What Does It Mean To You Essay

I gasped for air as I turned the corner on Stanford Street and passed Stony Brook Elementary School. Eight miles. I exerted all the energy left in my body to run up my not-so-steep driveway. My fingers and toes shivered as pins and needles rushed through my body, even though the summer humidity had just arrived for the season. As I reached the top of my driveway, I stumbled into my house. I gripped every object in my path. I knew my muscles had been eating themselves away, as grasping onto the smooth, granite edges of the counter to keep myself stable took my entire body’s corporation. My deteriorating muscles clenched as my powerless strength pushed myself up to stand alongside the counter in the middle of the kitchen. I think I may pass out, again. I held onto the counter as if I held on for my life. I closed my thick eyelids and patiently waited until the feeling past— it always did.

I can hear the White Rabbit 's watch tocking and ticking yet I don 't see him. He is late again. I might just fire him or water him, however, that phrase goes. I let my devious grin emerge from the dust to see him in the dark dry woods, he doesn 't see me but I see him in his half ironed quarter buttoned shirt. I am not a bad kitty, I simply don’t play nice with the kittens.

He slightly raised a finger. His eyes opened again and I saw small tears escape the corners of his eyes. My own tears fell out of control. I didn't want to see another death.

His face of earlier is a distant memory, gone is the childlike wonder in his eyes. I see nothing, but rolled back white irises. That hold nothing, least of all love for me

“I made a mistake baby, you know I’m not perfect. Don’t let that hoe get between us. I still need you.” He confesses. My heart jumps the moment he says this. He still need me?

Everyone says things come and go so don't stress so much about what you can't control.

I tried moving my legs, but they wouldn’t like I wanted them to. I looked down and sighed, seeing that they were restrained with rope around my ankles. I squinted to see if I could make out anything sharp within my vicinity, but the place was completely empty. Was screaming worth it? My attacker couldn’t have been too far away. I didn’t want to piss them off any more than they surely were. Still, staying how I was didn’t seem right, either. How was I supposed to escape with nothing?

"Morganne is there anything I can do for you. Just tell me what you want." Jacob said in a soft voice. I look at him straight in the eye. Tears still flowing down my cheeks..

Feeling dizzy and mildly disorientated, I push off from the wall, tapping into a distinct, burning well of willpower that sits inside my chest, a psychological centre of gravity, in order to not collapse where I stood. My limbs burn. This is involuntary. Probably trauma, I reasoned a long time ago. Probably a mental trigger. That doesn’t stop me from feeling frustrated, smolderingly exasperated, a tearing feeling that makes my jaw twitch and my hands cry out for blood, that there is a switch in my mind that I cannot control.

One day, I had a headache. I thought that was just a headache, which is a normal thing could happen in life. It wasn’t. It was constant headaches, every single nights. It was like my head is booming, the

Scuffling just out of sight, the creature sniffed the air and reared it 's head. It caught her scent. It 's leathery black skin made it easier to disappear into the shadows of the forest they were in. The people it was hunting had no such talent.

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.

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.

Careful not to make a noise, though it wouldn’t matter if I did, I crept over to my victim sprawled across the floor. One, two, three. I pounded a nail into my target’s head. The satisfying crack of the skull filled the room. Around me, a pool of blood began to form. Trapping, encasing, stopping me from moving. The thick liquid moved with a purpose, though I doubt it knew what that was. Slowly, then all at once, the color drained from his face, like watching the credits of a movie fade into the screen. Gone. Until next time, but, unlike a movie, he didn’t have a next time. Sirens wailed in the distance. They’d be here soon, but it didn’t matter. They were always a couple seconds behind me and that’s all the time I needed to escape.

After calling and asking if her grandfather would mind some company, Melanie showered and changed her clothes. She wanted to look nice and presentable and not dust covered from being in the apartment that had been locked up for over a couple of weeks. Being dropped off at the cottage in Homewood, she climbed the stairs and knocked on the door.