Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

Santa Clause leaned his head against the sled, letting out a long sigh. It had been a tough evening so far. The northern hemisphere was down, but he still had one more hemisphere to go, and he had no idea what might be in store for him there. Santa’s thoughts ran to-and-fro from what if I never reach all the kids on time or what if the kids begin to lose faith in me? So, he quickly picked up his reins and gave them a slap, “whoop, whoop,” he called out to his reindeers, but exhaustion was creeping in. He noticed the fluffy clouds taking the forms of little children and candy canes, train sets, and teddy bears. His eyelids grew too heavy to keep them open, and his head dropped to one side. Santa fell into a deep slumber…

"Wake up Abby, it 's time to go to school!" my little sister Natalie whispered as she poked me. Leaves were blowing against my window, making a pitter patter sound that made me smile. I loved that fall breeze. It was another miserable, chilly Monday, to bad Autumn was coming to an end. I looked up at Natalie with her gigantic grin, and her gaze on me she never let go of.

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.

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...

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.

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.

Swing. My overly excited mother pried the drawn curtains open, sunlight flooding in through the glass. My eyelids fluttered at the bright, beaming light streaming in through the window. I gazed out, only to be met with vast, barren land. I sighed in boredom. God, I hoped South Australia was better than this. The busload was teeming with noise, buzzing with energy. The variation of languages seemed to combine together in one sound of gibberish, the cacophonous chattering of excited tourists made my head throb. The smell of nauseating, cheesy potato chips combined with the gritty smell of exhaust fumes laced the air. I closed my eyes, the warmth of the sun engulfing me in its kind embrace. As I slowly fell into a deep sleep, I thought about my adventures to come. School was out, and I was free, and I couldn’t wait to get away from it all.

I wake. Cold. Alone. Confused. I am surrounded with a lot of nothing. Harshness is all around me. I can feel tears that are now dried to my face. I am not sure why I was crying, but I know that something is not right. I don’t know where I am, but my best assumption would be jail. By the looks of it, I’m a prisoner. My arms crossed over my chest like a mummy would be. They are secured down with rigidity leather belts. I can’t take a deep breath without being restricted by the belts that hold me down. My legs are cramping and all I want to do is stretch them out, but the belts restrict any movements.

There are times when people come across an object that holds a sentimental value and want to keep it close to their heart or in other instances, store it somewhere safe. Though my possession isn 't exactly an object you can hold or put away for safekeeping, but rather a place that allows family and friends to gather and dwell upon its most glorious days. A place everyone is perpetually invited and accepted for who they are. This home, I gratefully inherited from my grandparents, has become a shelter for those those in need, serves as a financial asset, and offers fond memories.

I remember that day when I loved 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.

I grabbed his arm and pulled it to mine "And if you love me the way i love you you 'll stay here......" he shook his head and i felt him brush my hair from my face "Tk.........let me go..." it wasn 't an angry let me go it was I 'm sorry but you have let me go "No... If you want to go take me with you." im crazy i thought as i looked up at him. More tears fell from his face. He cried beautifully without the ugly puffed lips and blotchy skin but just tears. Glassy eyes with tears of fire and ice it seemed the way the light hit them. Tears that fell onto his skin, perfectly tan and strangely nice against the almost redness of his hair. I hated to think so but he was amazing in the dull 4am light. The moon hit his face just enough to make him look like artwork. Art that somehow is beautiful but also makes you think. He took my arm and rolled up my sleeve. " Look at you......" he traced the endless scars on my arm, not all self inflicted but all with a reason,all with a meaning. I wiped my eyes even though no tears were there. "Scars and cigarette burns......just another page in my story." he pulled off his hoodie and i saw his arms. Burn marks. "From the fire...most of them....." he breathed, painfully. "From the past." i traced a few of the scars on my arms with his finger. "From my father and other horrible people." i traced more scars and shivered as i did. I traced the long scar from rist to elbow and felt him quake. "From me." i traced the last scars remaining. "And thats

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.

“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.