Descriptive Essay For Middle School

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.

It has been a long time since hooligans from Fairview stole the trophy and Medicine Lake School's locks have been upgraded by the new Tom Green administration. The old locks have been replaced with expensive and unpickable Abloy cylinders and all glass windows are now alarmed. Nevertheless, despite all the extra security, various items have begun missing from the school for no clear reason. One day, about a third of the computer keyboards are nowhere to be found. The next day, half the clocks are gone. The day after that, someone has taken all the speakers out of the ceiling on the west side. Having a reputation as the guy who got the stolen trophy back from Fairview, I get a call from Tom Green.

In my bedroom closet, folded and tucked neatly in a box, is a blanket. At a glance, the piece of patchwork looks rather mundane. As one looks closer, “blanket” is a rather generous word for the piece, considering it is a part of an unfinished project. So why keep this small scrap of fabric? It provides warmth, not to my appendages, rather to my soul.

I sat on the gentle slope of the hill overlooking the calm winding river. On either side of the river sits a brown canvas painted with the vivid colors of fall. Bright reds, oranges, and yellows speckled the mostly barren trees. On the ground, the once brightly shaded leaves appeared a dreary light brown. The fallen leaves shuffled with the light breeze, creating a relaxing sound like waves rolling on the beach.

The school was indeed an escape, and I had thanked god privately for Brendon Larson. I remember his personality vividly; his light humor and big glasses curved my lips for nearly the whole class. Especially anatomy and pathology, who knew the dull human body, could be so funny. He was generous with his happiness and sprayed a thin layer of hope on all of us from the front of the room. I used his humor as an anesthetic from the spiritual growing pains I was encountering.

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

A sudden shiver ran through my body, I awoke and realize that the sudden jolt that ran through my body was at the cause of airplane turbulence. Airplane turbulence? I wonder why I was on an airplane, I looked left, I looked behind and in front, and I acknowledged everyone is within their own minds right now, dreaming of a vast array of ideas and desires. I frantically look around in the brand new airplane, with the comfort of plush cloth seats and a soft silky blanket at my feet, but either way I was still trying to decipher where I was heading and why I was here, but as I felt a sudden descent , my eyes veered toward to the tiny window as realization engulfs me; I know where I am. I witnessed the scattered city lights along a vast flat piece of land, where the energy beneath me twirled, I knew, I was home. Well, not literally home, but rather my spiritual home, which are the cities of Zapopan and Guadalajara in my beloved country of Mexico.

I was wasted. I can see the colors again. When I tell this to people they look at me like i just grew two heads. This has been happening to me since i was 19 and drank in my parents basement. Now i'm 22. I've grown to learn what the colors mean. I believe they're auras. Why i only see them while i'm drunk, i dont know. I take a peek at the bartender. He was a strapping young man. Young and beautiful. 24 at the most. He was tall and brawny with black hair and a bit of a stubble. He had beautiful light blue eyes, which was magnificent with his dark complexion. He had a pink aura, as i did. A person walks over and sits by me. She's petite with beautiful black curly hair in a ponytail. She had dark, smooth skin. She had strikingly beautiful facial features. A sharp jaw line and a perfectly contoured nose and face. Her beauty looked natural though.Her aura was a light lavender color.

People stared pouring into the house. It took at least 5 minutes for the house to be full of people. Half the people here were not on list, I guess the word of a party spread through out the school.

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.

I wake up to the hot summer breeze blowing through my window. The sound of fans blazing is a pleasant comfort and I turn myself to face the hot white sun. For a moment I consider pulling the heavy black covers back over myself and ignore the fact that the day has already begun. But a reminder I have the day to myself pulls me out of bed. I drag my feet across the soft carpet and ideas for the day flood my mind. I catch myself in the mirror with a small smirk on my face, deep chocolate hair pulled loosely up and I decide today will be good. I open the door to my bedroom, leading to a dark wood staircase.

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.

While walking through the enormous open-gated entry, I glanced down at the freshly printed orange stamp on my hand and smiled to myself. Happy to be back, even though it was sweltering hot, I could not wait for the gut-wrenching fun I was about to enjoy. There seemed to be an ocean of enormous rides set out in front of me. All were shiny and carried the bright colors of the rainbow. Some towered above the rest, reaching great heights within the sky. I could hear the cheerful laughter of children at the carousel, their parents gleefully taking pictures, and the terrified screams of those being swung into the air by monstrous roller coasters.

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.