Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

He ended the kiss, but pressed his forehead to mine, as we both tried to regain some control. “I think,” I said between breaths, “you want to fuck me up against your car.”

"Mom! Dad! I 'm going out for a run!" I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a banana, finishing it off quickly as I got my earphones and phone.

“Loki” I called, “Come on, time for a walk.” That was all it took, when I was only halfway through the sentence my dog came charging over, almost knocking me down. I laughed. “We’ll go outside in a minute, just hold on.” I said as I attempted to put a leash on the excited husky. I’d had a long day at school, and I was ready to take a break. ’A walk outside would be pretty nice.’ I thought.

Seeking Santa a spot near the radiator, behind the chair,my hiding place each Christmas Eve,in my dreams is always there.with twinkling lights reflecting off the icicles,so many, the star that shone so bright ontop, the gifts beneath, aplenty.I 'd sit there waiting, eager to see, the jollyold elf who seemed to know me, no movewould I make, not a peep nor a soundin case Santa came and I would be found.quiet and warm and tucked in tight, I 'dwait there alone in the dark on that night,sure I would see him, and he 'd not see me,but not once in my life was that ever to be.For I 'd just blink my eyes and open to see theChristmas sunrise was waiting for me.the cookies all eaten, the milk gone as well,like my hopes of a story that I 'd never tell,of the time I saw Santa, saw him comewatched him go, and the secret ofChristmas that I finally know...

We pulled up the driveway, the headlights of the car shining against the metal garage door. I listened to the sweet melody flowing from the white headphones all the way through my ears. Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron & Wine played, the lyrics burning themselves in my brain, leaving the permanent mark of the emotions that filled each sweet, meaningful word. My mom pulled a headphone from my ear aggressively and shook her head at me.

Upon arriving at a two- story house located in a small suburb in the middle of the scorching Arizona desert. You can see one big window from the outside of the house, similar to the size of a fifty-inch TV. Little do you know that behind those windows lies a room filled with peace, security, and warmth. Therefore, your curiosity peaks and decides to explore the enchanting room. As you enter the house you see a stair case to your left about ten steps from the main door. After you make the journey through all of the sixteen steps, you see a room to your right that captivates your attention. You take nine steps to the right, which leads you inside an illuminated room covered in fluffy almond wash carpet. You encounter many items that catch your attention.

As you kneel down on the hard wood floor in cabin 12, the smell of 4-day-old, moldy tube socks that have been soaked in lake water sneak into your nose. They were balled up under one of the beds, and left to ferment in the muggy summer heat. As a cabin keeper at Merritt Reservoir, you will have many bizarre encounters in the short three-month summer break that you spend there. You need a variety of supplies to clean different types of cabins, and they can be classified as the busy work cabins, party cabins, mystery cabins, and the outhouses. The supplies range from typical cleaning utensils such as rags and window cleaner, extra toilet paper and towels, Febreze, and rubber gloves for sticky situations. However, also be sure to grab mousetraps, a bible, and a long wooden rod with a hook on the end. This sounds unusual, but it will make sense soon.

I slam bolt upright, gasping out of the dream. My hands burrow into my sleeping bag, fingers clutching the fabric, grounding me back into reality. No one else is awake, so I sit there, trying to manage my hyperventilation, unable to understand how a dream can feel so real and still be a dream. I can’t shake the feeling of the blood oozing through my fingers, so I unzip from my sleeping bag and stumble out of the tent and into the frigid night air.

I rolled out of bed and landed on the ruff discoloured carpet; I hadn 't vacuumed in months. I got up. I stretched out my ridged body. I fumbled to the door, not being bothered to switch on the lights. My tongue was dry and I needed something to quench my thirst- soda. Once I entered the hallway, I was assailed by a blinding light coming from Savannah 's, my sister 's bedroom. Curious - I made my way towards her room as my eyes adjusted to the new-found brightness.

It was another typical day in Washington as gray clouds drifted lazily across the blue sky, hiding the bright rays of the sun from view. A light shower sprinkled over Seattle and only increased as the clouds grew thicker and dense. Sixteen year old Jae Fault walked to school; Greenwood High.

The cool dampness from the morning dew caused my feet to itch. This particular morning was chilly and damp. I love to go to yard sales with my mom, but at 6:00 am. Really? “Oh my goodness, look at this,” said my mom. She had located a goat. Yes a goat. Not the live, breathing kind, but the stuffed cute kind. He wore a small black and white striped outfit and the tiniest red bandana. His wire rimmed spectacles set off huge eyes which were topped off by large curling horns. All in all he was about 8 inches tall. He held a small sign that said “Old Goat” in black writing.

I walked into the house and dropped my book bag on the floor. It made a loud thud against the wood floors. I stood for a moment before taking off my jacket. If Locke had been home, he would have come running and asked what that sound was. Instead, the house was silent. I removed my jacket and hung it up, letting out a sigh. Feeling at ease, I walked into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich.

You can do that?! Haha, no not right now. You done so much already, let me do something for you for a change. I got Seti to make his people make a plaque for you. I don’t know how well it will work though since lately all of Seti’s plans has

There’s something I need to say and what follows may not be something that you’d expect, it won’t be heartening or uplifting. If you remember today, I told you about going somewhere I wanted to go to… I’m not sure if you believed and accepted what I now confess as untrue; it is partly. I needed to pull away emotionally… from you.

It was a crisp morning in the first week of June, 2014. With her step-mom and father, Oriana and I got into the car at four o’clock in the morning and set out for the Eppley Airfield in Nebraska. The lengthy drive was masked by exotic dreams of Europe as Oriana and I slept soundly in the backseat of their champagne Cadillac. Before we knew it, the sun was creeping up from behind the scenery, eloquently painting the sky with vibrant tones of red, orange, and purple.