Diary Of Tall Grass Eighty Miles From Home Essay

As I ran, I felt my foot come down on top of a moss filled rock, and I knew I was in trouble. The slick moss ripped away from the slab of granite and it sent me flying. I knew the fall would be inevitable, and took the it as best I could and prayed for some luck. Branches ripped apart my face, snapping from the contact. Blood flicked up into my eyes. My shoulder made contact with the trunk of a tree as the rest of my body dug into the mud. My legs flipped up over me, crashing into piece of granite bulging out of the ground, pain traveled its way up my leg.

As I crawled, I heard leaves rustling ahead of me. Suddenly, I felt drops of rain landing on my back. I continued moving until I couldn’t see the house at all. Then, I decided to lay on the ground to take a break to catch my breath. Ferns surrounded me. They swayed in the breeze as the rain drizzled down.

I cannot breathe. I start to panic. This causes my whole body to feel pain because of the lack of blood flow. I start to dig even though the sand is slicing my raw skin open. As I dig, cuts appear, then they freeze over.

I walked to it and tried prying it from the ground with my fingers. A twig broke behind me and I jumped and spun around. It was dark now and the only light was from the full moon. I had a bad feeling start to pump through me. I turned and ran trying to evacuate the danger I felt nearby. I ran through brush that looked like claws trying to grab my ankles. And as tree limbs came down snatching at my skin I tripped and fell. I saw a tree nearby that looked welcoming and I tried to use it as cover. Black wings busted through the trees and run started echoing around me in a croaked out a raspy breath.

In perhaps his greatest work, The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck tells a story of Tom Joad and his family, who are forced to abandon their farm during the depression era Oklahoma dust bowl. They decide to travel to California along with many other in search for jobs and homes, and look for a great future. In the time considered, The Grapes of Wrath, gives a shockingly real view on the struggles citizens at the time faced. In the tragic novel, The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck uses Christian symbolism effectively in order to shape and reinforce the theme of the dignity of wrath. Steinbeck convey’s this through the use of Jim Casy, Tom Joad and Rose of Sharon.

I settle back and look up at the sky, listening to the screaming of the frogs and crickets. My eyes are just starting to close when something cold and spiny hits me on the throat, falls to the ground, and lies there flipping in the dirt.

It's closing in on you and you feel a rush of fear. You realize you can't narrowly escape this time; You're out of resources and you can't fend it off.

The cavernous and threatening woods that stretch out before me are a godless sight, unfolding out for what seems like forever. Beautiful, yet terrifying. The low hanging clouds that seemed to almost hold some kind of electricity cover the woods like a descending blanket of mist trapping its victims below. The vast, contorted trees leak sticky sap like poisoned back of a frog; the trunks twisting up insanely, like the despairing limbs of the damned begging for forgiveness. The damp earth beneath my feet softens as I walk down deeper in to the undergrowth. The distant howl of a strange and unfamiliar creature echoes all around me and suddenly I am a submarine, submerged in this unknown woodland setting.

I stumble out the front of the class towards the trampoline. My heart starts beating faster. My vision blurs. I can’t breathe.

I pushed my arms ahead of me, using them to more easily tear my way through the winding vines. My skin was torn, red and bloody, but that was okay. It shows that I am trying. I'm persistant and I will never give up.

"I got to keep going," she thinks, stumbling a few more steps. Suddenly an overwhelming weakness started surging through every muscle in her thin frail body. She tried to fight it, as she heads towards a safer location. The feeling became so powerful that she collapses on the cold wet ground.

Why God did you make me fall in mud right in front of him? WHY!? With the help of my friend, Katie, I get up and see how bad I’m covered in mud. This ewwy, gooey, dark, brown, smelly thing

Groaning in frustration, I get up as fast as I can, flinging mud off of my person. When I'm all done, I grab my bag and head back into the direction of the road. Or at least that's what I thought.

Breathe in, breathe out. My lungs rattle as I gasp for air in the humid afternoon. The sun beats down on my forehead as sweat drips onto the blistering tar. My jersey sticks to my skin as I clench my fists. Breathe in, breathe out. My legs flood with lactic acid, but I march ahead. Coach’s voice interrupts the pounding of my feet, urging me to fight on. I feel a sudden burst of adrenaline rush through my body and I drive my legs up the hill. Breathe in, breathe out. Midway, my vision begins to blur. Numbness diffuses across my arms until I’m left paralyzed. I realize my blood glucose is dangerously low but I still push forward. My body stiffens and I collapse onto the dehydrated grass beneath me. I stare up at the sky and see the sun begin

I got up, dazed at first. Neglecting to put on my shoes, and ran to the spigot as fast as I could, brambles and thorns catching on my legs and my heart pounding hard in my chest.