Descriptive Speech

We pulled up to an old house that looked abandoned. I saw the Chloe was trying her hardest to hide a nasty grin but, I ignored it because the house is what really grabbed my attention. Chloe turned off the car and opened the door. After that she signaled us to follow. Carly and Ellie glanced at each other and smirked at each other. We walked up to the doorway and opened the door. Somehow I got in front of them and walked in first. Right at that moment someone popped out and screamed. Then I found myself covered in spoiled milk. There was cameras flashing everywhere and all I could do was run and cry. I ran all of the way home, up the stairs, and straight into the bathroom to shower. I couldn't believe how stupid I was and how I didn't see what was coming the whole time. My mother knocked on the door. I stood there for a minute before I opened

I walked away feeling like I was a complete failure and that I didn’t deserve to go on. On the way home my mother tried to talk to me, but, I put on my headphones and cried silently. Once we were home my father asked how it went. The tears that were in my eyes and they became more evident as my shoulders and chest were shaking and trembling. The only sound in the room was the sound of me crying and wailing. I started crumbling and falling to the ground and my mother and father rushed to my side. They held me until the tears came to a stop and a little bit afterwards

My mother had left my dad’s house slippers by the coat rack behind the door. I was grateful to her as the floor felt like ice. Hanging up my coat, I slipped into my dad’s bathrobe, which was hanging on its peg. We had a fireplace in the living room and the chimney exited the west side of the roof. I smelled the smoke of the dying fire, and I knew my mom was in bed. The bedrooms were located on the second story. Her room was located at the end of the hallway, and my room was at the head of the stairs above the

My dad and Mei caught me, and they carried me out of the door toward the car. This time, I knew what the darkness meant. I started crying as my conscious coming back. I was scared. I had no control of my body - I could barely feel it. I wasn't only losing my senses, but I wasn't losing my body and my life, as well as my dream and my hope - I was losing it all. All of those excessive caffeine, red bulls, sleepless nights, and unhealthy diets had messed up my metabolism. They appeared in my mind and reminded me how I had been destroying my body. I thought I was young and strong so I could resist all these damages; I thought my will and mental strength were strong enough to handle everything. Nevertheless, here I was, with no control over my body, my health, and my everything. I myself had brought me here. I had killed myself piece by piece. Such a bad job that I had done - sustaining my own life! That was so immature and stupid. Regrets and self-hatred were all over my mind. The idea of death threatened me made me take that incidence

Upon arriving to our apartment, my sister, brother, and I shared three hours of endless stories my mom had missed. Soon after, my parents decided it was time for bed. Having lost in a round of rock, paper, and scissors, I was forced to sleep on the floor with my parents while my sister and brother took over the bunk beds. Within a couple of hours into falling asleep, I woke up around 3’o clock from the floor vibrating with the bass notes from the bar downstairs. Scattered memories of my grandma suddenly rushed into my head: all the times I vented to her about how much I didn't want to go to piano lessons; the times I cried to her, limping back home with a bloody scraped knee; and the times we laughed together as my baby brother tried to talk to SpongeBob and Patrick through the TV. The last memory was the final straw, and I was ready to explode with the welled up tears from trying to seem like I had it all together. Still trying to hide my true emotions, I banged my head against the wooden leg of the bunk bed in an attempt to cover the true source of the teardrops. After hearing the loud thump, my parents immediately woke up asking me, “What’s wrong, what happened,” and going along with being the boastful kid I was, I responded, “I hit my head on the bed.” My mom replied, “Everything will be okay.” But everything was not okay because my grandma should have been next to me but instead, she was half way across the world.

It happened after school on June 8th, 2011, a Wednesday. There were no clouds in the sky and the sun was blazing. It was so hot that our neighbors were swimming in an inflatable pool in front of the apartment. I was inside watching them and I wanted to go swimming as well, but our neighbors didn’t like us. Our mother and father wanted us to do it, probably because they wanted to do drugs like they used to, or still do. I don’t know. I still don’t understand why they did drugs. I stopped watching because it was like torture. Minutes later the cops came in and said that we had to leave. I was struggling not to cry, but I couldn’t help it. I burst into tears and hugged my father for unbeknownst to me, the last time ever. I don’t even remember saying anything to my mother. This doesn’t make sense to me because my father did a lot worse things to me than my mother. We were then put into a grey van and driven to our new house, which turned out to be our forever

It was a cold, winter night. The wind blew against window, which the house sound like a tornado was happening outside. It was another lonely night, my parents were never home. They both had very successful jobs, they were always busy so they just me at home. They actually told me they bought a mansion closer to their work so, that meant I had to live alone. I am still grateful though, it could be worse. My original family, had abandoned me when I was a baby. The orphanage said they were delusional and that if it wasn’t for that I would be dead. I got up from my bed, pushing the blanket aside putting my head between my legs with my hands over my head. I removed my hands after a few seconds, I looked at my alarm clock on my midnight desk.

“Never take life for granted because in a blink of an eye everything could change.” This is a quote I have learned to live by ever since Spring Break 2017, when I was close to losing my mom and my sister after a riptide pulled them out to sea at Hapuna Beach in Hawaii. Before I went to Hawaii I acted like I would always have the things I had and I never thought of them as things I was lucky to have. For example I thought I would always have friends and family who loved me and I never really thought that could ever change. I would even spend my weekends on my phone in my room instead of with my friends and family. Though since my experience in Hawaii I spend as much time as I can with the people I love because I now know that

I get home and realize that I still have homework. I sit at the kitchen table silently doing work as my mom brings me dinner. Pizza. My favorite. It’s nice crusty bread, with sweet tomato sauce made from homegrown tomatoes, and last of all the melty cheese. I eat my delicious dinner and finish my homework. It’s almost 10:30 I think to myself...I should get going now. I slowly drag my dead body like a zombie up the gruesome stairs and make my way to the bathroom. I brush my teeth with my mint toothpaste sending a chill down my spine when it first hits my teeth. Once again I have to start the journey back into my room where I can see my bed. I head to the closest put on my warm pajamas which I knew were calling my name hours before. I slide into bed and sink into the welcoming mattress.

I was trapped in this torturous nightmare and couldn’t wake up. Slowly but surely I watched as a bunch of strangers took all of my memories from my house! My house that I came home to when I was born. My house that I took my first steps in. My house that Santa would come to every single year. Then I had to say goodbye to it all, and start all over. Nine hours later we arrived at a rundown two room apartment. How was I supposed to survive that sweltering summer in that small shack? Every day that summer was boring and the same: wake up, go for a walk, look for houses, go to

I remember the day it happened. It was raining and my house was oddly quiet. There was no sound coming from downstairs and I assumed everyone was still asleep. But, it didn’t make sense considering it was a Monday morning and it was 8:00 am. My parents would have been running around the house leaving for work by now. Maybe they haven’t woken up yet, I thought. I got out of bed, put on the black slippers I always leave on the floor, and walked towards my parent's room. They weren’t there. The bedsheets were strewn across the floor and my little brother was still in his crib. My parents would normally put him on the bed, then wake me up so I could go sleep next to him. I knew something was out of place. Our morning routine for the summer never once changed.

My brother and I left Crescent, Georgia and was now staying in a two bedroom house in Decatur, Georgia with my dad, stepmother, baby sister, grandmother, and grandfather. Yep. That’s right. Seven people lived in a two bedroom house. My grandparents had one bedroom, my dad, stepmother, and sister the second bedroom, and my brother and I slept in the living room. Because the living room was not a huge space, my brother and I were only allowed to keep a small amount of our clothes in a blue plastic tub that was purchased at the dollar store while the rest went into a storage garage my father had to pay for monthly. Several of my pretty new flower or halter top dresses, brown and black leather jackets, teddy bears, diary, and pictures were thrown into garage bags and shipped away. I had become slightly depressed. I went from having my own room, dresser, clothes, and privacy to only a limited amount of my belongings, sharing a room with my brother and being woken up every night by his farts that smelled like rotten eggs. All I could do is cry and begin to despise the fact I decided to move away from my mother. As I was packing my final items to be sent to the storage, my grandmother came in. “Girl why are you crying?” “Go in the bathroom and clean your face and come back so that we can all discuss some things. Without hesitation, I quickly dashed into the bathroom to clean my eyes. When entering the room, I noticed that everyone was in the living room waiting on me with faces so

From what I remember that night it had been like any other. Repressed memories and such. I had been mom’s helper in the kitchen and dad’s little grease monkey in the garage. It was nice being the happy family, everyone would imagine us to be. Mom and dad were paid well and known around town for being the kind hearted Argo’s with the perfect life. No one would have had a second thought about anyone wanting us dead for any sort of reason. I was 5 when all hell had broken loose in my house and my life had been shattered into a billion pieces. Although I have to say I’ve been holding up pretty well for the past 12 years.

Breathing is such an essential function; its significance is often times forgotten, but it is so much more than something we, as humans, do to stay alive. A breath can indicate an emotion almost as well as a facial expression, for it is a spiritual component as much as a somatic one. A breath is something so tangible here on earth that in the cold, an exhalation can be seen saturating the air with its warmth. After a run, a breath can be heard as it becomes more and more laborious for the person taking it, yet the most important breaths, more so the absence of them, are the ones that are often overlooked. These moments, the ones that steal a precious breath, are the moments we live for.

Middle school is a very important time in every child’s life. It is full of drama, bullying, relationship changes, and year long fads and phases. We captured all of that and more in our play and we used language, jokes, insults, situations, and objects that we use in our everyday lives as middle schoolers right now. Slime, Pokemon Cards, and Fidget Spinners, are all very popular items in today’s middle school world and we included all of them for authenticity, and humor in our scene. Middle School in general may not have changed much over the years, but the slang and what is considered cool certainly has, and we reflected that in our scene clearly; our scene was designed by middle schoolers, for middle schoolers. When adapting the scene from William Shakespeare’s As You Like it (Act III, Scene III) we could clearly visualize how it could play out in a middle school setting. This scene involves many common situations that are relatable and relevant to all middle school students such as trying to fit in, breaking school rules, doing homework, liking someone, and trying to figure out whether you are liked. Our message is portrayed by four middle school students. Victoria who is the popular girl, Carter who is an athletic, class clown, Molly who is a nerd, who wishes she was cool, and Luke who is a sweet boy who is very unaware of middle school social norms. From the beginning it was clear who liked who initially, and that there were varying levels of “coolness” among