Descriptive Essay About My Friend

More times than not- pit bulls are falsely seen as cruel, ferocious, blood thirsty animals. The media is partially to blame for evoking all of this fear and anxiety. All I can say is, own one before you judge one! I have been a proud owner of two pit bulls for over eight years now and I have nothing but fun, loving times to report about these cuddling beasts.

Today is the day when my life changed. My best friend is gone and I have no one to play with. I was really sad. I didn’t know what to say nor think. In school I was distracted. I couldn’t concentrate. I felt warm tears running down my cheek again and then I realize I was crying. I whipped my face feeling the warm tears on my hand. Mom picked me up early because I was crying, a lot but I didn’t want to go home because I knew he would not be there. I wish he would come back. I want him with me and I burst in tears again. This is the story of when I lost my dog friend.

"Aww what a cute Pitbull!" Pitbull's has been a famous species for years. May some people think that the Pitbull's are terrible.

The stone streets were a veil at this time of night, with who knows how many menacing horrors hiding behind the curtain. The lingering gas hovering over the ground was timid, dispersing at the sight of anyone who strayed near. The moon tried to pry into the city’s shadows, but it was too thick to cut. The buildings were nothing but faded memories: gray, eroded structures that once boasted splendor and beauty. Street rats, both rodent and human, scuttled about in the alleyways, knocking assortments over and fleeing if anyone walked past, just like the gas. A dog barked in the distance. Car horns blared on 5th Avenue nearby. Tank sighed. No place like home.

We have all heard the horrific things said about pitbulls such as, “Pitbulls are mean and vicious, keep your kids away from them!” or “Pitbulls are beasts!” and so forth. I believe in justice for pitbulls and that they are just misunderstood and no where near a monster. Myths, misdeeds, misunderstanding, and hysteria are all results of people who do not fully know the pitbull breed; choosing to alter the truth about pitbulls. I’m here to broaden your view on pitbulls and hopefully in a positive way.

When I stepped out of the car onto the freshly paved road, I instantly recognized the smell of asphalt that was paved onto the street moments ago. I could hear the jackhammers pounding into the ground, making the ground shiver as if it was cold and the sound of power tools grinding into metal pierced my ears. As I looked up to the sky, I saw cranes towering above me and mirrored skyscrapers reflecting the bright, blinding light. In the distance, I could see the Art Museum with hundreds of people racing up the steps like tiny ants. At the top, stood the Rocky Balboa statue and other structures, with bystanders modeling for pictures as if they were on the red carpet.

I was giddy to get home i was walking down my my street “ Walkers rd.” I scoffed and roll my eyes. I walk down this road everyday and appreciate the scorching irony every time. I opened the deep oak doors with force. My 13 year old body still has trouble. I shoved the door with the elbow my grey backpack wasn't depending on. Finally when my body managed to push the door, something wasn't right. By that i mean my house wasn't mine… the orchard my mother obsesses over wasn't the center of the foyer , the bright white walls with the complementary purple rug wasn't there. It was dark with a rustic light switch. I hit the light switch and the creepy hospital lights that turn on one by one showed blinding light that settled to a musty yellow

It was a morning similar to any other. I had been seventeen for a full twelve hours. It was now time for me to head to work and earn the wages of a teenage employee. The entirety of my previous summer consisted of nothing but helping my father rebuild a 1976 Ford Bronco. The Jade-Green beauty was my new favorite thing. I had completed the majority of my commute and was one more left turn away from reaching my destination. I saw that my arrow was orange and, hardly even glancing at the traffic coming towards me, I made the turn. The first lane I crossed over was clear. The second lane though, came with a little car barreling down at me.

Vultures illuminated by dim headlights took flight from their gathering place around a piece of carrion, a disemboweled[1] armadillo, as he passed. The radio was cycling[2] through stations of its own accord. The moon wasn’t visible[3]. His first assumption[4] was that it was obscured by clouds, but there were none. His leg bled[5] steadily. Blurred silhouettes meandered across the road; he made no attempt to avoid them as they meshed around his vehicle, emitting[6] harsh whispers into its confines. He’d seen nary another vehicle in four hours. The road was disheveled and rough, and clearly had not been tended in numerous years. He could tell he’d reached his destination when the abyssal expanse before me underwent a marginal change in color

It happened in an instant. There was a light, misty rain. The road was wet, slick and covered with gravel. I had driven home this way one thousand times, but today would be different. As I steered the car through the slow, wide right curve my tires hit some wet gravel. Maybe the low setting sun got in my eyes, maybe the radio was too loud, or maybe I was tired from a long day at school, but I took the turn too wide and the car started to slide off the road to the right. Panicked, I pulled the wheel and over-corrected the slide to the left. I swerved across the oncoming cars, jumped the car over the drainage ditch and landed into someone’s front yard. The car destroyed the lamp post, clipped the old oak tree, and spun around 360 degrees.

A naive child, standing tall against the deepening colors of an approaching sunset, felt the shudders of air through his skin. Vibrations erupted through the rusted metal and ancient wooden boards, leaving him to inhale the smoky wind as the beast arrived. A squeaking groan traveled its way up his skeletal figure as the booming became louder, headlights already in view from afar. He planted his feet sturdy between two boards, his usual routine. With his arms upstretched to the ever changing hues of the city’s ceiling, he screamed out-- a battle cry of frustration and sadness, mixing with stress and happiness all in one feeling. Words could not begin to cover the trials he must have gone through that week. The army of wheels charged against the ground beams covering more ground by the

As I walked merrily back from my friend’s house, I noticed that heavy traffic covered all the roads. The streets were like busy bees surrounding their hive. The hooting of cars and buses boomed through my ears. The sun glowed gently over the horizon as the blast of warm breeze diffused over my body. The sun dipped through the sky as it replaced its yellow stains into black, dusky shades of ink. The crowd imperceptibly disappeared as I changed my way to the other side of the street. As the sun settled down; desolate, pure blackness began to sneak in.

The car stopped at an old farm. In the middle lay a rotting barn that had once been light blue. Paint peeled. Rusted tractor parts and equipment were scattered across the lawn. To the right lay deep green woods. Dirt road stretched to the left. The farm looked utterly deserted.

As we grow older, we meet new people and make new friendships. Out of all the people you meet there is always that one friend that you click with the most. That being said a best friend is someone you look out for and care for like sibling. As we grow older we have a perception of growing old and having your best friend by your side, but I came to the realization one morning that it is not true. I found out my childhood best friend past away from a drug overdose.

My cousin, Richard, was such an inspiration to my two brothers and me. I looked up to him for everything. He was an amazing athlete who would never give up on or off the baseball field. I never knew how fast something could be taken away until January 12. I thought the world was just simply punishing me, but then I realized that I couldn’t control what happened even if I wanted to.