karl was