Creative Writing: Rick Riordan

I was here I was walking threw the amazing wooden doors into the most fantastic park. I was standing on the floors of the GREAT WOLF LODGE. I was there with Amanda, Lyla, Calista, and Kira. We all quickly walked over to the check in desk so that we could get our wristbands and bust over to the water park. There were about one, two, three, four five people standing in front of us. While we were standing in line there was an amazing window that was huge and we could see every person and every ride in the park. We saw one of the biggest slides there we say the most crazy slide it was called HOWLIN TORNADO. We finally got to the front of the line and we were ready to get our wristbands on. The manager slipped on a teal waterproof wristband the said “GREAT WOLF LODGE”

Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.

“Creative Writing” by Etgar Keret, shows the struggles of the couple grieving a miscarriage, though their stories that they wrote in creative writing class. Maya the wife write three different stories, the first one showing how a loss of an unborn child can make someone feel like they have died, or lost a part of themselves. The second is about how a women a may go through a period where she feels detached from her husband. The third is about the journey of accepting a miscarriage and ready try again. Aviad’s story is about continuously adapting to change and always remembering where you came from.

I hobble up to my husband’s grave, last time I was here, I could barely see the headstone through the crowd of people I didn’t know. I left the funeral early, it was too much for me to handle. The cold air nipped at my boney hands, and the tip of my nose. I can barely make it through the snow without tripping. It is worth it just to talk to him. The smell of death reaches my nose before I make it over the tiny hill, his grave is just at the top. I stumble over a tree root covered by snow, and I catch myself just in time with my nobby wooden cane.

As we walk out of the catacombs the fresh air fills my lungs and I thank God that we made it out of there alive. I wish Pastor Ron could be here with us right now. He didn’t deserve to be killed. If anyone I did. Sure I wanted to come here to build a wall to help the school kids, but I honestly only did that for the service hours I needed to graduate. He had volunteered to come down and make sure we stayed and safe and to work on the wall. He didn’t have to. Now he is dead. I wish I could take his place and him be here right now, where I am standing. Just then I hear a burst of gun fire in the distance. Immediately I turn to it. I see two rebels fire and a bunch of bottles and they laugh and continue to jug their beers. Palmer grabs my arm and pulls me to the ground. He then points to the

You could feel the riot before you could see it. There was something else in the crisp early morning New York air, a certain electricity. A certain static that could only have been brought about by the winds of change. Even at three am the city is usually alive, but in these early Saturday morning hours Christopher Street was more alive than usual. However, it wasn't the normal flamboyant energy it had come to been known for. It was an angry energy, one that's only capable of being created by an oppressed group fed up with the constant mistreatment they've too long endured.

MDA2200 Documentary Film Treatment Title Homeless, not Hopeless Log-line Melvina moved to London to pursue her career as psychologist. During her stay she fell put with her aunt Janet and became homeless. This documentary talks about how being homeless has changed her life.

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

The party just had to be as grand as possible. How could it not be? The quarter was practically bursting with business, and the family couldn’t be more content. Who wouldn’t love living in the 1920’s New orleans during the time of flapper girls, brothels, jazz clubs and bars. The people who run it love it, but the people who let’s say owe them don’t. However, like any family, there’s always a fight or some type of rift to seperate loyalties and cause drama. Unfortunately, in this family, drama can only lead to death.

I Kaylin Otis, made it through the winter at valley forge. It was a harsh winter, most of us had a feeling we weren’t going to survive. A lot of our men have passed away because it was a little ice age. We didn’t have many supplies to support all of us. George washington our general tried and tried to distract us from the misery, but nothing really seemed to work. I tried writing back to my family, but my hands were purple and hard to move. Constantly shivering. I have never been so cold in my entire life. I remember praying several times a day, hoping i would get through this, and i will make it home to my family safely. I was so sad at a time like this, but Marquis De Lafayette keeping everyone’s spirits high. He was one of the richest

“We’re going home!” Laina exclaimed, holding up the wads of cash they had earned. “Quick, let’s get to the ferry before it closes.”

That look. All I can think of is that look in Johnny’s eyes. He wasn't suppose to die, the rest of the gang could die at the same time but Johnny just can’t die. He was supposed to stay out of trouble, get away from his godforsaken parents, leave this place. He was supposed to be better than all of us.

decided to make a new library becuse the old one was too old. There was a contest

Power stood on this land as she stood upon thigh land. Her power, through was not for the use of good. She brought evil wherever she goes. Leaving a nasty trail of destruction and pain in her pathes. She is a dark women, completely dressed in black and ice cold thru and thru. Some would call her dark one, because no one dared to speak her name. Her hair was as dark as her sole, her skin pale as those she had infested with her destruction. Her evil brought much torture and sorrow for what seems forever to this land. She is one of two immortal beings that live among the land of Murdock.

Crone gazed through heavy lidded eyes at his master as he sucked the meat off a chicken carcass, as if it were his last meal. From time to time, he’d toss a scrap at his beloved Irish setter and laugh while looking at Crone, who was forced to sit at the old warlock’s feet. Crone vowed from the first day of his servitude, he would kill the bastard. Yes, Morden was old, and he was powerful, but Crone was confident he would one day succeed.