Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

Many people often debate over the legitimacy over capital punishment, whether or not a person can receive the death penalty as a punishment if he or she commits an act of murder. Some argue that the death penalty is a justly act against dangerous criminals while others argue that the penalty is immoral, playing the role of God, and does not even lower the crime rate one bit. In fact, the death penalty is a severe punishment with some negative outcomes at times, but overall, it was placed in this world to serve the sole purpose of protecting our people from violent and dangerous deviants. When used properly, just for cases in which the murder or crime was so heinous, justice is being served for the

Before providing context into the history of social equity in public administration and a discussion of the major challenges that confront public administrators in the delivery of equitable public services. It is important to know how this study defines social equity and public services. The definition of social equity is taken from NAPA and is defined as “The fair, just, and equitable [emphasis added] management of all institutions serving the public directly or by contract; and the fair and equitable distribution of public services, and implementation of public policy; and the commitment to promote fairness, justice, and equity [emphasis added] in the formation of public policy” (as cited in Norman-Major, 2011, p. 237). Public services are

Taken, stolen, kidnapped. All words for the situation I am in. I was taken from my home 2 days ago. I woke up in a trunk confused and had a hard time breathing. I could hear noises from all around and I was scared. I was so hot and I was positive that I had been sweating through all of my clothes. The next thing I heard was terrifying, somebody was trying to get into the trunk. I could hear whoever it was grunting, it appeared that they were struggling. Maybe they didn’t have a key? Once the man had opened the trunk I just laid there. There was nothing I could do. I was weak and tired, so I didn’t want to fight back.

Choking back the hot burning tears her skinny legs splayed on the cool bathroom tile. Black streams coating her soft innocent cheeks, raking her bony fingers through the tangled knots in her black curled hair. Her pale skin scarred with the red marks from his hands, forever touching her once pure skin. Her thoughts bubbling up in bursts of fiery anger, words spewing from her sweet pink lips. Memories flooding her senses, flashbacks clouding her judgment. His words forever branded into her mind, his threats chaining her to the bathroom floor. Hidden, her internal suffering hidden from the world. His words, clothed her pain like a muzzle. Silencing her cries for help. Her malady hidden behind her long hair and quiet demeanor. His choice, her consequence.

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

“Great. So excited.” I speak my words slowly to emphasize sarcasm. My mom gives me her signature “don’t-give-me-that-attitude-or-there-will-be-consequences” look, one that I have received too many times during our lengthy trip from the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris.

Beep! Beep! Beep! Five thirty, blared the most grotesque thing known to man. Slow to rise out of the comfort of my throne, only to stumble into those dirty cold clothes I had been wearing for the previous three weeks. Nearly falling up stairs to find what left-overs were in the fridge. Disappointed, as last night my mother must have been on a cleaning frenzy. The dishes done, tables wiped down, and the fridge picked clean like a vulture scavenged a decaying rabbit in the desert. I guess a Gogurt would have to suffice this morning. Closing the freezer, the light of the oven was on. And then, as if a being hit by a falling boulder, Pizza! Oh the Gods above must have been watching out for me; there were three slices of peperoni pizza left in the box. Five minutes later, with a full stomach, I was out the door and on my way to the most delightful place on the face of planet earth.

I frown. He’s lying. Anyone looking at him could tell he isn’t fine, but before I can say anything Adam pushes himself to his feet. When he walks forward, he leans into the wall and lets out a groan.

I lie restlessly on the steel framed bed in the Orange County Jail. I don 't regret my decision to kill off Boddy. The only thing I do regret is not doing it sooner. I pulled off the bandana that was lied around my strawberry-blonde hair. It was mopped in sweat. The summer days in Florida were hot and muggy. I felt trapped in the ugly orange outfit the guards gave the inmates to wear. They shouldn 't treat me like this, I 'm a very rich lady you know.

I don’t know how I got to where I am, but I’m here now, and I have to win if I want to live. I am in a game, and in order to live, I have to escape. That’s the thing, though: I don’t know how to escape. I was running for my life around this old house that looked like it came straight out of a horror movie. I doubled over and held my head in pain as I saw the static, which meant it was coming. I was being chased by what looked like a person but in no way acted like one. Just as it was about to appear, I saw a box underneath a table, in a room that looked like the living room. I quickly grabbed the box and, as it appeared, I slammed my fist down on the button on top of the box. As a large plume of smoke erupted from the box, I figured I had a chance to run. I took this chance to run back to where my friends were, though when I got there, all that happened was my friends and I crouching over in pain, holding our heads again. This time there wasn’t anything I could use to escape. Now I was curled up on the floor waiting for this thing to eat me, as it was kneeling over my trembling body. I saw a glowing green necklace around his neck , and I thought that this was my ticket to escape. I grabbed the necklace, brought my leg up and kicked it’s torso as hard as I could. I held the necklace, grabbed my friends and somehow teleported out and back to the military base where we worked.

“I was thinking we could go out to The Grand tonight for dinner then stay at the boat,” Jamison suggested over the phone.

The word lost was becoming more operative by the moment. The morning 's ice fishing over at nearby North Pond had been fine. After I ate my fish cakes back in my cabin at Mohawk Mountain, heat radiating from the wood stove, I 'd felt warm enough to peel down to a t-shirt and read. That was this morning.

This was perfect I was at my old high school talking to my crush Lisa Benfield, she was laughing at the funny joke I told her and Jase was their trying hard to get Lisa 's attion but I had it all. I was wearing my varsity jacket with the number one on it and my name as I was walking Lisa to class I saw out the corner of my Jase crying like a little baby and then it happened I was going to ask Lisa to the prom.

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.

My hands knuckles were turning white as I gripped the steering wheel. I tried to calm my breathing a little bit because I swear I was on the verge of hyperventilating.