Describe a Person who has influenced you in either a bad or good way

“Class, this is our new student, Amanda Laine.” the girl’s new teacher, whose name she learned is Ms. Rybin, says to the class. She tells the green-eyed girl where to sit, so she sits. Amanda didn’t talk much the rest of the day.

Today I am talking about how my best friend and I met. My best friend’s name is Sydney Rott. The story of how we met is a cliché but I am going to explain it anyway. We didn't know each other up until my Sophomore year and her Junior year. I decided I wanted to go out for the tennis team, even though I have never really played before, I still decided to join. Sydney was the number one player for the Harrisburg Tennis Team. I thought that she was a brat when I first met her, but as time went on I started to like her.

The mouldy, rotting, brown house stood in front of Emily, only fear keeping her feet planted to the ground. Moaning and creaking noises being projected from the house. The grass was damp from the evening fog and every time she took a step the mud squelched. The bottom step squeaked as she applied pressure with her foot, she let out a sigh of relief as the old structure hadn’t swallowed her up. The door, slightly off colour from the rest of the house, loomed over her like a giant as he reached for the brass door handle. A shiver ran through her body like an electric current, the musty smell of a house that had been long abandoned filled Emily’s nose. It was dim and uninviting. The furniture dusty and old, looking as if it would crumble to dust if she was to touch it. Mould ate away at

There are two people that have significantly impacted my life, my parents. From the warmth of a hug to the sternness of a talk they have always been there. The softness of there hands or not so soft hands when I needed a hand to either get off the ground, or to cross the streets. The care in there eyes when I needed a band-aid, or when I was sick, or sad. The goodnight kiss and hug they give me before going to bed. The protection I felt when I was scared or when there was conflict. The taste of a good home cooked meal. Most of all the smell of my mom and dads perfume and cologne, why does it still smell so good!

One of the houses was Deep South looking; run down and bare of any organized growth, i.e. landscaping. It was just a large rectangle— greatly in need of paint and repair. And, this house just happened to be near the heart of The Town of Smithtown, right in the cross roads of the historic area of the celebrated main street. But, in hindsight, perhaps this dwelling was a part of that history—a reminder of the history that had its good and bad; the well to do and the have nots, with some of the have nots, not having because the haves didn’t want them to.

When I moved to Florida in elementary school, Lynn and I promised each other that we would keep in touch. We’ve been best friends since she reached out to me the day I arrived at a Korean church in Alabama. Ever since I left, we texted each other daily. After 8th grade, excitement for high school dominated our texts. We conjured up grand plans, varying from surgeons to global journalists. We also had chats typical of 13-year-old girls–complaints about school, crushes on boys, etc. I assumed that Lynn’s life was the same since I left.

In addition to gradually exposing the reader to the deep background of the residence, thus obliquely strengthening the narrative, the descriptions and facts help Wilson to remember the basic appearance, location, and significance of his old family home. Admittedly learned through “county history”, Wilson reveals that the house was “built by the Talcotts, after whom the town is named.” Furthermore, the home’s construction began in 1800 and took four years to build because it’s “stone had to be quarried out of the banks of the Sugar River” and it’s “beams were secured by enormous nails... some of them eighteen inches long.” These researched details of the estate appear insignificant to the storyline; however, they allow Wilson to access an elementary visualization of his childhood home because, according to Birkerts, Wilson’s “patient focus on preserved materials will bring back troves of specific information”.

Although this was taken seven months ago, it feels as if it was just yesterday that my sister, Cortney, began a new stage in her life. She is no longer my bedroom neighbor just a hallway length away. The bathroom that was once shared is now only occupied by me, that bedroom next to mine remains vacant, and I am officially an only child -or so it seems. It’s crazy to believe we are already teenagers. As children, we got along much better than average siblings. We never fought, always shared clothes, and even shared friends despite the age difference. As time went on, we grew closer; making it even harder for us to be separated from each other long term. Next thing we knew, it was August 24, 2015, the time had come that Cortney was graduated and moved on to bigger and better things. My family took two cars over two hours away to say our goodbyes. Despite the fact that we did not want

12 years ago, Gina and I had first met at a fateful Daisy Scout meeting—but 7th grade was when we ecstatically joined the photography club and bonded over photoshoots of the snowy soccer field, daisy bouquets, and the town’s architecture. Freshman year, she persuaded me to join the tennis team with her, and from the experience, I've grown to love the sport and even make friends at Shelton. Finally, in our shared classes like APUSH, we had a blast recording an 80s mixtape for our final exam project. Our friendship is symbiotic—I teach her trickier concepts while she pushes me to loosen up and say what’s on my mind. Before junior year when I moved to a different town and high school, we promised to stay close and meet up every month. Although

The roof looked battered and dilapidated. The roof was pointy, like the point on a witch’s hat. The roof sloped at odd angles. So much so that you would look at it and wonder, what would happen if you skied off the roof in the winter? The house had droopy, wooden shutters on the windows that were hung crookedly on purpose. The house was a yellow beige color with odd leadlight

The house was long, white, and had blue shudders. I could always pick out which set of windows out front peeked into my bedroom because of the messy off-white paint stuck to it after years of never being touched up. Inside, so much more was going on than the typical all-American home lead outsiders to believe. Confusion, growth, fear, and lots of aluminum cans.

I cannot remember any person in my life that impacted me so much. If I had to credit any one individual who impacted my life it would have to be Jim Brown. Jim always preached about a code of ethics. He would often come to the high school and speak to us students. Some of our teachers would invite him to speak to our class. Whenever he came to speak he would always wear a suit. Blue or gray. He would always talk about this code of ethics. I was not sure what they were but I liked the respect he would receive from the community because he shared his belief in them so much. Well let’s began my story.

“It's a letter from school , saying that I will be attending Berkmar Middle School for my 8th grade year mom.”

I hated the lies between my “best friend” and I; I hate the hospital here, I hate that I couldn’t spend much time with my friends as much as my brother did, or having a chance to mapping around to all these places he was bragging about. But then, after wasting my first week, now I let the breeze brush against my skin and let my hair fly back behind me. The scent of everything keeps pulling me back and won’t let go. After all these years, I am finally here, sitting behind my friends electric bicycle and listen to them spilling out all these café shop and food stands they went after school and how our classmates had changed throughout the

Someone Who Has Influenced My LifeI am writing an essay for my English class and keep getting an E what am i doin wrong?