Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

My heart hammers in my chest so hard I swear my rib cage could split in two. Sweat dribbles down my forehead as I replay the realistic nightmare I had just moments before of the man watching me from my bedroom window. In my dreams, he follows me on my walks home without my knowledge and stalks me at night. He's dangerous, wanted and psychotic. His pleasure comes from my distress and paranoia. Just thinking of the hyper realistic dream sends chills down my spine and twist knots in my stomach. I take my glasses off, rub my forehead, and get up to get a glass of water from the kitchen. “So much for a good night sleep,” I think as I turn the cold water on and fill the Mt. Rushmore glass I used at dinner. I pick up my backpack tossed in the foyer and drag it to my room. I might as well get something done now that I'm up. I scroll through my phone on my way back to my bedroom and bump the door open with my hip since my hands are full. That's when I see it. I drop my phone and glass of water on my bedroom floor. I feel my limbs go numb and my mouth go dry. Through my sheer curtains I see the outline of

In the morning, Caireann woke me up. She stood above my bed, shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes, looking at her. Then I looked across the room to her empty bed. Andy 's empty bed sat in the corner. I swallowed, climbing out of bed.

“This is stupid,” Rafael groans as he and Sonny enters the changing area of a department store

"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.

The echoing crack of gunfire signaled the start of the day. Each one rippled across the landscape; skimming the pale switchgrass fields before echoing among the woods beyond. Some were alone, like a whip or an old truck backfiring. Others came in succession with one following the other three or four times until whatever was on the other end of the barrel had either escaped or was dead.

It 's early November, the brown leaves from the trees above are covering the sidewalk.

Some people say that you are born the way that you are. Others claim that it is all reliant on how you were raised. The problem with that is my dads were the most amazing and normal people you could ever dream of. Every Saturday night, we would go to my aunts ' house to have dinner. My older brother would hang out with my cousins, but I didn 't feel like I belonged there. They would only talk about boys. For some reason, I just didn 't agree with how they think that boys are hot.

“Jordyn get up,” yelled my mom. I rolled over to my side and groaned at the sight that it was only eight o’clock. But then I remembered that my cousins were coming to my grandparent’s green and white house this weekend.

The volatile smell of coolant and gasoline assaulted my nose as I took in the chaos around me; metallic taste hanging in the air. The metal groaned as the car settled into its mangled state. I watched as my parents ran over to the vehicle. I stepped out of the backseat, my seven-year-old body trembling. My mother yelled over her shoulder, “Kaydie! I need you to come over here right now!” I ran over to my mother as she pulled the back door open revealing a sobbing 4-year-old girl. “Kaydie, this little girl is very scared and we need to help her parents. Can you sit with her?” I crawled up into the back seat, next to the little girl. She looked at me with terrified eyes, “Where is my mommy and daddy?” I took her hand and told her she was going to be ok and that my mommy and daddy were with hers. We sat there, hand in hand, as I told her a story about a little girl riding a unicorn while I watched my parents helping hers.

My bare feet crossed over the double yellow lines of the busy road that divided the parking lot and the bay as I carried my flip-flops in one hand and my phone in the other. The burning sun directed its rays towards my shoulders and I could feel my skin getting hotter by the second. I watched as my family and neighbors began crossing the rickety bridge that led to the dock and just as it had in the car, my mind began to race. I couldn’t help but think of all the shark attacks that had occurred in South Carolina this summer and I avoided going in the ocean the whole vacation because of that. I am absolutely terrified of sharks.

Colors are flashing. Faint sounds fill the air. Everything’s a blur, like it’s being swept up by the wind. I try to find my footing and stand up, but I just fall back down again. I try to grasp onto my last memories, searching for answers. The only memory I find is my name. Shailene Fonder.

Time is indecisive. It’s either with you or against you. What I’ve noticed is whenever you’re

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.

The surrounding area grew darker as I traversed farther into the forest. Erie howls echoed from my destination and they grew slowly closer as I continued on my well traversed route. The woods really were beautiful, with its thick canopy allowing a censored light through the branches. The sounds of nature all around, the rustling of branches and calls of birds. The flowing of a near stream, the crunch of leaves beneath my feet.

Several minutes went on before I silently started to lift my head slowly in shame. My thoughts became distracted by a broken mirror which hung crookedly on the wall. The shattered fragments of glass weren’t enough to hide the horrifying scars and dark bruises which mysteriously appeared on my face. I stared at the mirror in fear. A reflection that stared back at me had blood shot red eyes and a skin colour which blended with its dark blue football guernsey. I could feel my chest starting to burn the moment I saw that the reflection was actually me.