Creative Writing: The Secret Service

There have been four presidential assassinations dating all the way back to April 15, 1865. William McKinley took office on March 4, 1897. McKinley was shot twice at point-blank range. He died eight days later. This event changed the secret service and how they work forever. Ever since President McKinley was shot the presidential security became more intense and cautious. The secret service are always watching out for potential threats.

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.

They each wore many layers of tattered clothing and looked like northern outdoorsmen who had been living on their own for far too long. They sat at the table with two small and burn scarred coffee mugs filled with hot water. Along with an incomplete deck of cards scattered across the table resembling some sort of poker game. On days when they did not need to scavenge and it was clear enough to see through the ash and cloud covered skies, they sat at the table and looked out over the capital. Hundreds of years ago this would have been a beautiful view of the gorgeous White House and it’s landscape. There would have been colorful displays of lush green grass and trees, with the iconic white pillars of the White House towering in the back ground. Today the pillars are still there except for one in the middle which had crumbled at its top but the bottom still stood, rising half way up in the air. Its beautiful yard was now black and ash covered and any trees had long since rotted away. The building itself was still incredibly well put together compared to it’s peers. It stood as a glimpse of what was once possible of human kind, only to be snatched away by the sudden

On May 23, 2005, shortly after leaving his job at the Nation, a nightclub located in downtown Baltimore, on May 23, 2005, Jason became cursed. At three a.m., the twenty-three-year-old manager locked the main doors of the establishment and walked toward his red Cobra Mustang parked at the far end of the lot.

there was once a man named trump who wanted to give Hillary a thump when he tried she stepped aside and gave him a bump in the rump his skin a orange as the California sun a smile that made children want to run such a man whom all loved to hate with a belly that made you wonder what he ate he wished to "make america great again" He disrespects women and only likes mie he was a violent soul to manys' dislike with a voice that sounded like a motorbike however he would still bellow of how he was just a common fellow With a loan of a million dollars from his father To start his business, though no one would bother Failure after failure with no success He now tries to add a nation to his mess Is this this the best that we could possibly suggest.

I stare at the bag sitting in the locker, wondering what is buzzing around in Christian’s head. “Wow. That was… sad,” I say laughing. Christian blushes a light pink and rolls his eyes.

They call me a shadow an evil spirit of the dark and the one with no face just because no one ever seen my face trust me my not a bad person my just trying to make my cut in life see I wasn't always this bad I just didn't grow up killing for cash I was trained by the world's most feared assinas they showed me how the shadows we're you friends and how to yours them as cover see my different from every other's assienas I was born with a gift that let me move so fast it look like i vanished and I could feel sound waves which help when my target was behind an object and it could make me feel like time slowed down with this ability I could shoot a sniper and never miss my target at age of eleven I was in the field racking up kills

As his head was against the western sky, he closed his eyes and prayed that he would live to see another day . When he opens his eyes he noticed that his surroundings were still there was no movement what so ever. He unwrapped his arm to get the bullet out his forearm he is forced to suck the bullet out, the Republican sniper had to endure excruciating pain to get the bullet out. He spits out a mouthful of blood and the bullet that fractured his arm, then he wrapped it back up tying it back together with his teeth. He lifted himself out of the rubble and off the ground to look for his enemy but there was no one in sight.

"They're powerful people with lots of connections so there's no way we're going to stop them."

Winston opened his eyes confused by his surroundings, he began to look left and right trying to figure out where exactly he was. “Hello,” said a strange voice and when he locked onto what exactly was talking he was startled. “I am Aslan, the creator and the one true king of the world of Narnia, and generally a figure of all that is good,” the giant lion began to say, “you have been brought to our camp and saved from the evil party of Big Brother.” Winston did not know of this place called Narnia, but the more the great lion talked the more safe and secure he felt, so he figured it must not be such a bad place. “Why did you save me?” Winston said almost in a shaky voice. “You are the key to the downfall of Big Brother and the inner party.” Aslan replied.

I awoke to my pounding head and had to force myself to stay still. Slowly I was able to think and remember what had happened. I was lying down on the ground, I could feel the scratchy grass beneath me as well as a sharp pebble digging into my back. But I wasn't, I noted, tied up. I could hear horses snorting and grazing near me, and men talking, too quietly to make out exactly what was said.

Callahan and I have been in jail for 17 years and never got out. We been hanging out together and trying to escape prison for years now, but mostly the officer bring me to put the dead prisoner to the chapel to bury the prisoner. Callahan been here for a while now that I know every weakness of this prison, so we can use his information to escape. I try to blend in, so always go with the officer or the warden to bring the chapel where the prisoner is, far away from prison to decreased the prisoner. After that, when I'm done with that Callahan and I will always escape until we are free. We will never give up until we’re free. The next day, we went near the pacific ocean to talk about our next escape where they're shredded fingernails when the serial killer.

“Would you like a tour of your home for the next two months?” She asked nicely.

"Oh wow, this place reminds me so much of home. It 's all so beautiful" Aria said as she ran into the castle.

“No, I think you should go. After I saw what happened with Perceval collapsing and all…” She walked up to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll be fine. The ladies are here for me.”