Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

His palm imprinted through layers of my skirt and lace panties onto my arse cheek.

Outside of my will, an officer escorted me out of the main cell area and back into the lobby. Then, closing the door, I wasn 't able to get back into the main facility. I knocked on the door, but the officer walked back away. Growling, I turned around and rubbed my temples with my palms.

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.

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.

“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.

“No Jamie, I told you before and I will tell you again, we are not going swimming in the ocean. It’s too dangerous with all of the shark spottings from only a mile away from shore.”

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

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

Out of all the years of being Equestria’s ruler, never once did I ever think to be dethroned and beytrayed by my subjects, loyalists, and mistress. I couldn’t blame them, though, as I had failed to do what I had sworn to do: Protect my kingdom and bestow the essentials ponies needed; and besides the Flim and Falm Corp were able to do that better than I ever could. When I got insuborinated and removed from my castle, a sign that read “No Former Princess Celestia allowed here” was placed on the front.

A few days later I get a call from my mom while I write out notes to a song under the tree. I haven’t spoken to my mom since he left. I haven’t spoken much to anyone, really.

The cool dampness from the morning dew caused my feet to itch. This particular morning was chilly and damp. I love to go to yard sales with my mom, but at 6:00 am. Really? “Oh my goodness, look at this,” said my mom. She had located a goat. Yes a goat. Not the live, breathing kind, but the stuffed cute kind. He wore a small black and white striped outfit and the tiniest red bandana. His wire rimmed spectacles set off huge eyes which were topped off by large curling horns. All in all he was about 8 inches tall. He held a small sign that said “Old Goat” in black writing.

I walked into the house and dropped my book bag on the floor. It made a loud thud against the wood floors. I stood for a moment before taking off my jacket. If Locke had been home, he would have come running and asked what that sound was. Instead, the house was silent. I removed my jacket and hung it up, letting out a sigh. Feeling at ease, I walked into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich.

After close to three hours on the road, we pulled up in front of a beautiful old mansion that had been converted into a luxury hotel. It had a beautiful view, right on the shores of the Beauly Firth. The grounds were impressive. We’d made it in time for the complimentary coffee and shortbread. The piping hot coffee and the shortbread were just what I needed to hold me over until the dinner hour.

Death. Traumatizing. Scarred for life. Charlie… It started off as a great day, the end of our extraordinary R.V. trip in Utah. We were about to go white water rafting, I’m just going to say what is about to happen, I never expected I would have to experience in my life. Nevertheless it happened to me when I was 10.

It was 2:30 in The morning. And mum always used to say nothing good ever happens after two in the morning. I should have listened. Anyway, I stood on the corner of Vernon and 25th street, on a rainy night in London. When standing there, I suddenly became suspicious of my surroundings. A man figure dressed in black passed by without a word. He dropped a pale, beige journal. When I realized it had fallen, I gathered up the broken, fallen pages upon the ground. As I looked up to see where the mysterious man had gone, I found myself standing alone as I did before.