Descriptive Essay - It 's Quiet

The slave narrative genre is an important part of American history. These stories are not only portraits of individual history, but also of American history. By reading the stories of the past we can better determine the path of the future. The personal stories of Frederick Douglass and Harriet Jacobs are two excellent examples of the slave narrative genre in American literature. To be sure, bondage and oppression had a lasting and profound effect on both genders; however, men and women experienced slavery in different ways. By comparing and contrasting “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass, an American Slave” and “Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl,” we gain very different insights into the truth about slavery from the vantage

Through the fear and terror of the war, Antonina was able to provide some clam and peacefulness to her guests and family (Ackerman 2007).

“Where have you been all day?” Rasheed was shrieking as his red-vein scattered eyeballs glared down at Mariam and Laila. “I want nothing but the truth.” He was starting to march towards Mariam with his belt in one hand and a fist of fury in the other. It was as if he was preparing to go to war. “I did not mean to do this,” Mariam started to say. She was starting to turn pale and tears were dripping from her eyes at this point. Laila was standing next to Mariam with Aziza between them. Laila also seemed to have tears in her eyes and was shivering with fear. “This is my fault,” Laila pleaded. “Please, if you are not going to let us go, at least let Mariam and Aziza go because I am the one who started this.” “You do not understand,” Mariam implored. Her voice was now as quiet as a mouse. “I am begging you to please not cause harm to us because this will especially be devastating to

Thessalia slowly opened her eyes and binked against the bright light of the midday sun. She yawned and streched her sleepy limbs, careful not to dislodge herself or her things, from her treetop perch. From here she could see almost all of the island. While the habour still remained empty, everywhere else was alive with frenzy. The venders in the western quarter looked like they were selling twice as many weapons as normal. Thessalia could see them being carted in wheelbarrows to the training grounds. Thessalia couldn’t see into the grounds of the Gynasium but she knew exactly what the warriors would be doing, and how busy they were.

Nammi ran across the open bay feeling as if it were nothing more than an open shooting range. Shots rained down around them as the world erupted into chaos and flames. Her boots ground against the metal below them, the debry scattered around making it difficult to keep stable footing. Namid slid to cover as the damsel in distress (Jorgen) she saved only a few moments before caught up to her.

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.

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.

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

It felt nice, the fresh breeze of air as I jogged down a desolate park during the night time. It wasn’t a good day, so it felt nice to have the moon in full view over me as I vented my frustrations in each step I took. Suddenly, I heard crying. I took an earbud out, no longer hearing Taylor Swift, and the crying was louder than ever. Bewildered, I looked around for a moment as I suddenly noticed a few feet away on a bench, a girl was crying. I squinted for a bit, trying to see her clearly in the darkness. Immediately, I noticed she was young. I saw she was rather skinny, somewhat tall thought that could be deceiving as she was sitting down, and was wearing a crop top that showed off her belly and displayed a low V-neck with shorts that clearly showed off her features. She had on stockings, and I could see her shoes were next to her, 3 inch heels that looked clearly painful as she was massaging her feet for the moment on the bench, tears streaming down her face as she was looking down. I approached for a moment, “Hey.”. She jumped, startled by the apparent hello, and looked up to find me approaching her, as I quickly held up my hands, to show I meant no harm. There was an awkward silence for a moment, as we stared at each other for a moment, as I’d calmly take one step after another towards the bench, my mind racing and my heart aching as I felt I needed to confirm my worst thoughts. I was finally able to sit next to her, I didn’t look at her yet though, as she was still

Toshaina has the biggest heart, she would hand it away to anyone who inquired. Moreover, she is generous, patient and possesses a magnificent sense of humor. She constantly reminds me of sunflowers, she can brighten up anybody’s day by simply speaking to them. Her power to continue strong in whatever situation is mind blowing. Her biggest motto was too always “be better than me” I would think to myself “how when you’re already so freaking great” but she assured me that she’s not and wasn’t at my years. She invariably delivered on a fresh pair of Jordan’s and polo outfit she felt like you couldn’t wear one without the other. The color she wore the most was yellow, being born a Jamaican she always enjoyed the color since birth.

It was a cool October afternoon and I was just so excited to see my friends tonight.The spookiest night of the year,and me and my buddies were gonna go out and scare so many people with our scary costumes.Sam was going as a witch doctor and Cameron was going as Frankenstein.But I on the other hand,I was a scary bed! I know,it wasn’t that scary but it went with the theme so it was worth it I guess.At about 8:00pm Sam finally arrived and he looked so scary,I am not going to lie but I was jealous.”Look at how cool I look,are you ready to scare some heads off.”

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.

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.

My sweaty palms ran through-out the thin strands of my hair as I tried to comfort myself for just a single moment. I felt scared, almost terrified as the screams of my nightmare echoed in my ears and made my head throb. Almost never did I have such vivid dreams, and when I did, I never remembered them the next day. Nevertheless, I don't think that I'll ever be able to make amends with my darkest memories and reliving situations that scarred my childhood and eventually my life, can never be forgotten. All I can do is go back and ask what this version of myself could have done to avoid or even confront the situations and events.

today much of our society is overtaken by distractions such as social media, texting, tweeting, making calls, as well as other things making us too busy in our everyday lives to be able to sit down and take a deep breath. We as people have so many things running through our brains all at one time we can never just take a moment to ourselves and think. I myself even find it hard to separate myself from everyday distractions like my cell phone, and computer so, I decided to take two, one hour sessions in two separate locations to record and analyze everything I heard and witnessed during those two sessions of silence without any possible distractions.