Creative Writing: Shell's Cabin

I never knew the Smokies were so close to my grandparent’s retirement village. Every summer all the cousins jammed into Grandpa’s Ford for our jaunt up the mountains. But back then the hills had no name. They were recognized only by the pop of our ears and the pink silk trees bowing down to the highway. Since those days I have grown partial to any patch of grass with “National Park” tacked to its title. Today the mimosas still tossed their petals to traffic, and the truck remembered its ever-present perfume of damp golden retriever. But today we were going to The Great Smoky Mountains National Park. “Cade’s Cove, next left,” the road sign read, and two bikes bumped along on the car hitch.

Walking back to the Lower School playground, I reflect on how much laughter and joy I had out there. A time where after school was spent running around with friends, instead of hours of homework. Everyday, I would run outside to the playground and play games of soccer, football, and everyone's favorite, kickball. Specifically, on my first day of school I remember playing kickball. It was a sunny and crisp fall day. I felt the goosebumps rise on the surface of my arms and legs, but I knew once I started running . The first person I saw was Tim, and he asked if I wanted to play kickball with him and a few others, and I accepted. It was so much fun running around the bases and hearing all the screams of kids. First base was a metal pole, second

Starts In the morning I step out of my car and it is pitch dark and eerie quiet, it's early morning the day after a tragic football game and everyone is tired and anticipating the meet ahead. We all sat mumming with each other and feeling comptable. When I hear the push, hum of the school bus arriving up the drive. Everyone is ready just to get on the bus to sleep. When on the bus I can't get to sleep because I'm sharing my seat with a girl and the bus driver doesn't stop talking. We show up at the meet and i'm waiting for the tent to be put up so I can lay my bag down. My shoulder was aching and the grass was scratching my leg. During the warm up I was thrilled because two male teammates decided to run with us. They both smelt magnificent.

I look up towards the sky and see dark clouds rolling across the sky towards the west where the sounds of gunfire could be heard off in the distance. I look around the cramped bunkhouse and see the other prisoners. The bunkhouse is cold and smells of rotting flesh and human waste. The beds are made of cheap wood and thin cloth with some hay for a mattress. The guards walk in and start telling people to wake up. I slowly get out of my wooden bed out onto the muddy floor. My feet feel cold as they touch onto the earth below. My hands start to hurt from the cuts covering them when I try and get up. I see a man refusing to get out of his bunk near the entrance of the bunkhouse. The guards saw him refusing to follow their orders and dragged

Before you turn the page of this book I want you to know that this book is not pleasant. It is full of bad witches and morphed fairies. Even worse a girl who has to go through it all. Her name is Bell Linmor and she has it rough. But don’t worry it all works out.

“Cas it cost a fortune to get you to go to this camp,” her mom yelled. Cas didn’t want to go because her least favorite person would be there. Cas walk to her closet and grabbed two suitcases full of clothes and a couple pairs of shoes.

I didn’t think much about the white that surrounded me. I didn’t say much when they loaded me into the back of the squad car to drive me to the place. I didn’t flinch when my own father told me I was pathetic. I didn’t shrink away when the guards told me to take all my clothes off and shove them in a tiny plastic bag and to leave it behind because I was now expected to live in my biodegradable scrubs. It wasn’t until I was being escorted into the actual hellhole itself that I started to freak out. There was nothing to ground me, my parents long gone, having left me to my fate as they went back home to cushy luxuries like warm clothes and a television. My hands trembled, dancing their nervous walts at my side, and I felt fear roil in my gut. My stomach felt like it was going to erupt, hot acid like lava in my throat. There was a serene quality to this place, though;

The sound of the wind flowing through the snowy grass excited Michael even more than he already was. He had never been to Alaska, so this was very exciting. He couldn’t wait to get to the cabin.

Wielding his crudely-formed dirk, Alo vaulted over the rotting log at his feet, ran over a stretch of soggy leaves, and ducked behind the colossal tree that towered every other object on the island. At that moment, Alo heard a noise; a rustle; a crunch of a stack of leaves. In the distance, he spotted one of the many intruders out to decimate them, enjoying a meal beside another towering tree. Alo tiptoed towards him, as quiet as a cheetah advancing towards its next meal. As Alo approached the infiltrator, he raised his weapon, ready to neutralize his target. When the man finally realized his situation, he was defenseless; he pushed himself back against the large tree and begged for mercy, cowering in fear, just like an unlucky animal cornered

Duke had had a few women back in the East; a couple of them serious girlfriends, but mostly just flings, or a floozy who could provide him with somewhere to live. The thief was a man who hated commitment, whether it was to a woman, or a lease on his own apartment, and if he could take advantage of someone else's hospitality, he would. It wasn't as if any of the women actually cared much about his infidelities; with the exception of Amy, his second before last, who was still probably hunting for him with a kitchen knife in hand. Cheating and lying was a way of life back home, and the girls were nothing but a little fun who'd used him for his contacts, and took advantage of his generosity, as much as he did they for their bodies and appearance. And that's pretty much all they possessed; good looks. Each had been

It was a stormy night in august on the year 1880. There was lightning shooting across the sky lighting up the night like a flickering light bulb. There was a man walking across the Nevada landscape, in his long black trench coat soaked to the bone with his black cowboy hat covering his face just enough to cover his eyes. His colt 45 revolver glimmering on his hip from the lightning. He was approaching a lone house out in the Distance. It was a small 2 room log cabin with a man, his wife, and their 6 year old son Inside. The cabin was a dark mossy brown wood with a rock chimney and mud packed in the cracks to keep the rain and wind out. It had one window near the door. As the man approached the cabin his pace never faltered he was heading straight

The single drive and one story house was home for a family of 4. Teaching school and driving buses got them the house on a street filled with strangers who would soon become life long friends. Marriage and college took the children dear to their hearts to new streets where life would mature them. Bumpy roads and misfortune would bring this 4 person home back together, but this time adding two more little ones for memories to be had. Years of growing older and moving through grade school would turn a short time visit into a long one. Friends and family coming and going, that door never once came unhinged. A house as busy as that one could never break because of the love shared in it. Home improvements along

I was bouncing up and down on my car seat, I was on my way to Imperial Middle school to play my favorite sport… the only problem was I didn’t know how to play the sport. I asked my mom I didn’t want to go but she forced me. And she had already bought me new soccer cleats.

The rustle of the stale leaves beneath my feet is soothing. They fly up with every shuffle I take. Walking in the woods is pure serenity. The periwinkle blue sky is so clear, I feel like this is all my imagination. When I stop walking the sound ceases and all I can hear is nature. The uncontaminated stream rolls over the rocks, comforting me. On the banks of the stream is the lush vegetation that brushes me with a faint sense of welcome as I walk by. I hear the repetitive drumming of a woodpecker in the trees and the familiar noise of a creature in the bushes. There are not too many bugs this time a year, and for that I am grateful. Right now it is just me under the influence of Mother Nature. There is nothing else to be concerned about, which

Soccer practice was exhausting and quite honestly, completely miserable. I hated the stupid game and never should have signed up, but now I was stuck on the team for the summer practicing. The worst part was the walk home. I didn’t live far but by the time it was over I was tired and sweaty and I just wanted to take a shower, so when one day my brother’s best friend offered me a ride home of course I said yes. I had known Dustin almost my whole life; he had always been nice to me. My brother Landon hung out with him almost every weekend and it helped that Dustin lived just down the street from us. Even though I lived less than five minutes away, I closed my eyes once I was in the car.  I instantly fell into a deep sleep, and I probably