West Carmichael is not my real name.
It is the name I pulled from thin air over five hundred years ago. I don’t come from royalty—I come from the dregs of the ethereal. As the King’s assassin, I have more blood on my hands than most. I don’t deserve her. I don’t deserve anyone.
But I will keep her safe. Even if I die trying.
Evangeline Black.
My name sounds like the heroine of a historical romance novel – not that I read those or anything. My life so far: Dead parents? Check. Broken heart? Check. Evil mistress of darkness, hell-bent on power and thirsty for my death? Big. Honking. Check. But this mess won’t get cleaned up by itself. I’ve got a job to do.
As these two reluctant hearts fight their pull, they must decide if they want
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.
From when I was two years old until I was ten, my parents routinely shuttled my brother and I to the local Sears store every few months to get our pictures taken. My brother and I would sit patiently, smiling, in front of the background my parents chose while the photographer snapped away. After, all the pictures would be analyzed, the best ones selected and picture sizes determined. About an hour after arriving in the mall, my family and I would leave with multiple printed pictures in hand, ready for distribution to relatives or a photo album. Yet, after I turned ten, my mother increasingly opted to take pictures of my brother in I at home with her own camera and printer. This shift from going to Sears to get
A week later, Donald Gennaro found himself on a raft being pulled to shore in the jungles of the Dominican Republic. Gennaro was a lawyer, and he was most definitely out of place. His grey suit was beginning to stain with sweat. Gennaro wiped his balding head with a handkerchief.
After moving to a coastal area upon discovering his interest in marine life and coastal architecture, NAME found a significant love for learning about coastal communities and the ocean itself, leading him to visit the local beaches frequently upon his initial arrival.
Later that day Kevin decided to go down to the beach to watch the sun fall down the equator with Cornwall. Kevin Thought to himself how he was going to convince Howie to let him go to dog training. Maybe if I show him how great of a dog Cornwall is then
Wally West walked sluggishly through the downpour that currently plagued Star City. His arms were crossed over his chest as he tried to retain some form of the warmth that had left his trembling body a long time ago. He was staring down at the sidewalk and not watching what was ahead of him, which had caused the young red head to crash into a few people from time to time but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had too much on his mind to care at the moment and he was more focused on reaching his destination. The fifteen year old rubbed at his eyes as he felt the familiar sting of tears begin to return for what felt like the tenth time that day.
I never knew the Smokies were so close to my grandparent’s retirement village. Every summer all the cousins jammed into Grandpa’s Ford for our jaunt up the mountains. But back then the hills had no name. They were recognized only by the pop of our ears and the pink silk trees bowing down to the highway. Since those days I have grown partial to any patch of grass with “National Park” tacked to its title. Today the mimosas still tossed their petals to traffic, and the truck remembered its ever-present perfume of damp golden retriever. But today we were going to The Great Smoky Mountains National Park. “Cade’s Cove, next left,” the road sign read, and two bikes bumped along on the car hitch.
"Hello, Phil Morter! I am writing to you because at last remembered everything so wanted to forget my mind. That I killed Jill and the unknown man, whose name was not able to remember. I can not understand why I did it, but I know that to live with this further simply can not. After your visit, everything changed. Me began to torment the nightmares in which I have seen, as I stabbed a man to dwell on the ill-fated road, as himself shut in the car, as kill the girl, whom I loved more than life
The weather was pleasant, with cloudless blue skies and the air heavy with birdsong along their route. Accompanying those who were being sent to assess the damage at the Salsolan Outpost had been a choice — the same way drinking when thirsty was a choice — and bringing her slave had been just another facet.
In the year 2002 Kanye Omari West, previously known for his contributions to the hip hop genre as a producer, creating instrumentals for such acts as JayZ, Mos Def, Talib Kweli and more, released his first studio single just a few weeks after a nearly fatal car crash. His jaw had to be wired shut for that period of time and despite that Kanye still recorded the whole track with a fractured jaw. I think this incident gives us an insight into what and of an artist Mr West truly is. One that is passionate about his craft, one that is not afraid to push creative boundaries, and it shows throughout all his projects. When it comes to cover art, themes, production and lyrics on his albums Kanye gave his audience and critics the best piece that he could make. So in this essay i would like to deconstruct Kanye West's work and discuss the innovations that he's brought to the rap genre throughout his career as an artist.
The array of females in The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald are unique in their own ways. No two people in the world are the same, but these three women: Jordan Baker, Daisy Buchanan, and Myrtle Wilson are definitely contrasting. Not only are they, in particulars, different from one another, but the way they act and the things they do are also very diverse. Daisy Buchanan is more of a laid back, kind of rich girl who has things handed to her because she has money. Whereas, Myrtle lives with her husband, George Wilson, in a run-down, small house on top of George’s auto-repair shop. Jordan Baker lives with her aunt in an apartment in Manhattan and cheats at golf
I had one tattoo, but I was afraid of forever - of commitment. My tattoo stood for everything that meant forever to me: my brother. "Joshua Hale Burnes" was etched into every fine line and crevice of my wrist, in the most spirally and gothic of fonts. I had plenty of scars that would only fade and never disappear, but my scars weren't a commitment. Promising my therapist I'd try to get better, promising my mom to raise my 3.9 GPA - these were a few of the "promises" I was scared of. Who knew if I could get better? Who knew if I wanted to get better?
Wes was exhausted. It was Monday morning, an no amount of coffee could help him at this point, he was a lost cause. He had gotten about half an hour of sleep the night before while doing more ghost research. He had only slept at all because he tripped over a few art supplies left over from when he was making his charts, and decided that the floor was somewhat comfortable and it was worth too much effort to get up. His father found him in the morning, choosing to ignore the creepy pictures of both Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom tacked to the wall. Thankfully, all Walter said was to clean his room as soon as possible, because frankly, his room was a complete mess. Everything from sharpies and bottles of superglue to cassette tapes about ghosts
This is my story, I am Nancy Killigrew, I do not know how I found myself in the Imperial City and I have no memories of the time before. I am in a cell and I do not know why, nobody will tell me what I have done or why I am here. I am female, I know I am twenty three years of age but I don’t know I know this. In this land I have been known as many names, the saviour of the emperor, and the queen of lust and by a few as a depraved servant of daedra. I have earned all those names and more and have enjoyed earning them, and I’m certain you will enjoy reading about them on the following pages.
Dixie: I don’t think that I would peruse creativity writing if I was not in a college program. This is something that I have to do to get my degree. I will work hard at trying to get through this course with the help of the advice that I do get back on my grades. I am hoping to learn a lot by taking this class and will be a better writer when done with this class.