Descriptive Essay

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.

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

She is small and sharp and angular. Her elbows hurt when they're pressed tightly against you and her small fingers dig into your sides. She rests her chin on your shoulder and it sinks into you. Her fingers are flat- but you always remember them flatter than they are. In your mind, they are a 2D part of her. Her hair looks as if someone set it aflame. It reminds you of October, of the orange, crisp leaves. While you are in no way overweight, you are definitely softer than her. Her hands are delicate, you’re always afraid you’ll crush them, so you hold her hand loosely. You can’t decide what color her eyes are. At first, they seem blue, but the next time you see her you could swear they’re green, and occasionally they look a stormy grey.

Stone, stone, stone, wood. Stone, stone, wood, stone. Stone, wood, wood, brick. I count things when I’m bored. So far I’ve passed twenty-one wood, thirty-four stone, and sixteen brick buildings since entering the city. It only took a damp half days ride to the capitol but it seemed farther away than ever before. Home. The sounds of playing in the garden. The smells floating from the kitchen. Father telling stories by the fireplace while mother smiles at each passing exaggeration. That was a great summer day. It would be the last one for quite some time, perhaps forever. No more beautiful greenery. No more delicious scents. No more wild tales. Not for me at least. Hopefully, my siblings can still have days filled with loving family.

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.

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

Your stomach is feeling bubbly. Following those in charge on an interminable pathway. The waves are wild horses, rearing up before crashing down onto the river, pounding the rocks with their stainless-steel hooves. After finally reaching to the peak of the starting point, the doughnut-like tube emerges itself in the arctic water.

As the glossy doors of the stifling elevator closed shut, I squeezed a large, glowing button that held an image of an upwards arrow. Listening to the humdrum jazz music on my way to the thirteenth floor, my long forehead began to produce droplets of sweat and tears, for the walls of the elevator were closing in on me. In order to calm my fretful senses, I began fiddling with the silver buckles on my briefcase, until a deafening crash entered my ears. The booming sound filled the room once more, this time causing my body to hit the hard ground. Suddenly, the motion of the elevator came to a halt, generating a fuse of the ceiling lights. Across from the silver doors, I noticed three mysterious beings, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. A man with big, dark eyes and an oversized trench coat stared into my very soul, as he resembled a vampire. An elderly woman, wearing a hat and scarf, cackled like a menace each time the elevator clashed. In the left corner, sat another man, with a bloody shirt and a wicked temper. My heart, beating faster than a set of drums, started to ache as I looked around at my inmates. Brooding and staring, each looked at me as if I were a savage animal. Trying to start a friendly conversation, my mouth uttered, “How long do you think we will be in here?” No response. The elevator was so quiet that a dropping pin could be heard.

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.

    I stood at the outskirts of San Jose, California. The night sky was showing with glittering stars, shining the cosmos. The wind as cold as ice with the howling sound of wolves in the background. It was almost pretty peaceful and quiet except for the sounds of nature. My friends and I were camping by a campfire sharing scary stories. Our parents were gone to refill gas and get more food.

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.

Her hair curls off her bright face in tight ringlets like little bundles of joy, accentuating her young enthusiastic face. Her clothes hang off her tiny frame like a potato sack on a twig. Her smile stretches from cheek to cheek, wrinkling her pale forehead and forming small fragile dimples on her rosy cheeks. Her skin is as pale as chalk, accept for her cheeks which go a deep shade of fuschia when she’s excited. She’s like a china doll, all fragile and small with her tiny dresses on. She has thin pink lips with a scar on the lower right corner of her bottom lip. She has little stubby arms and legs which make it hard for her to function normally, as her torso is too big for the rest of her body so she falls over a lot. It's hilariously sad, but she’s a trooper so she gets right back up, brushes herself off and gets on with life. I feel that we could all learn a lot from her.

There is one place that overrules all the others. Only three hours away in Elk County lies my relaxing escape quarter. When I step foot into the old fashioned cabin, all of my troubles go away. I love that it resembles a completely different world. The whirling of the wind, the brightness of the stars, and the fragrance of the fresh air are just a few of my favorite things about spending time at my favorite place. The atmosphere of Elk County contains an incredibly tranquilizing sense. A lonely cabin placed in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone service and rarely any other people. However, if there are other people, we all share the same goal, to relax. The camp itself occupies the top of a popular mountain in Elk County called Winslow Hill. This hill belongs to a portion of the county that houses hundreds of camps, visitors, and the Elk County Visitor Center. This is an easily accessible area where elk can conveniently be seen. The cares of the world come off my shoulders when I step into Elk County.

When living on campus choosing where to eat is tough. Choosing somewhere to impress a date is even harder. Living on North Campus has its perks; there is beautiful scenery, the building is older and full of history, plus you are close to a lot of classes and the student union. However, for those on North campus who don’t have a car and don’t plan on taking dates on buses, there are few options. One of those options is the 1899 Bar and Grill.

The sound of car horns honking, trains whistling, and the sudden halt of our car in reaching traffic caused me to wake abruptly. “Welcome to the Bronx” read the overhead sign; a jolt of excitement ran through my body as we were approaching the Stadium. I then realized that I was going to witness the iconic Derek Jeter complete his final season. Childhood memories were reappearing as the loud mouthed New Yorkers Hollered and polluted fumes were settling. Bronx, New York is truly a place one needs to visit. After paying for an overpriced parking spot, we began our five block hike to Yankee Stadium. The hectic sidewalks were as gum filled as my high school desks along with promoters harassing pedestrians. It seemed as though no one got along outside of Yankee Stadium, aggressive expressions overtook the streets. Whether is was the ticket sharks, homeless looking for change, or cars looking to switch lanes, the chaos was all around.