Describe A Place Creative Writing

Knock, knock, and then I hide under my brother bed and he pretends to sleep. I was so anxious, that I started to get anxious and wanted to vomit, but I manage to hold it in. Beside by being nervous and nochious, her feet smell like a football locker room, and she is wearing my mom slippers. How dare you, she can’t wear my mom slippers with that gruesome feet. What her feet are purple, what is she. After she left we went down stairs to spy

Four friends were going to hang out at Kings Island during Halloween Haunt. Their names are Jane Rogers, April O’Neil, Steve Rogers, and Donatello Hamato.

I layed back, kicked my feet up, and looked up at the sun trying to break through the leaves of the enormous Oak trees. There is one place I always end up when I want to escape from the rest of the world: Pokagon State Park.

My family moved from Garden Grove to La Habra at the end of first grade in order to be closer to our water store. It took me a while to adjust to my new school and every day I ended up talking to a new group of peers.

If you look in the Sayre park art room, you might see someone standing in there painting or drawing or maybe even sculpting with clay. She is very elegant and friendly. But who is she?

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.

named Hollands Cove. Almost as if it were a secret the entrance to the community the roadway lies bare. A small dirt road with two fields on either side are backed by trees, small bushes, and a slight glimpse of a gray decaying haunted house. However during the early summer if you drudge through that field of tangled weeds you would find the bushes lined with juicy summer blackberries that stain your fingertips.

“We need to be there. We need to stop. Can we stop? I don’t feel well. Please, let’s just stop for the night. I”m going to be sick.”

As the winds wisp through the willowy woods on one warm November nighttime, our worrisome subject eyes a wooden orifice far into the night. The crunch of leaves and pinestraw accompany his stroll through the midnight Mississippi forest. Spanish moss waves through the wind as Deacon, or as he is affectionately known by his friends as Deac, moves ever so closer to this new object. It is the source of his visit to this mundane backwood land that appears otherworldly to Deac. A cabin in the woods is where Deacon is making his trek to, to visit his girlfriend’s family. “They could’ve told me that I couldn’t drive to the cabin,” Deacon mumbled to himself as he battles the brisk, hard blast of the breeze in the barren woodland. Deacon reaches the door of the

I can feel the warm breeze push against my face as I am travelling up the mountain. I can feel the sweat dripping down my face. A mountain lion roars in the distance. Trees become scarce as I continue up to the summit. I can smell the sweatiness of myself and the other backpackers as we scramble up the boulders. The dry air is tickling my taste buds, as oxygen becomes more difficult to obtain.

“Scarlette, Scarlette, come here. You won’t believe what I’ve found,” My little sister, North comes bounding over to me, holding something in her tiny hand. She opens her hand to show me what she’s found. A tiny gray watch lies in her open palm, the worn out steel shows traces of dried blood, the arms of the clock no longer work, and the band is shredded.

As day turned to night, cooler weather returned. The cold wind came so suddenly, it caught everyone by surprise- servants hurried to collect firewood, stock up on meats, fresh fruits, and vegetables; also, non-perishable foodstuffs such as flour, meal, coffee, and sugar, just incase it became too cold to get out into the streets to go to the market to get them. Most agreed that the inclement weather was due to the late storm- according to Angelique’s butler, Jubal, the storm threw things out of whack as it traveled north. He hypothesized that the swirling winds suctioned the cold wind from the north down into the bayous. Maybe he was right; the cold winds sure replaced the warm ones in a hurry.

I checked the door and it was open so I secretly snuck into it and shut the door so there was only a sliver of light coming in. Miss Sally’s purse was light brown so I looked through all the other purses in the closet until I found it on the ground. Just after I took out the chapstick and applied some to my lips I hear a voice coming from outside the closet. “Jillienne Judith Ness!” It was Miss Sally. Slowly, I came out of the closet with a guilty look on my face. “What were you doing in there?” I pulled out the chapstick I had hiding behind my back and showed it to her. She looked down at me with empathy. Thinking that the world was ending I almost started to cry but before I could Miss Sally gently took her chapstick out of my hands and sent me back to my

With my ticket in hand along with my bags, I'm ready to board the space

On a hot summer day in small town called Town Square. It was a small town with only 200 people living in it. In a house on 56th street lived a 16 year old boy. His name of Jimbo and who lived his 10 year old brother and His Mom and Dad. The lived in that small house of 13 years. It was June 14, 2035. It was first year collage for Jimbo, he was very scared of bullies and gruesome people. The problem was jimbo had a major anger issue. At his first day of school he went to his first day of class and another college student tripped Jimbo. Jimbo fell to the ground and had a bloody nose. While he was getting up he got sacked. The other college students name was Randy.