Descriptive Essay

We have been waiting nine long months, and we have had much preparation to do before the arrival of our daughter. Of all the things we have prepared for her, I am most proud of her room, my mother and I painted it and sat it up with all the accessories together. I sat on the floor and taped off the stripes to be painted, and my mom painted. It was a great team effort, and we are so happy how it turned out. With flowers and butterflies on her wall, busy pattern of stripes and beautiful colors, she is going to love her bedroom. Our crib and furniture is finally set up and put in her room. With pink and green letters above her crib spelling out the name of our precious baby

I never knew what it was like to have a normal heartbeat. I was your typical girl growing up that played with Disney princesses, loved pastel pink, and pranced around the house singing nursery rhymes at dawn. I would wake up every morning with a smile on my face and tell everyone and everything how much I loved them from my parents to my mini pink Barbie sofa that I adored. The world was beautiful and lovely, until I was thirteen years old. I was walking down the crowded and filthy streets of Times Square to a lavish five star hotel that rested on the corner of 45th and Broadway. I walked past the doorman whose hair was as white as snow to the elevator to go up to the 18th floor. I stepped inside of the elevator and clicked the circular yellow button which lit up with the touch of my finger. The elevator began to slowly glide slowly upwards towards my floor. The elevator then came to a sudden halt which took me by surprise. The lights went out. It was as dark as the night of halloween when the bats camouflage in the sky and there is no light to be seen not even from the old fashioned red brick houses decorated in cotton spider webs that lined the street of a tiny wealthy neighborhood in a large city. My entire body was jostled as if I was in the middle of an earthquake and I fell slowly to the ground like the wax melting from a candle. My heart began to thud. I could feel the blood pumping throughout my entire body. The sweat was dripping down my face like I just came out

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.

I’m around nine or ten years old. It’s a warm sunny day and the sky is clear of cloud’s that you can see the perfect light blue. I get a phone call from my mother on the landline. I had no idea the news she was about to tell. It was after school when the life changing call came. It was from there on that I started to slowly grow up.

Soft, gentle sunlight slowly poured through the cracks of light pink curtains, thus, making the room a light shade of pink. The pink on a baby blanket, or even a newly budded rose. After all, Adelaide never failed to pleasingly decorate her room, let alone her house, look aesthetically pleasing to all the acquaintances she has over for dinner. Beep-Beep-Beep! Beep-Beep-Beep! The alarm on her smartphone went off, almost giving her a heart attack. As she sat up, she lethargically sat up, putting her glasses on, for she needs them to view the world more clearly. After putting her glasses on, she grabbed her phone, looking at the time. 7 o'clock. It was just the right time for her to get ready. Getting up in the morning, Adelaide only applied a bit of makeup on, while pulling her hair into a neat, brunette ponytail. As she looked in the mirror, smiling a smile that could intimidate any girl, she glides over to the closet, picking out the perfect outfit, a long sleeved button-up with a plaid skirt, and some lovely, black flats to match. Moving a small stack of clothing, in a corner, lay a picture frame covered in dust and what looked like dirt to Adelaide. As if it were a delicate infant, she carefully removed the grime and muck from the old vintage frame. It was of her mother and father when they were younger, therefore, making her jejune at the time. As she gazed upon the picture frame, a look of pain in her eyes. Moreover, she has not seen her parents in over a

I open my eyes and find myself standing on an old asphalt road, lined with identical houses. Cracks run through the pavement, breaking up the faded yellow lines. Everything is faded, like an old movie. It’s almost grayscale; you can barely see the color, like the life has been drained from this place. I turn my head to the sky, trying to make sense of this strange world. But the sky isn’t the typical blue, it’s a faded blood red, small flakes of ash falling from the sky. One piece lands on my upturned forehead, crumbling on impact. I turned back to face the road, gazing down the broken road. On an impulse, I walk.

Who can stand up to this creature like this? The wolf-like creature shows its dead eyes. It had an arched back and a hole through its stomach. Its cloak was black and oily, and it has 3 blood-red eyes on both sides. And a mouth that was boney and full of sharp teeth. It's clawing like meat-hooks as it uplifted the ground. I had a large but dull sword in my hands, it was heavy but manageable. The creature charged, but luckily, I dodged and ran. The creature was gaining on me. I needed to push through the forest, but it was hard since night fell. The brush kept hitting me. I could hear the beast’s footsteps. as they approached me. Until a cliff appeared ahead of me, there was no jumping, it was too high. I had to stand my ground. I turned around and saw nothing, not a faint sound. I listened as hard as an ear could, but nothing came but a still silence. The forest trees rustle their leaves in the cool wind. “Was it called off?” I thought. I needed to use this time wisely if it comes back. But, is it really gone? Or is it waiting for me to let my guard down? I kept my fighting stance, holding my sword very tightly. “So, you’re an intuitive one, aren’t you?” I heard a deep voice growl from the bushes. The creature sauntered, growling from the brush. “You talk?” I asked. “Don’t be foolish, there are many things you don’t know about me” I held my ground. I looked at my reflection in my sword. I saw myself, a mere ten-year-old, child, fighting a creature like this. My hair was

My hands start to shake as I step into the ice arena. I can’t tell if I’m nervous or just freezing. The ceiling is decorated with annoying pink and yellow streamers. Seems to be right up Susan’s alley. Susan was a friend I wasn’t used to having. She was one of the most popular girls in school and liked by other peers. Today, however, her persona was more timid and worrisome than usual. I turn my gaze towards her hands fidgeting on her shirt and look up to see her eyes with regret. Skating over to lighten her mood, her mouth forms the words “I’m so sorry”. What did she do? Especially to me? It was her birthday and I definitely did not want to spoil that. Susan grips my arm and pulls me over to the frosty hand rail. With big puffs of breath, she mutters “Please don’t get mad at me, but Aila was invited to the party”. I could feel my breathing getting short and my cheeks rosy and hot. No matter what Susan said or did, nothing could make up for inviting someone who has it out for me.

Heavy traffic, blaring sirens, and stress linger in the atmosphere of my hometown Houston. Before coming to Albion, Houston was all I knew about the city. The word city, can be defined as an abundance of things yet, as “Love Where You Live” stated in, “great cities you sense a spirit of generosity visible in small gestures and the large, and it is these that can make ordinary places extraordinary even if they are down heel”(16), yet my hometown seemed to fit the description in a peculiar manner. I lived in Houston for the majority of my life, but I cannot say that I sense a link between it and myself. Setting foot into Albion is the complete opposite. Albion drew me in with its peaceful vibes and welcoming faces. Every time I step outside I am in awe of the greenery surrounding me; whenever I take a walk and run into a stream I am baffled at the fact that the water is so clear that I can see the bottom, that I can hear the chirrup of crickets in the grass.

Texas in the summer is blistering hot. Even in the morning at 10:07 a.m., there is heat foretelling the weather for the rest of the day: hot, hot, and more hot. Thankfully, Mother Nature is not completely unsympathetic; she provides a nice breeze, but it is never constant. However, it is welcome nonetheless. So here I sit, on an uncomfortable bench in front of the local HEB on a Saturday morning. There are no grand events, it seems a typical morning for the small town of Gatesville. I chose this places because my mother had some biweekly grocery shopping to do, and I thought it was the perfect place to observe the general public.

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.

The alluring sun rays peak through the clouds at Ponder Park as I step on the misty lawn. The sweet faces of those who have arrived, peer into the distance. The park represents a heinous, yet endearing place. Unexpectedly, a numbing breeze rushes throughout my entire being. Although I’m tired, the abrupt glimpse of the landscapes beauty glorifies me.

Jamaica. A country roaring with culture and beauty, just as I had imagined. Water as clear as glass and a jungle that touched the sky. Locals singing and dancing everywhere I looked. In awe of my surroundings I stood, not knowing that the next turn I’d make would shatter the perfect image I’d built, and change my perspective completely.

It was our second day in Montana, and I was so excited to be going on a beautiful hike with my family. The roundtrip was about five miles there and back, and it is one of the most highly rated and enjoyed hikes in Northern Montana. We figured there would be lots of other travelers, and the first part was crowded with people. But as intensity increased, the number of people decreased. We trekked up the steep incline on the first mountain, to the point where we were able to see into the valley far below us and the sky on the other side. In an instant, the warm and sunny Montana day turned windy and cool.

It was a chilly night, but the sky was clear and the stars were shining brighter than ever. The soft breeze made the trees rustle. I liked that sound. It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. It made me feel relaxed. I was looking out my bedroom window thinking that nothing could destroy this relaxing, happy, and beautiful night, but I didn’t know what was coming.