Creative Writing: Waking Up In High School

Jake: So anyway things besides all this John stuff are going pretty awesome…and we usually hang out together every Friday night when I get out of work…So this past Friday I got out of work early and figured we’d spend the rest of the night together…. Maybe grab a bite to eat or catch a movie…So I called her at 5 o’clock—no Caroline. 6, 7, 8—still no Caroline. 9, 10—10 freakin’ thirty roles around and I’m like “Caroline where the hell have you been?!”.

I thought he’d returned and taken care of this.” “When did he leave?” Coates asked. “It was Saturday. I remember the day because I talked to him that day.

I waiting for some sort of reaction, and it came by him scooting a body space or two away from me. I had sat too close to him, and he didn’t like that. I couldn’t believe it. It seemed like everything I could do wrong I did. After fidgeting around with the dust and dirt laying around us, I almost couldn’t stand it anymore. I wanted to run off, and I almost did but then he spoke. D’Angelo didn’t say just one thing, but two, then three, and just kept talking. It made me so confused. At first I was confused that he didn’t think I was so “uncool” after throwing bark in his eyes and sitting too close next to him, but that quickly turned into confusion about what he was talking about. It sounded like he was quoting pages out some boring “adult”

This time the store owner had called the police. Roxy had shoplifted from his establishment before but I had always been able to fix it; most times by paying double the price. Peering through the faceted glass of my front door, I could see Mr. Pachenko pacing the brick-edged sidewalk, his face pale with anger. With his blood pressure, the bright red spots on his cheeks would be with him for the rest of the night.

It is three years into the war, WWII, and Oscar is turning seven tomorrow. Although the sun is creeping under the horizon, Oscar is still as energetic as a rabbit!Because his parents were getting rations along with Oscars sister Elle, Oscar is staying home alone.

“Chloe move it, you take up the space for both of our lockers.” Annie said pushing Chloe out of the way.

“Cole… just call her. I’ll text you the number.” With that his sister said goodnight and hung up. As promised, he received the text a minute later.

Hansly soon followed her, but before he did he stare at Joshua with extreme disappointment. His dark brown eyes left Joshua stunned, as he never seen him so upset about anything. Joshua turned his face toward the window and starred at the atmosphere where he saw a gray clouds shrouding the blue and sunlit sky with a frigid air. As the bus stopped at Detroit Cristo Rey High School, Joshua then proceeded to go to his homeroom class where he would find his friends and try to apologize to them for his actions. As he enters the classroom he only found Rose, his father, and his teacher, Mr. Peter, conversing to each other.

Upper school English teacher Ms. L.C. says her favorite smell is that of a melting popsicle in the summer. “I love the sweet fructose of the popsicle juice,” said L.C. “Especially the way it combines with the smell of the wooden stick.”

The light grey, concrete building rose from the ground, looking like something out of a dystopian novel. I was rapidly approaching Herter Hall, where my dreaded College Writing class would take place, with an overwhelming urge to turn around. I was so anxious because up until my first semester at college, writing had been synonymous with pure stress. In all of my previous writing classes, I was either assigned literary analysis papers, or papers on the same controversial issues (gun control or the death penalty). Furthermore, I was always instructed to follow a very specific format, which made my essays very repetitive. After four years of writing nearly the same essay, I had become very frustrated because my creativity and perspective was being confined. Despite my hatred for the class, I considered myself to be a decent writer. Seldom did I get lower than an A on an essay in high school, and most teachers gave me praise for my insightful analysis. That being said, I knew college writing would be more difficult than high school, and I was nervous because I severely lacked revision skills. In the past, I would become very partial to my writing and turned a blind eye to poor sentence structure, organization, or style choices. As a result, my essays were generally only looked over for grammatical errors.

I hate school, I mean everything is going wrong. Robbin has now got a boyfriend, his name is Jack and I personally think he is a jerk. He is one of those guys at high school that you would find surrounded by cheerleaders. Oh did I mention, he is the captain of the football team? what a jerk. Okay actually, Jack is a really nice guy, very popular as he is the captain of the football team, no wonder Robbin likes him. I mean look at me, I am the kid you would find in high school, oh wait I am the kid in highschool who you won't even notice. Right now as I am writing I can feel my veins popping out as my blood rushes through my face. Could this day get any worse?. Oh did I mention, Robbin is my best friend?. We have been best friends for a very

"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.

“I don't know. I saw her last night. She hardly spoke a word. I didn't see her this morning though,” said Griffin, Gigi’s brother.

“Hold on a moment Lenora, someone is looking to rip the phone out of my hand.”

Think about your experiences of writing at college. Which types of assignments have you found helpful in strengthening your writing skills? Where do you want to improve your writing? What’s the most useful advice you’re received that’s helped you improve your writing. Be as specific as possible.