Creative Writing: The Worst Kind Of Torture

“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

The officer sitting said.“I’m gonna find that body one day, and when I do you’ll be hanged for your crime,” in a confident voice.

“Yes I am dad.” Kevin screaming at the top of his lungs,” Mr.Cromwell needs to go!” While Howie and Kevin argued ,Cromwell was over there eating Kevin’s breakfast, waffles. It was too late, Howie and Kevin turned around ,the waffles were gone.Kevin and Howie went straight over to doggy daycare. Cromwell had stayed 1 hour knowing he wanted to leave.

Do it, Emma. Get rid of the pain. I bit my lip, trying to resist the urge, but give in. I pick the sharp blade and place it above my left wrist. C'mon, don't you want to feel better? Tears stream down my face. I want to make things better, but will this actually help.. I exhaled and grazed the blade against my skin. Good. More. I give in again and cut deeper than before. The blood oozes out as little beads and falls onto white tiled floor, coating the floor with blood. I lower my gaze to the floor, taking in the numbness I feel. I take a deep breath, knowing that the adrenaline is kicking in. The feeling is a sort of high I'm addicted to, allowing me to forget everything at the moment. The pains spreads throughout my body to my fingertips to

Then some of people noticed a new guest, dress as a clothes of the Red Death. Everyone was freaking out because of him. When Prince Prospero saw this guy, he became angry and asked courtiers to seize him and unmask him. But no one have the courage to do it, including Prospero himself. The Red Death walked through the rooms, heading toward the black room. Prospero chased him with taking his dagger. Prospero reached the edge of the dark room, the Red Death suddenly turned to face him, and Prospero fell on the ground and dead. "Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revelers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony

I can't move, every ounce of breath is crucial. I feel it trying to trap me in a wooden coffin-like box. I scream "Mom!" as loud as I can, nothing. Not a yell or a screech, just one single whisper.

“Mrs. Mitchell is in critical condition.” Lydia’s face crumpled and she was about to give up hope when the doctor spoke again. “Her legs are both broken and, due to the lengthy time spent without access to blood, almost completely dead. She has two broken ribs, a broken arm, and a minor concussion. Luckily, there was no damage to the brain. I know this must be so hard for you both, but chin up! Although she will never walk again, we are almost positive that we will be able to heal her broken bones and her other minor injuries.” At Lydia’s concerned look, he clarified. “By minor injuries, I simply mean cuts, gashes, bruises and the like. In conclusion, we will be able to help Mrs. Mitchell, but she will have to stay overnight, perhaps for a week or two. Do the two of you need a place to stay?” After the pair mutely shook their heads, Mr. Hal walked up to the front desk, paid the bill, and drove Lydia to his house in silence. “You can stay here until we get your house fixed up,” he told her as they hopped out of the wagon

it's been probably a few hours now and nothing has happened i start thinking about my family, friends, and even Mrs.Berntson. That's when i think about the book she read in class and how spelling out meanwhile moves me to a different place. So i try to spell out meanwhile hoping that i will go to another place but it doesn't seem to be working. I keep thinking about the book and remember that at the end the kid yells the end and is instantly brought back to where he started. As loud as i can i scream, “The

The first time I saw her she was perched on my chair at New Westview High in the English 11 classroom and was twirling a luxurious pair of earbuds around her elegant and slender fingers wrapping them around like whips. Lethal. Pestilent. Yet still there was something about her that was bewitching. She screamed anguished closures and shredded promises. Back then I just had a feeling. One of those nauseating, petrifying feelings but almost addictive when I went near her. She had these black and red beats that were colossal compared to her meagre face but she didn't seem to mind. They kept slipping off her sleek, smooth hair. Why would she have earbuds and headphones? Like what an idiot. Her fingers and feet tapped out the rhythm on the floor.

It’s just another normal day in Mrs. Larson’s class. I sit in the very front of the class, so that means hearing her loud, annoying, squeaky voice. and getting smacked in the face with her spit every time she talks. I’m also surrounded by the worst people in class. To my left is Fredrick Nelson, whose things always have a slimy layer covering them, and is always picking his nose. And to my right is Tiffany Jones. The most popular girl in the seventh grade. You're probably wondering why I think that’s a bad thing, right? Well, Tiffany and I were the bestest friends, until she accused me of stealing one of her most prized possessions, her pink and silver hello kitty pencil. Since then, we have been enemies. She tries to get me in trouble in

“It most certainly is not,” retorted Phillie. “Freddie is that terrible man from those awful movies made years ago. The man who would attack children in their sleep.”

The bar had an upbeat vibe to it. It wasn’t the high end bar where you could pay to get your ass kissed and your feet rubbed, but at least you didn’t have to worry about walking outside and getting robbed or stabbed on your way home. It was a fairly unremarkable place, a plain black building, a neon sign outside the only hint to the place being able to serve alcohol. Most meandered around, drinking and talking, with the occasional dance when a rather catchy song found it’s way onto the less than stellar sound system.

I hunkered down behind the massive boulder and managed to wedge myself between it and another stone and I kicked out. It didn’t budge. I shoved again, harder, but it wouldn’t give an inch. My only option was to use

She is facing the worst kind of anticipation. Hoping to never hear the police sirens resonate within her ears. Desperately attempting to shake the images of too much blood on the roof. The smell of metal is so strong that it still haunts her, making her dry heave at the worst moments. She lives her life sitting next to a murderer, and waiting as time slowly passes by them, as they wait for their inevitable end.

Chunks of bone and muck hit her in the face and caused Allison to flinch, spit, and sputter. The shriek that sounded like a sharp metal blade shredding thinner metal caused her to shudder.