Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

Momma smiled. She just so happens to ask this question every time. I feel like I have this connection with momma, that none of my brothers and sisters have. Momma fell asleep. Beat Beat I couldn’t hear anything but our hearts. Then it went silent. I got knocked out of my day dream. I looked at the monitor it wasn’t going up and down anymore. It stopped. I yelled “Nurse! Nurse!” three nurses came running in. They stopped dead in their tracks. Momma’s doctor came in.

"Olivia!" A shout rang through the house. It was a bright morning, the smell of autumn and school in the air as the morning of the first day of school began. Olivia happily sat up in her bed as soon as she heard her mother calling from down stairs. She hadn 't slept a wink the night before from complete excitement. Her first day of high school had come and she couldn 't wait to get it started. "Olivia!" The call came again, "Get up to get ready for school!" Her mother downstairs said as she began making a nice breakfast.

“This is for you.” I look at Dialah. She shrugs. The familiar orange juice in a glass is placed in front of me.

His name was Cwedolscead. He had not chosen the name and he was not aware of who it might have been who gave him the name. But he cursed them to the rankest, most festering depths of hell, which no doubt, was where they resided anyway. The name was not assigned at his birth, when the first haze of his dark nascent energy belched forth from the blackest hearts of humanity, but came later, the word spewing unbidden from the nadir of damnation, floating on the stench of brimstone to swaddle itself around him, as his disparate strands coalesced into a conscious, if formless being.

I turned around and faced him, his silver eyes locked with mine he lifted his hand and brushed strands of my wet hair away from my face. “I love you.” I whispered.

chair. I make my way to my room and I grab the picture frame that I placed on my night stand.

“Hey dad can I ride my bike to Audra’s a house to see if hangout today?”, I asked my dad.

Calliope sat straight up in a cold sweat her shoulder length hair cling to her head, she panted eyes wide in panic. Her hands clasped over her mouth stifling a scream. Calming down from her momentary hysteria and with a deep breath she examine her surrounding pristine blue above her, deep green grass a long with some wild flowers swayed around her. Standing up on wobbly legs she tried to remember where she was but, her mind drawing a blank on anything beyond her name. Walking down a small slope she saw clear body of water.

Most of the time August in Maine is hot, sticky hot. The kind of hot where as much as you don’t want to you break down and turn the air conditioning on. This mid-August day is the exception. The day before, it rained just enough to break the heat but not enough to make it humid and unbearable. The result is a cool breeze of morning air that comes in through my window and dances delicately with the lace curtains and soft golden rays of the waking sun just beginning to fill my room.

Occasionally, I would go on a shopping trip with my Grandma. If I was granted to go you could find my undersized, dainty arms encased around her legs, imploring for a new knickknack, candy, or some sort of other weird thing I would just have to have. We always had the best talkfest when we were by ourselves shopping, we never would worry about a baby sorrowing, my aunt taunting me, or me not feeling I am not getting the attention I felt I deserved. I initiated conversation about her days she uses to go enjoy concerts. After she recalled her

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.

Wednesday, 4:00 P.M. … A meeting ended as I consciously took note of my hesitant footsteps towards my locker and reached the lock. Right....left...right. While holding the cold, metallic handle, I could feel the developed callus thickening on my thin index finger as I pulled it up. Click. I slowly bent down toward the floor and stored my pile of textbooks and binders into a dull green schoolbag. My habitual movements seemed like those of a robot, an automaton with no sense of its surroundings. When I slammed my locker, it produced a forceful, clanky sound as it permeated across the hall of Moore High School.

I stared down from the tower I stood upon wondering how someone could build something so tall. It wasn’t as tall as a skyscraper. Although when you’re looking straight down, it seems like a much further drop. I stood there heaving every breath, until from behind me I heard a deep growl. When I turned around, I saw a herd of monsters surrounding me. I would say they looked a bit like really ugly boar about the size of cattle. Except they had black hair and dark yellow eyes. I was at the edge of building now, and if I backed away any further to get away from Them I would fall to my immediate death. When they started edging closer to me, I realize I had no choice and I step off.

A warm ray of light, shining past sheer white curtains, hit the face of a heavy-eyed Colonial man. Now awake, he swiftly exchanged his over-worn Bayan for his usual trousers and top coat before heading out to town. Grabbing a small loaf of bread, he walked past the wooden entrance to his home and started his path to work. As he scuffled his feet along the dirt road, a thought started creeping from the back of his mind. As the memory came to be clear, a sensation of panic consumed his body which led to his stomach dropping and a cold sweat rushing through his very core. Face flushed and clammy palms, he recalled his Colonial wife aggressively demanding meat for the table this week. “As the wife of a Banqueter, I expect to have a proper