Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

Vehemently, I threw my myself on the bed, covered my head with pillows and screamed in pain and agony.Like a pack of wild, hungry ferocious wolves, the thoughts began to commence and every second they got louder. Like paws,every sentence clawed at my brain,every thought pierced my mind in agony,and my body began to shake. The shivers started from the tip of my fingers and cascaded straight down my gut, my body shook, and I screamed

“I really like what you’ve done to your hair.” His figures run through my short still black hair and then down the side of my face. A smug smirk on his face the entire time.

I don’t remember waking up. I’m just wake, staring at the stained ceiling in my bed. I blink, realizing I’m awake and instantly regret as a headache throbs through my ears. It’s doesn’t hurt as much as before. I moan, as I stir. My entire body feels as if it’s been lying in bed for days. Maybe it has been days?

Outside of my will, an officer escorted me out of the main cell area and back into the lobby. Then, closing the door, I wasn 't able to get back into the main facility. I knocked on the door, but the officer walked back away. Growling, I turned around and rubbed my temples with my palms.

I moved to Waterford, Connecticut in my middle of second year of high school. When I went to Waterford first time, I didn’t like it. Actually I felt miserable, because I wasn’t happy that I moved to Waterford. As soon as when I got there I missed all of my friends. I don’t remember exact dates, but I know it was winter, cold. I think unhappiness made me feel colder. Waterford looks like the old country. There was few houses in a street. Our new house was one of it. The house surrounded by some trees, a huge yard, and a stream. I thought I am living in a forest. As soon as when we moved to Waterford, my father had to go back to Korea for his work. It was our first time that we live separately. I had about a month off from the school because one of the paper didn’t go through. I didn’t know anyone in there, didn’t know what I can do, or what’s where. Afraid to be outside, and being not happy about living in Waterford didn’t makes me to do something. I just stayed in the house. Staying in the house wasn’t fun either. My father is gone. My mom started to work in her new job. My brother was busy to play online computer game with his friends. I think living in a house for a month without seeing anyone, and stay home felt loneliness was the very beginning of the depression start.

Without another moment of thought, I decided to pop one of the pure pills into my mouth and down the thing with a swig of rum. I could taste the white tablets gruesome effects on the tip of my tongue. The sensation was almost like dancing, I was happy, and the thought of everyone else disappeared from my mind. My mind clouded over after I started blaring music to compete with the jitters I needed to let out. The song that came on didn’t matter, because I was lost in the music of my own heartbeat. Rhythm got faster, the bass pounded, and something else in the background was banging too. Maybe it was the door, but I didn’t care.

Imagine: It’s the weekend and you’ve decided to have a get-away with your friends. The winters have never really seemed to phased you, though this one seems to be much colder than usual. You invite everyone up to your family’s cabin up in the remote woods on Blackwood Mountain, a snow-covered mount of rocks in western Canada. Everyone is together, but as the night progresses you have a sense of someone watching you through the windows of the cabin. You’re excited for the night because your crush accepted your invitation to come along. To your surprise, your crush invites you to a bedroom but once you arrive you realize it was all a prank when you hear the laughter and your friends coming out filming the entire occurrence. You’re humiliated. You run and run fast, past the kitchen, out the front door and into the blistering cold. Your heart is pounding loud in your ears and the tears are beginning to hit the cold air, causing your cheeks to tingle. It’s dark, and you begin to lose track of where you are. The woods have a tendency of doing such. You hear noises and you realize you’re being followed. Running with all of the power you can muster, you hit the edge of a cliff with nowhere to go. The thing chasing you is now drawing near. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. You feel the rock underneath your feet slip and you begin to fall. The cold air is rushing by you as you plummet, in a quick fleet of

It is on days like this when we stop to think about our life. Small drops of rain begin to dapple the cobblestone pavement as people whip out their umbrellas for cover. I continue sauntering down the busy street, relishing the feeling of a light shower. Moving with the mass of pedestrians, I stop at a crosswalk where I wait for the stoplight to turn green. A flower shop employee across the street scurries to bring in the numerous bouquets and close the doors as rain starts rolling down the display window, leaving some forgotten decorative balloons to bounce around under the rain.

His fingers flowed across the piano keys like a ballerina, so elegant and graceful. His gaze was lowered to where his hands spun the melodic notes and I could make out the dark, black lashes on his eyes lined perfectly with one another. He appeared calm, serene, at peace. No frown marked his forehead, no desire tugged at his lips. He was simply sat at the back of the common room, slipped into his own world of beautiful music.

bbI walked down to the beach by myself along side of a desolate road. The wind tossed the palm trees and my long hair in every direction. The sun was setting and the sky turned sort of a pink and lavender color which reminded me of my mother. Pebbles on the ground tickled the bottoms of my bare feet as I pondered about her. How her favorite color was lavender, how her hair always smelled like the pink tropical flowers in our front yard, how she always smiled and appreciated the rain for its beauty (even if it meant we couldn’t go surfing), she had dark olive skin with freckles across her nose and top of her cheekbones. Green eyes and a beautiful wide smile that always appeared to be on her face even when times were rough. I didn’t really look my mom, I had freckles like her but my face structure was totally different. Actually I looked like no one in my family. In fact, at family gatherings and reunions I was often asked if I was a good family friend. Even if people thought I looked a little bit like my mom (because of the freckles) they wouldn’t tell me because they were constantly trying to avoid an awkward conversation.

Obediently, Blondie increased his speed and – I noticed – his pleasure. His mouth was opening soundlessly now, another sign of his enjoyment I knew so well. He was breathing heavily too. Felatina kept him rowing and rowing, to the point where I thought he was going to spray his love juice. However, the potion was working well and although he showed all the physical signs of being close to orgasm, the actual event was not happening. I smiled at Marianna as we giggled about what kind of sensation that must be for a man.

It was Halloween and, being the super mature teenager that I was, I went trick-or-treating. Going house to house and getting practically thrown at with candy just seemed entirely worth it. Considering I was 5,3, I wasn 't surprised that I could pull off being a 12-year-old for one night without calling attention to myself.

Out of all the years of being Equestria’s ruler, never once did I ever think to be dethroned and beytrayed by my subjects, loyalists, and mistress. I couldn’t blame them, though, as I had failed to do what I had sworn to do: Protect my kingdom and bestow the essentials ponies needed; and besides the Flim and Falm Corp were able to do that better than I ever could. When I got insuborinated and removed from my castle, a sign that read “No Former Princess Celestia allowed here” was placed on the front.

Okay, for you to understand this, I’m going to have to give you the names of all the people I’ll be talking about. Mum’s name is Ivana, Ivana Twydell. My sister is Meg, her boyfriend called himself Kole but I first knew him as Mr. Dunport - Declan Dunport . . .

A sharp jolt in my side wakes me. I slowly open my eyes and see an unfamiliar face. I glance around, searching for something familiar about this room. The room is dark; the only light is coming from up an open door up a staircase. I try to move, but my hands are zip tied behind my back. My head feels fuzzy and it hurts when I move. Suddenly, all the memories from the night before rush back to me.