Descriptive Essay - Clean Up Essay

Traveling is one of my family’s favorite things to do. The family has visited numerous places throughout the United States, however, none are as memorable as Atlanta, Georgia. In Atlanta, there are many places to go and sights to see such as: Cola-cola factory, Cabbage Patch Kids Factory, Under Ground Mall, the Zoo, Atlanta Braves Stadium, Six Flags Over Georgia, Stone Mountain Park, and the Atlanta Aquarium, are all in or near the city of Atlanta. The three that we visit on every trip to Atlanta are Six Flags, Stone Mountain, and the Atlanta Aquarium.

Traveling is one of my family’s favorite things to do. The family has visited numerous places throughout the United States, however, none are as memorable as Atlanta, Georgia. In Atlanta, there are many places to go and sights to see such as: Cola-cola factory, Cabbage Patch Kids Factory, Under Ground Mall, the Zoo, Atlanta Braves Stadium, Six Flags Over Georgia, Stone Mountain Park, and the Atlanta Aquarium, are all in or near the city of Atlanta. The three that we visit on every trip to Atlanta are Six Flags, Stone Mountain, and the Atlanta Aquarium.

I woke up the next morning, and I just knew something was wrong. I got up, looked outside and my beautiful green truck was nowhere to be found. My dad sometimes would take my truck to run errands on the weekend. I was hoping and praying that’s where it was. I opened my door, and heard both my mom’s and dad’s voice. I was starting to panic, so I rushed downstairs. I asked mom and dad where the truck was, and they responded, “It’s totalled, it’s all gone. You were hit by a drunk driver last night. You’re very lucky to still be alive.” I rushed to my room and started to cry. My room felt so hot and humid.

The icy air whistles throughout the town, causing the windows to rattle and the shutters to bang loudly. The town is dark and silent for the sun has yet to rise, but it's a lovely sight with the white snow laying untouched. The houses become works of art, with their beautiful undisturbed snowy roofs. Snug inside a small inn many a pale beauty gazes out over the freshly fallen snow with her unusual purple eyes never leaving the light of the roaring fire from the town-square. Shadows of the flames dance against the freshly fallen snow, and a soul figure tends to the fire. For a second she stands there watching the fire before turning around to face her small bedroom where she glides across the room towards the small narrow wooden door. Pausing with her pale hand hovering just a few inches from the knob, she glances over her shoulder at the frosty snow covered window before giving the knob a slight turn. Slipping into the dark drafty hallway, the pale beauty tugs her white hood up over her snow white hair before stepping onto the creaky spiral wooden staircase. Below she could hear the faint whispers of the innkeeper on how winter has come, but she pays it no mind as she descends the staircase to the room below. The room below is warm just like her small room above, and the warm glow from the fireplace is the only source of light in the room. Slipping into an empty chair, she flagged down the innkeeper with her pale hand, and ordered herself a bit of food.

Hour nineteen was halfway conquered. I could barely take it anymore as I glanced around the car for the thousandth time, it was still the same thing. Several guys crashed out in the back row of seats, the same grey interior with a touchscreen navigator on the dashboard that was set on the directions that read: DESTINATION: ONTARIO, CANADA in the glowing white LED lighting. The distance between the passenger seat and my legs seemed to get closer with every hour that passed by. My legs paid the price; when we got out of the car to refuel on gas, I stumbled out of the solid red Nissan as if I haven’t been able to walk for years. After the quick break, it was back into the car. All 6 of the Anderson men were piled in for the long voyage for our annual fishing trip in Ontario, Canada. The car was polluted with the smell of old fast food, greasy old clothes, and body odor.

I looked out onto what was left of the landscape before me one last time. I used to call this place home but it no longer resembles the one I used to know. “It’s funny how things can go from bad to worse in such a short amount of time” I thought to myself. What once used to be a beautiful blue sky full of puffy clouds shaped like anything that could be imagined was now grey and lifeless. The clouds are no longer white and puffy but dark and menacing. They are racing towards us with the impending storm. The buildings we are leaving behind are still tall and immaculate compared to the brown wasteland around them. There was no longer green in sight except for the vehicles and billboards.

Sitting on the soft sand, I look out over the ocean. The deep indigo blue waters roll onto the beach in sets of white top waves, making a soothing sound as they crash against the shore. I sit there, listening to the the sounds of the ocean, the slight breeze brushes my skin and the salty air fill my lungs. I feel a sense of calmness, a feeling I haven’t felt in years.

Boom! Crash! I see thunder swiftly strike through the shadows and illuminate all of main street. I can hear the shrieks of the wind, and see the relentless rain barraging the thin four pane window next to my booth in Beth and Jerry's. This place is ironically not owned by anyone called Beth or Jerry but instead owned by a tall slender man with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. This man, who is commonly referred to as Ddaniel, appears to be wearing a black shirt, black jeans and a white apron over top. Zzzzt! Poof! The room falls into darkness and an outcry of voices attacks me from every location. I see Ddaniel rushing into the back like a lion chasing it’s prey. He comes back and says, ”We have plenty of candles, no need to panic everyone.” The screams of terror and the outcries of unhappiness cease. The candles reminded me of a baby getting its favourite toy or even a beacon of hope that the power will come back on. A strange man and Ddaniel are handing out the candles. The strange man approaches me, He’s wearing a black jumper, a V-neck undershirt with sunglasses hanging off the bottom of the V and some black ripped jeans. He has an olive complexion, slicked back black hair and brown eyes. He says in a deep, smooth voice “My name is Jeff” is was like a hot 1000 degree knife slicing through butter. Jeff Proceeds to place candles on my oak wood table and continuing conversation. “Just incase you didn’t realise, one of the powerlines on 6th street went down which is why there

I remember the night I felt my tears drop into my hands while being in the center of the room. Everything was blurry around me, even my thoughts. The pain I felt hindered my vision and even interfered with my breathing. I desperate tried not to cry, but couldn’t. A foggy figure started to approach me trying to say something but all I could hear was my heartbeat.

The weather was beautiful that day. The water was a million shades of blue. The The waters were calm, with the occasional swell rolling to shore. I stood at the helm of this luxurious 40 foot boat. It was an all white boat that had a special design for SCUBA Diving and Open Water fishing, called a Mako. I steered the boat into a pretty unprotected bay that had a nice black sand beach to the north and sheer cliffs to the south. The green vegetation clearly contrasted with the black lava fields around it.The water was deep in the bay. Yet the coral reef was visible even in the deepest spots.

The saxophone jazz and chatter from inside creepily faded into the dark streets. I was lurking outside the bar and quickly pacing back and forth against the window. I looked up and down the empty and dark street before quickly pausing to stare into the bar window. The room glowed between the broken blinds. I searched carefully, standing on my toes to see the full expanse of the room. People were dancing against each other, laughing and spilling drinks. Everyone orbited around a band in the middle of the room, as they swung their instruments creating sultry jazz. My eyes landed on a girl sitting alone, her body almost entirely eclipsed by shadows and creepy red glows. I stole looks, my wet eyes tracing down her body and through her shining hair, hypnotized by the lights trailing across her glowing skin. I chewed harder at the soggy toothpick I held in my lips. Suddenly, I saw a pair of shadows cross the window towards the door and instantly I turned my back and leaned against the window, reaching for a box of camels in my jean pocket. The bar door shuddered open and jazz escaped into the streets until the door crashed shut behind them. A laughing couple stumbled out of the darkness and into the flickering streetlight. From the shadows, I watched them closely, bringing a dry cigarette to my lips. I flicked a lighter and cuffed a hand around the flame. With a sizzle, the orange flame weakly illuminated my hungry eyes as they followed the drunken couple down the street. The

I raced through the city; my heart was beating faster and faster with every stride. The air coursed through my brindle-colored coat. With me is my closest companion, my sister, Mabel. She only came along because I told her there would be birds she could chase. But the real reason I wanted to go was to explore the city in which I was born.

By mid-morning it was blistering hot outside. The metal box of a train car meant even higher temperatures inside the non-air-conditioned box car. The camels didn’t seem to mind but I was about to wilt. We were nearly to Huntsville when the train stopped again. Across the tracks from where we stopped an older man stood watering his flowers. Water never looked so cool and inviting as it did that hot Summer morning. I must not have been the only one the water called to as at about the same time, as if on cue, a half a dozen of us hopped off the train and ran over to where the water bearer was standing. One of us asked if we could borrow his hose. He replied with a smile and handed it over, laughing as we doused ourselves and each other with the cool liquid. Holding the hose over my head, I first tensed from the shock of the cold water hitting my head then relaxed as it ran down my body, quenching my parched skin. Thankfully, our train waited just long enough for us to get some relief before jolting awake. Thanking our anonymous friend, I handed him the hose as we all ran back to our silver carriage, waving as we pulled away. I’ve often wondered what he thought about that day. Did he tell the story about the time the circus train stopped at his house to have a water party?

RIINNGGG. The alarming sound coming from the school bell interrupted my nap as I had been sleeping through a lengthy lecture about Ludwig Van Beethoven. I looked out the window, seeing the long, gray clouds covering the sky. I guessed that it might rain sooner or later. I yawned softly, quickly glancing around to make sure no one noticed that I had taken a snooze the whole period.

I breathe shakily as I walk to the airport gate. In eleven hours I’m going to be in Argentina, living with a different family, and speaking in a foreign language. An older woman startles me out of my thoughts when she asks if she’s at the correct gate. I nod. After too long a pause I interrupt her conversation with another older woman to ask if I can practice my Spanish with them. They kindly agree, and I stumble over the correct conjugations as I try to make casual conversation. They respond quickly, and I’m instantly lost. My heart sinks as I thank them. I’m already bargaining with myself as we board the plane. It’s going to be okay, I still have eleven hours to learn conversational Spanish.