Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

I asked my mom “what’s wrong,” she replied with a sorrowful “your Aunt Lisa is in trouble, we must leave now.” The worst part of all of this was my Aunt Lisa’s son was with us, Matthew. He did not know what to think or believe. No one knew the world would slowly start shattering beneath all of us that morning. We drove to her house, we saw ambulances and police cars driving by, that did not help our nerves at all. We finally arrived at her apartment, we never thought all of those emergency vehicles would be going there. My brother and I stay in the car since I was only eight and he was only eleven. My mom and cousin run into the apartment hoping to only find my Aunt had fallen and is unconscious, or she is passed out drunk, just let it be something that is not permanent. What they come to find is that my Aunt is laying on the floor, unconscious, but cold as ice. It was not from someone killing her, or us getting there too late. She had died twenty-four minutes before that phone

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

I WAS SITTING IN a taxi, wondering if I had overdressed for the evening, when I looked out the

As I scan the never ending line of trailers, my grandmother’s stands out. Faded metal siding clinging to the unevenly pitched roof, grass struggling to grow under the shade of the rotting oak tree, the hot water heater rusting in the back, all speak to the age of the tin box she calls her home. I never see it as a home; to me it is a house I dread entering. The yard surrounding the trailer holds few memories, as little time is ever spent outside. On four sunken craters on her driveway, an old Ford Taurus sits, slowly seeping into the asphalt from its weight, revealing how little its owner moves.

My hands knuckles were turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. I tried to calm my breathing a little bit because I swear I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

When my parents decided I had become old enough to safely wield a pole with a small but hurtful hooked object on a string, I began fishing. At first I only wanted to fish because I was not allowed to, but after I tried it for the first time I became fascinated with the mechanics. With our small, skinny, breakable-looking poles, we could pull mysterious, flopping beasts out of the water that would otherwise swim beneath the surface, undetectable. During the fall and winter months, my father, my sister, and I would frequently take our fishing poles down to the creek behind our house in hope of catching salmon and any other wondrous kinds of fish that frequented the cool waters.

I frown. He’s lying. Anyone looking at him could tell he isn’t fine, but before I can say anything Adam pushes himself to his feet. When he walks forward, he leans into the wall and lets out a groan.

This was perfect I was at my old high school talking to my crush Lisa Benfield, she was laughing at the funny joke I told her and Jase was their trying hard to get Lisa 's attion but I had it all. I was wearing my varsity jacket with the number one on it and my name as I was walking Lisa to class I saw out the corner of my Jase crying like a little baby and then it happened I was going to ask Lisa to the prom.

"Just give him space maybe later you can talk to him and see what happeneds"I said trying to comfort her .

Often when I think of canyons I think of time being etched into a stone creating deep, intricate gorges. The first time I encountered a picture taken from the inside a canyon, it made me think back to the imagery I would use to describe my own life. A ravine with so many edges and turns that in pieces do not make sense but, when put together create this sort of channel running through the rock. I noticed that without the sun 's rays shining down, the canyon becomes dark, hollow, and full of chaos waiting to happen. However, when the light shines in the ravine there is a rainbow effect running up the rock and all the little etchings adding more glory to the overall masterpiece.

I remember that day when I moved into that town. It was a fresh and clear day. The birds were singing and the sun was shining all over. I had unpacked and had decided to explore around the place. I went through the shops and the park, and there nothing interested me. I don’t know why but, nothing was interesting. I had walked around and I was pretty sure that I had seen something shimmering in the sunlight, but when I looked closer, it was gone. Now, I will tell you how I became this: a ghost.

When I awoke it was dark and cold. Only the stars and moon illuminated through the broken windows of the abandoned building. It was silent except for the sound of the wind and my heartbeat.

One afternoon, I came home, got myself a snack and went to my room. As I entered my room, I noticed Paolo’s bedroom blinds were open. In all the years that have passed by, not once had I ever noticed his blinds open, so in curiosity, I looked in. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of my room, I caught glimpses of movements in the shadows on his bed, until it hit me that he was sliding his hand up and down his cock. He was really taking his time, absorbed in his self-pleasure.

“Ma’am, we’re doing everything we can. Please, remain calm.” The police officer ordered, pushing me back onto the hot, dry cracked desert floor. I struggled against the officer’s force, sending pleas and cries into the empty valley, echoing. And one after another, more police officers swarmed me like moths to a light, tackling me, restraining me against my own will.

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.