Descriptive Research Essay

Texas in the summer is blistering hot. Even in the morning at 10:07 a.m., there is heat foretelling the weather for the rest of the day: hot, hot, and more hot. Thankfully, Mother Nature is not completely unsympathetic; she provides a nice breeze, but it is never constant. However, it is welcome nonetheless. So here I sit, on an uncomfortable bench in front of the local HEB on a Saturday morning. There are no grand events, it seems a typical morning for the small town of Gatesville. I chose this places because my mother had some biweekly grocery shopping to do, and I thought it was the perfect place to observe the general public.

There he was, walking into my fourth period class with a smirk on his face, and an outfit that screamed that he was cowboy. I, for one was not the type of girl to fall head over heels for a guy, but something about him stood out from the rest of the male population of the school. He seemed like the respectable type one could take home to their parents without them disapproving. His looks took hold of me and held me as if the image of his visage could never be erased from my mind. Never have I seen a more perfect person in my entire existence.

Allison Argent was a tall and beautiful person with dark brown curly hair, brown eyes, and deep dimples. She woke up and got ready and left for school like there was no way anything could go wrong, she met up with Scott her first love, he was co-captain of the lacrosse team. He was tall, had a slightly uneven jawline, and cute brown eyes. Stiles was a very sarcastic and funny person. He was tall and skinny, had brown eyes and pale skin. Lydia, Allison’s best friend was a light ginger haired girl with green eyes and the smartest person in school.

The sound of car horns honking, trains whistling, and the sudden halt of our car in reaching traffic caused me to wake abruptly. “Welcome to the Bronx” read the overhead sign; a jolt of excitement ran through my body as we were approaching the Stadium. I then realized that I was going to witness the iconic Derek Jeter complete his final season. Childhood memories were reappearing as the loud mouthed New Yorkers Hollered and polluted fumes were settling. Bronx, New York is truly a place one needs to visit. After paying for an overpriced parking spot, we began our five block hike to Yankee Stadium. The hectic sidewalks were as gum filled as my high school desks along with promoters harassing pedestrians. It seemed as though no one got along outside of Yankee Stadium, aggressive expressions overtook the streets. Whether is was the ticket sharks, homeless looking for change, or cars looking to switch lanes, the chaos was all around.

Toshaina has the biggest heart, she would hand it away to anyone who inquired. Moreover, she is generous, patient and possesses a magnificent sense of humor. She constantly reminds me of sunflowers, she can brighten up anybody’s day by simply speaking to them. Her power to continue strong in whatever situation is mind blowing. Her biggest motto was too always “be better than me” I would think to myself “how when you’re already so freaking great” but she assured me that she’s not and wasn’t at my years. She invariably delivered on a fresh pair of Jordan’s and polo outfit she felt like you couldn’t wear one without the other. The color she wore the most was yellow, being born a Jamaican she always enjoyed the color since birth.

The school was indeed an escape, and I had thanked god privately for Brendon Larson. I remember his personality vividly; his light humor and big glasses curved my lips for nearly the whole class. Especially anatomy and pathology, who knew the dull human body, could be so funny. He was generous with his happiness and sprayed a thin layer of hope on all of us from the front of the room. I used his humor as an anesthetic from the spiritual growing pains I was encountering.

Jamaica. A country roaring with culture and beauty, just as I had imagined. Water as clear as glass and a jungle that touched the sky. Locals singing and dancing everywhere I looked. In awe of my surroundings I stood, not knowing that the next turn I’d make would shatter the perfect image I’d built, and change my perspective completely.

I wake up to the hot summer breeze blowing through my window. The sound of fans blazing is a pleasant comfort and I turn myself to face the hot white sun. For a moment I consider pulling the heavy black covers back over myself and ignore the fact that the day has already begun. But a reminder I have the day to myself pulls me out of bed. I drag my feet across the soft carpet and ideas for the day flood my mind. I catch myself in the mirror with a small smirk on my face, deep chocolate hair pulled loosely up and I decide today will be good. I open the door to my bedroom, leading to a dark wood staircase.

Everyone is born with something called a soulmark; a special identifying mark, that leads a person to their soulmate, their perfect match. Most people find their soulmate before they’re eighteen. And that’s what terrifies me. I’m Shoyou Hinata and almost eighteen years old. My parents found each other with timers, that counted down to when they would meet, when they were ten years old. All of my friends found their soulmates in elementary and middle school. The only person I know who hasn’t met their soulmate yet, is me.

I sat in the ivory colored sand by the beach. I felt my toes sink and wiggle in the wet sand. The crystal blue water washed over my toes. It was a beautiful sunny day with a gentle breeze. Waves were crashing on the rocks, and the sun made the ocean glitter as if someone poured a bucket of sparkles into the water. You could hear the distant calls of seagulls every now and then. Obsidian colored cliffs were so high that they looked as if they were going to touch the pale blue sky. I felt something brush up against my ankles as a small tide came in. I looked down to see what the ocean brought to me. It was a green glass bottle and inside was some paper rolled up neatly.

It was a hot, sunny day in fort worth, we were both tired because of the exhausting day of classes we had just finished, when we finally got the opportunity to go have lunch outside of the BLUU for the first time. We wanted something different to get out of the routine, something that would restore energy back to our bodies in order to continue our day. We were deciding which place to visit, but the choice was very hard since we both had heard from many restaurants before. Our enthusiasm diminished when we realized we were low on budget, but we refused to spend another lunch at the BLUU. We took our phones out and decided to call some friends and gather some opinions on where would be the perfect place to go.

My sweaty palms ran through-out the thin strands of my hair as I tried to comfort myself for just a single moment. I felt scared, almost terrified as the screams of my nightmare echoed in my ears and made my head throb. Almost never did I have such vivid dreams, and when I did, I never remembered them the next day. Nevertheless, I don't think that I'll ever be able to make amends with my darkest memories and reliving situations that scarred my childhood and eventually my life, can never be forgotten. All I can do is go back and ask what this version of myself could have done to avoid or even confront the situations and events.

A long time ago, I went hiking in a mysterious forest. I found a lamp in a cave, yes and actual lamp, like the ones you buy at Ikea and put in your living room. Anyway, I took the lamp, because it looked brand new, and brought it with me on the rest of my hike. Once I got home, I put the lamp on a shelf in my living room, and plugged it in. The next day, I invited my friend over to brag about the stylish lamp, and she was very pleased with it. We talked over Chick-Fil-a for a very long time, and we ended up somehow chatting about going to Italy. I then said, “I wish I could go to Italy!” And immediately I ended up in the Adriatic Sea with the lamp. What my friend and I didn’t know about the lamp, was that it was an enchanted lamp, housing a small genie inside of the light bulb. By plugging it into the wall, I activated his powers. I took the lamp, broke the bulb, and pulled out the miniature genie, and he said I had been chosen to be granted endless wishes.

Several years ago I made a trip to Cape Town South Africa, and it was one of the most memorable trips of my life. The excitement of the unknown grew with each passing hour spent in the air, high above the earth. Though my sons and I had a planned five day excursion, I still couldn’t stop wondering what might still lie ahead. Would it be something about this new culture I was about to experience; or would it be something more, something about me?

I feel the stabbing in my stomach bearing down on me, like the cutting edge of a knife trying to penetrate through the thick skin of my stomach. The pain awakening me just passed the five o’clock hour. At this hour, the eery darkness of night surrounds me. Suddenly, I sit up grasping my mid section. The queen sized bed absorbing the trickling, wet drops coming from the base of my neck. My feet whip out of the white, fluffy comforter. Struggling to find my footing I make my way through the scatter of clothes in my untidy bedroom. I snap on the light of the bathroom and instantaneously the beautiful tile floors are illuminated. Instantly, I am filled with a sharp pang of discomfort, the knife penetrating my lower abdomen. Promptly I fall to my knees swallowed by my dad’s oversized t-shirt. The chill tile floors ease my burning skin as I lean over the edge of the pearl-colored toilet, peering into the smooth water. The translucent water is invaded with black specks, like fireflies that dart past in an instant. I notice with every breath the number of specks increases until darkness consumes my vision. Nausea crept from my abdomen and in an instant, the world is black as the night sky.