Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

His palm imprinted through layers of my skirt and lace panties onto my arse cheek.

I remembered the ecstasy I felt when I was with him, the way he kissed my lips softly. I smiled at the thought of him pulling me into the ocean, caressing the sides of my body. I couldn 't write about the happiness I felt when I was with him. I had crushed papers endlessly because I couldn 't get the words to string along perfectly. It was then that I realized that I was in love with him, even though our hands didn 't fit together perfectly and silence constantly filled the air between us. It was the type of love people don 't write about, the kind that no movie has ever seen. It amazed me, discovering something that few people knew about. I looked at him and saw the passion in his eyes, there were no desires of hunger driven lust. We were different, he loved black and I loved white, but when we met in the middle, there was a balance that could be seen with the naked eye. It was a deep, tender, ineffable feeling that consumed my body in ways I didn 't know possible. I began to believe that he was the most important thing in my life remembering the ways we used to sit in the wet grass drinking till we reached a comatose state of mind. It was on these late nights that he got to see the weakest parts of me, as he read the stories I wrote in my darkest moments. He was the only person I trusted, the only person who had seen the real me. But I needed to let go.

The word lost was becoming more operative by the moment. The morning 's ice fishing over at nearby North Pond had been fine. After I ate my fish cakes back in my cabin at Mohawk Mountain, heat radiating from the wood stove, I 'd felt warm enough to peel down to a t-shirt and read. That was this morning.

awn approached. Young Queen Audra referred to this time as the quiet hours, the time of day when all fell silent and most people remained locked away in restorative sleep and pleasant dreams.

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.”

Gulp, as I stared up at the towering tall roller coaster. Goosebumps covered my body. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. It was our turn next, as the coaster came into view. When it came to a halt, I inched in the roller coaster, as fear oozed out of my eyes. Next, I clipped my seat belt in and forced the bar down, the lady soon was at my side and checking my seat belt. Her gentle hands grasped the strap, as she gave a few tugs here and there. When she put full pressure on the cold gray bar, it started to rest on my thighs. Instantly, the click sounded and the attractive lady disappeared to the next cart. In the distance, I could see her happy, joyful face before it fanished in the screaming mob. Before I knew it, my horrified look came back and the seat belt started to suffocate me. But I wanted to be more safe than sorry.

* I decided to rewrite this story, but it is mostly me fixing it up here and there. I went back to read it all over again and it really needs some work. I know I am still not the best writer but I will the best I can.

Your name is Pacifica Northwest and you are an eight year old, vivacious, wealthy blonde living in the peaceful town that was Gravity Falls, Oregon. It was small, and your mansion was probably one of the biggest buildings in town, owned by none other than Patricia and Richard Northwest.

I was in the car waiting for my mom to drop me off at practice so I can be ready for the game tomorrow. I was there I got out of the car and said by to my mom

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.

I was used to moving round, having a mother who liked to travel more than making roots was something I had gotten used to. Still, I had never gotten used to the loneliness of an empty house when she was out exploring, or the feeling of leaving behind someone who could have meant something to me.

I had only been to Nabir once. I was traveling to another plane when I discovered I had accidentally deviated from the normal route, landing myself in an unfamiliar place. The Nabirians wore elaborately engraved tags around their necks that varied between bright neon to modest bland colors, all of which had numerical values inscribed upon them. The people minded their own business, kept polite conversations, and talked in smooth voices; a refreshing change to the other unscrupulous planes I had visited in the past. I was enticed, however, by how incredibly intelligent the people on the plane appeared to be — though I soon found that conversing with a Nabir native could be quite undesirable and mostly one sided.

The moment I first saw my newly born nephew was magical. I walked into the hospital room and there he was, in the arms of his aunt. He was perfect, a little miracle, an angel. My heart squeezed when I first saw him and I immediately fell in love. Then, I held him. He was so alert and perfect; I couldn’t stop looking at him. His tiny, perfect hands and feet and his adorable facial expressions: he was so beautiful! And I cried. The feeling I experienced was so powerful that it is hard for me to imagine that it will be even stronger when I have my own children. I couldn’t believe he was my little nephew and he was finally here! I had been anxiously awaiting his birth from the day I found out I was going to become an auntie. Even after seeing him and holding him, it took a while for the idea to sink in that he was real and that I was finally an aunt! I didn’t want to ever put him down; I could’ve held him and watched him forever as he slept so peacefully and beautifully, my little angel.

Everyone I met melted in the palm of my hand. They all loved me. Now, I strike fear into the hearts of all men. It all started when I was nine, on a hot, humid afternoon. All because of innocent, little Elizabeth.

With every step I took away from him, my life was shattering. My heart was screaming, begging, trying anything to get me to turn around and run right back into his waiting arms. The arms that I would never be wrapped up in again. To the lips that the first time they met mine, with the simplest touch, could leave my world spinning, and take my breath away, leaving me stumbling with a wide smile and a blush coloring my cheeks. The long hall in front of me blurred with tears as I remembered the first time I saw him, he was leaning against the same locker that I now crumble against.