Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

“It’s too late.” she replied, “Maybe tomorrow.” This time was different. Freddie didn’t run away again, instead.... he called for Doris. The power shut off at the blink of an eye. I couldn’t see anything, but I could feel things flying across the room. There were voices, but there was so much going on that I couldn’t identify where it was coming from. I ran to the basement to flip the switch, but only the dim lights to the basement came on. I opened my eyes to furniture covered in stark white sheets. I could hear whispering, no it was more like

"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.

After I confessed , I blacked out due to a blow on the head from a short man. The mocking police officers took me into a compact, windowless , musty room that looked like it has been there since the dawn , or maybe even earlier, of time.

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.

Rainbow Dash glanced down at her saddlebag, letting a monotonous sigh as she looked over the bunch of rolled up maps poking out from the sack. With a look of profound determination, she lifted her hoof and knocked on the door.

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.

Sunday morning arrived, two weeks since their grand melee, and Mauricio thought it was appropriate to go home and see how Consuelo was doing again. Hoping he had given her enough time to cool down, there he found her watching Sunday morning news while clipping coupons. He greeted her with a simple, “Hi, Mom! How are you doing?” And, planted a big kiss on her cheek. Consuelo’s silence was his cue that she was still upset with him. Sensing she was still disconcerted he walked right in to his room and picked out clothes and packed a few other personal belongings. He returned to the living room with two large travel bags in hand.

It was 3:27 a.m., and my husband, just pulled into our driveway. He manages a popular restaurant in D.C. and had just worked his usual 12-hour shift and was exhausted and only thinking about climbing into bed to sleep the sleep of the dead for a peaceful 3 hours until our 3 year old son rose with the sun and snuck into our room. So he walked out of the car and locked the door and walked the 15-20 steps to our front door. As he stepped inside, he quickly yet gently shut the front door behind him as he could hear a loud truck racing down the street towards our direction and didn’t want the loud engine to wake up everyone (myself and our 2 young children) who were fast asleep inside. Then there was a loud crash, and the pickup truck’s engine raced away. I awoke in bed from the noise of the collision but at the same time heard our front door open/close so I knew he was home safe and I allowed myself to fall back asleep.

Once I had closed the door after them we stood in silence, staring at the worn blue of the floor beneath our feet. There was nothing we could do or say to make this less uncomfortable. There was something unfathomable sneaking between all three of us and we knew it without speaking. If any of us were taken away then that meant we were hiding something from even our own family, and in our society that wasn’t well tolerated. Then again, if you came out as an oddity that could make a person’s blood boil just by looking at them then you had a tendency to fear those around you. I didn’t want anyone to be afraid of me, but I also couldn’t keep it from creeping into their psyche once the truth was laid bare for everyone to see. It would break my

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.

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.

As I opened my eyes I saw nothing but darkness. It surrounded me, comforted me, and urged me to go back to sleep. Then, I heard my Dad’s voice cutting through the pitch black. “Are you still going?” he asked. I rolled over and let out a sleepy moan. He asked again, “Do you still want to go?” I nodded my head and attempted to arouse my brain. “Alright, if you are sure you want to.” he mumbled apprehensively as he walked out of my room. I closed my eyes and began to drift back to sleep. I caught myself drifting and threw off the mountain of covers I was buried under. The cool air of my room hit me and woke me instantly. My feet hit the ice cold floor and goose bumps appeared instantly on my skin. It was 5:00 a.m. on December

Sometimes the end is closer than you could ever imagine. I never knew that it was my last day; nobody did. If they knew, maybe they would have treated me differently, but they can’t change that now. I’m dead.

The smell of freshly cut grass enveloped my nose as I enduringly waited for Nicholas outside of the apartment building, at the same time struggling to hamper down the brim of my attire.