Creative Writing: Uncle Tom's Cabin

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.

"Wake up, partners," the trail boss, James called. I sleepily looked up , shivered, and saw I was the only one not up. "Here," James said, giving me the horses' bridles and saddles. "Take these and get the horses ready. We have a long day today." I groaned in reply and set up the horses for the day's long drag. I was the horse wrangler and this was my everyday job but I still couldn't get use to the idea of waking up before the sun and working. We drove the cattle into open plains against the winter's cold wrath.

Smith waiting frantically, “Gosh Isiah you scared me, you’re lucky I covered for you guys”

The driver, Cecilia Blair, of vehicle 1 was traveling north through the intersection of N. State St. and Flint St. when she had a collision with vehicle 2. The driver, Jacqueline Muir, of vehicle 2 was heading west on Flint St. when she was struck by vehicle 1.

The large cut on the right side of my forehead had begun to bleed again; my own blood threatening to choke me. “Calm down its ok. You're going through a rough phase that's all. Try to get some rest,” was all the comfort dad could manage before choking up into tears. He turned away as streaks of auburn curls lightly brushed against me, the owner tending to my wound. Rest, he says; not so easy when every time your eyes droop, the dreams begin. They have been getting worse, the closer I become in finding a way to bring her

At some point, their ears had finally given in to the echoing shots and yells and had dulled to the point where they could barely hear anything at all. The students - cut, bruised and bloodied - lay upon the ground. Dead or hiding. Hoping for mercy, for that’s all they had left to hope for.

It was August of 1829 in Mississippi. Men were harvesting corn and beans. The smell of the Choctaw own acorn bread filled the air. All the children were prancing about, playing with friends, shooting squirrels with their little toy bows, and wrestling for the last bite of jerky. All but one child. That lonely little boy’s name was Koi. Koi never got to play with the other Choctaw boys, as he had to prepare to become chief.

Jimin wakes up to the sound of explosions and fire. A thousand and some men meet their demise each day, and Jimin prays at night he’s not one of them. The war rages around him, and he gets off the make-shift bed to get changed into his gear to help out. He caps the patterned helmet and looks at himself in the mirror. His reflection stares back, sad and weary, a youth gone wrong. He smears camouflage onto his face, high on his cheekbones until there is nothing left of him but an empty vessel of war.

The novel Uncle Tom's Cabin was written by Harriet Beecher Stowe and published in the United States in 1852. The novel depicted slavery as a moral evil and was the cause of much controversy at the time and long after. Uncle Tom's Cabin outraged the South and received praise in the North. The publication of Uncle Tom's Cabin was a major turning point for the United States which helped bring about the Civil War.

“Hey, I’m home,” came a voice from the hall. A few seconds later, Mr. Shaw darted into the kitchen. His suit was wrinkled, his skin sallow, his eyes puffy and red like he hadn’t slept. “I was worried about you. Chance, are you okay?”

“Uncle Tom’s Cabin” is a classic book about slavery. Set in Kentucky, middle 1800’s, it gives readers a glimpse of what life would be like as a slave. Owned by a kind slave owner, Mr. Shelby, Tom is the ideal slave, loyal, trustworthy and kind, but when his master goes into debt, he is sold to a mean man that treats him cruelly. Along with Tom, Harry, a young child, is to be sold, but when his mother, Eliza Harris, finds out her child is going to be taken from her, she flees on a journey to freedom in Canada. In “Uncle Tom’s Cabin,” the author, Harriet Beecher Stowe, uses character types from older, traditional texts to make them seem new.

A blue house, red shutters, and a white picket fence with a border collie. Three kids are running around in the front lawn up on a hilltop. That is what the American dream is right? The American dream is truly in the eye of the beholder. One might think that the American dream is an apartment in downtown Los Angeles, but others might want the smell of fresh cut grass in a small suburb. It’s whatever the person who is working for it wants it to be. As we can see in the play, all of the main characters might be striving for an American dream, but none of them are striving for their same American dream.

Uncle Tom's Cabin is an anti-slavery best-seller novel by American author Harriet Beecher Stowe, which is published in 1852 during the antebellum press era. Uncle Tom's cabin is considered the most powerful novel that shaped public opinion and is associated in most people's minds with the Civil War. The most famous statement made about this novel is when Stowe met Lincoln in the White House to urge him to sign the Proclamation a month before the Boston event. His greeting of her "Is this the little woman who made this Great War?" Although this quote is apocryphal, we can see the novel's place in history and influence on the war. According to Reynolds’s

I stood up and looked around. No one noticed me. No one saw me get hit, not even the boy who threw the swing. I started toward Christine, feeling groggier with each step. When she finally looked over my way, Christine looked at me like I had grown another head. “What?” I asked. I was becoming aware of a warm trickle of liquid slipping down my face when I finally understood. I brought my finger up to my eye and flinched as the pain struck me, the numbness finally wearing off. A teacher spotted me and ran over to me, asking what happened. I was swept off to the nurse’s office where I was laid down and taken care of. The nurse told me that I had a gash above my right eye. She stated that it wasn’t all that bad, but she wanted to call my parents just in case. I rested on the bed as the nurse talked to my parents. Does this happen a lot? Am I going to be okay? Will my parents be mad? These were the thoughts that were racing through my