Creative Writing: Strangers In The Dumpster

“…dragged from the house on his knees. His face was bloody and when he tried to speak he cried with pain.”

One day, cutting through the swamp, David comes across the remains of old Indian souls and discovers a skull with jewelry still buried on the bodies. As David kicks at the skull, he hears a voice and looks up to see a black man seated on a stump just looking. The man, wearing a black sash around his body, has a soot-stained face, which makes it appear as if he works in some fiery place. David soon recognizes the stranger as the devil, the black man. Twenty years later we had a family reunion with all my relatives and they started talking about the fire.

“Some people say I was lucky to survive, other will say I deserved it for the choice I made. I’m here to say I was lucky, it’s never ok to say your life isn’t worth living even at your worst you can always look forward tomorrow will come and if you put your mind to it you’ll see that anything is possible.” – Stephen McGregor Professional Paralympian

“They knew very well why he hadn’t; because of the enormity of the knife descending and cutting into living flesh; because of the unbearable blood. (pg 31)

They [the mob] advanced to the points of the bayonets, struck some of them and even the

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

I comfortably drive my car into the desolate street, Perusing the deserted buildings, Smashes windows and rusted For Sale signs. The car locked up like Fort Knox. I observe the street for trouble. Two young boys look at me from afar as if I'm an alien. Do I stand out that much same greasy hair, expensive clothes, a smart car I suppose I am out of my comfort zone? “Mister, you don’t belong here” his hand gripped his switch. “Pony.... Ponyboy Curtis” I stammer “I live here or at least I did, I'm here to see two-bit’ The Boys turn around “geez his old now” the boy's chirp. The boys stroll away in awe that they saw the great Ponyboy.

“With the knife I had, I opened his chest to that place…. I inserted the knife point, and with great difficulty, at last i pulled it out”

“The men we sent to aid you said when they got there; the entire village was destroyed, still burning in a white fire. When they found you, you are standing over his body, your blade glowing a brilliant radiance while it was still plunged into that creature, and you unconscious still gripping the blade as if you’d die if you let go it,” explained High Marshal Macharius, as he strode from his sentinel position to the edge of Agernath’s bed.

The approach of the crown fire made them retreat farther up the slope were the five deployed their shelters next to the squad boss that was

After he the lost the tug of war, Prince Cyrillus chuckled, gestured at the weapon rack with his sword and said, "I did hear that you took out a dozen men while chained. Think you can beat me on the vases?"

From the quick glances William had taken, he could safely say that he believed the captain was a joke. Always smiling like a layman or bemoaning his wretched love life. But as he gazed upon his captain now, William could only see a calculated glare. Cold, hard, a glimpse of the raging fire that burned underneath that scowling face. William watched as the captain dodged his opponent’s strikes, coat whirling about wildly. His opponent turned and again charged towards the captain, who dodged with such grace that William could safely say it was almost like dancing. They continued their waltz until the captain was behind the other, and he fired his pistol, hitting the back of the other man’s head at point blank range. Only then did the captain’s expression differ, turning into a self-satisfied smirk as he kicked the body off of his perch as William watched, entranced. As if sensing Will’s gaze, he looked up through the chaos and caught his eyes. The captain began to smile, and raised his hand as if to wave, but then a look of alarm came over his

them to escape. This portrays his cunning bravery which saves most of his men and himself.

As stated in the book, “All the time [his wounds] were to go on bleeding,

“But a Samaritan traveler who came upon him was moved with compassion at the sight. He approached the victim, poured oil and wine over his wounds