Descriptive Writing High School

How did this happen? There is only a distant memory of the echoing sounds heard at the beginning of that faithful night. A symphony of snaps and the soft crackling effectively expressing a non-threatening occurrence. The smoke was intoxicating, consequently, lulling us to sleep. Gently, I would wake unable to move; unsuspecting to me my body was being consumed with fumes. I could hear a still slight whisper saying “wake up” but, my body would not comply.

As I am walking down the hall to Ms.Johnson’s room, I see something different. There is a sub today. I just really hope she isn’t as mean as she looks. When I walk into the classroom I get my folder and go to my assigned seat to start my “do now”. When the teacher walks in she says,”Everyone sit down and don’t make a noise unless you want a step!”

The storm I witnessed was Hurricane Sandy. When I first heard of the hurricane I thought it wouldn't be as bad as some people were prediciting, but as the storm approached I certainly changed my mind. As we sat in the house it became very real how bad the storm was going to be. It was scary to hear the wind howling; blowing the trees around, hearing branches falling and the windows rattling. Hurricane Sandy left a lot of desvesation and distruction not only in New Jersey but in the Tri- State and surrounding areas. the storm left many

All of the walls are plastered with student work of hand-cut construction paper snowflakes and stockings. In the mornings, excited students swarm the hallway as they look for their classroom and their teacher. Echoes of “good mornings” bounce around the hallway from student to teacher. But farther down the hallway, the older students are not as excited for the day while the bare walls match their expressionless faces. About halfway down this hallway is a wide staircase down leading to the fourth grade classrooms. It is rather quiet in this hallway because there is a distinct lack of

“Alexia Landry, get your butt out of that bed! You are going to make your brother late for his classes,” my dad shouts at the top of his lungs.

Sunlight is beaming through the window as the alarm clock beeps louder and louder. The first day jitters have begun. Just a little over two months ago, fourth grade came to an end for Emily and summer vacation began. But, where did the summer go? Long days spent at the beach buried in the sand; seem like a distant memory. Fifth grade has become the reality and being a middle school student is still sinking in.

Patrick walked into his English class and slid in his toward the back of the room. Once he was settled, the second bell rang, signaling that class had officially started.

“Hey, Kensie!” I say. I hope she can’t tell something is wrong by my voice.

In my bedroom closet, folded and tucked neatly in a box, is a blanket. At a glance, the piece of patchwork looks rather mundane. As one looks closer, “blanket” is a rather generous word for the piece, considering it is a part of an unfinished project. So why keep this small scrap of fabric? It provides warmth, not to my appendages, rather to my soul.

Sunday November 12, 2073 we just woke up it seems like we landed outside of a huge building complex. The others and i do not know what is going on i am not ready for this we all have heard about the others and how ships would just take them how can i say it, they was just gone we have never seen this before it was just never seen again. I am strapped onto my seat across from me is a young girl with a high black long ponytail and seems to be wearing a black mask only revealing her eyes, nose, and mouth. The girl across from me is also strapped onto her seat her body is leaning forward and her head is tilted down. Her black long sleeve jacket is dripping in water and her left thigh has a big scar going across it just above her knee her

She is small and sharp and angular. Her elbows hurt when they're pressed tightly against you and her small fingers dig into your sides. She rests her chin on your shoulder and it sinks into you. Her fingers are flat- but you always remember them flatter than they are. In your mind, they are a 2D part of her. Her hair looks as if someone set it aflame. It reminds you of October, of the orange, crisp leaves. While you are in no way overweight, you are definitely softer than her. Her hands are delicate, you’re always afraid you’ll crush them, so you hold her hand loosely. You can’t decide what color her eyes are. At first, they seem blue, but the next time you see her you could swear they’re green, and occasionally they look a stormy grey.

I restore and rebuild cars and find myself tangled in the use of appropriate English to explain a process I use for specific situations. It takes a lot of time to explain the whole process, so I decided one night to make my own word to describe the process. The word I created explains the process. I was inspired by a book titled Frindle written by Andrew Clements that I read in elementary school. In my research I discovered many ways that new words can be created. These ways are the randomizer approach, making a noun have a new, different twist, and turning objects into verbs. I think everybody should know these three methods, so they too can make their own word or words to contribute to the English language.

People stared pouring into the house. It took at least 5 minutes for the house to be full of people. Half the people here were not on list, I guess the word of a party spread through out the school.

The alarm goes off at six in the morning. With the whole world still asleep, I get up and put on my basketball gear. My eyes hardly open and my muscles refuse to get out of the warmly made bed. My dad comes down with a rather keen smile plastered all over his face. He asks if I’m ready to go. I reply with a simple nod of my head. The feeling of the cold water from the sink suspends the feeling of collapsing muscles. But the day is long from over.

I walk down an empty road feeling the cold breeze go through .As I look down at my outfit a long skirt and a sweater that were both black as night having my hair up in a sloppy pony tale.As I feel a weird feeling in my gut as if I am being watched as I turn around slowly scared what I might see as my heart starts to race.Only to find my own shadow behind me.I continue walking feeling stupid.Getting scared for no reason ,but the feeling in my gut would not go away as I turn around not expecting it.I see a creature.A creature that made my skin crawl.It looked human in the dark but in the light it was something entirely different.