Pawley's Island Research Paper

I covered my mouth to keep it shut and not say anything. He was wearing black boots and black pants. I could see him running towards the open window in a hurry. Maybe he thought i jumped out or something. He began to run towards the stairs. “He’s leaving” i whispered… But there was no answer, I realized that the call was cut. The man was stepping down the stairs… when all of a sudden there was a loud ringtone coming from my hand. There was then a panic in my heart. The man rushed back into my room and entered, There was a moment of silence when all i could see was the man’s black boots staring straight at my eyes. When suddenly there was a powerful pull dragging me out of the bed. Closing my eyes all i could feel is was extrucenary pain all over my body, every second. I reached out for anything near by so I could at least fight. I felt something from the tip of my fingers. I got a grip of something and swung as hard as I could, I hit him hard. The man fell back. I opened my eyes and there he was, Lying on the ground. Weak and hurt i got up and slowly started walking out of my room and down the stairs. My whole body hurt it was hard to move. I heard the man start to get up, I was terrified. I decided to walk to the basement door to try and hide. I remembered the small door that was in the basement. And went gently to open the door. Weak and in pain I was able to get down the old sketchy stairs and move some boxes to open the door. I opened the door. On the other side was a little room. It was dark and had a little bit of light coming from the outside. Maybe the moon light from the outside. I sat on the small corner of the room.I wrapped my arms around my body to try and stay warm. It was quiet for a second. Until I heard the basement door slam open. The man's foot steps were loud and you could tell he wasn't very happy. I could easily read exactly where he was. He was looking for me,

There is no other place I feel more at ease than at Kiawah Island. I have been going to this summer getaway every since I was a baby, and my love for this little island off the coast of South Carolina will never fade. When we roll up the driveway of 90 Jackstay Court, I feel a surge of elation, as I know I will be spending the next week with my family, cousins, and grandparents. I run my hands across the granite countertops where I can already smell the intoxicating aromas of a home cooked meal. First thing in the morning, my cousin and I grab our sand battered bikes, and start pedalling on the boardwalk to the beach. I’m careful on the narrow wooden platform, with the painful reminder of when I fell off into the brush. We hop off our bikes

I awoke with the sound of beeps in the distance. My eyes fluttered, eyelashes blocking my small spot of a view. In the corner, I could see my mom, her head in her hands, shaking slowly from tears. I gradually moved my head to the left. The room was bright, with white floors and bleached walls. There were multiple carts full of medical supplies right next to me. While scanning the room, I could hear my mother gasp and run out of the door. Moments later, a tall lanky guy walked into in the room. He was wearing scrubs with little stars and a light blue stethoscope was dangling from

I looked back at the ocean one last time before the sun left. It seemed to give off heat waves. I then turned around and started on the short sand trail back to my car with Jeff. As we approached the wooden picket fence, sand found its way into my sandals and between my toes. It felt like dirt.

In the year 1996, Jeff Mangum and his band Neutral Milk Hotel released their debut LP, titled On Avery Island. Initially, the album was all but ignored by the music community, coming from such a small start-up band. Only after the release and success of the band’s second LP, In The Aeroplane Over The Sea, did On Avery Island receive much more attention than a glance. Often overshadowed by its more popular sibling, On Avery Island is a wonderful album in its own right. Jeff himself has stated that he prefers it to Aeroplane, having spent much more time emotionally invested in its creation. Jeff wrote the songs for this album over a 9 year period from 1987 to 1996. The song “Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone” was written on the back of a cigarette pack

Opening my eyes to the complete darkness and loneliness, I swung awake. The last thing I can remember is the dog running out into the road, the brightness of the day light, and the car headed off the road. As my head cleared, I realize I’m hanging upside down. Feet and legs completely binded. Hearing something breathing behind me was very unsettling. From what I could see and feel this was a cold and dank cave. There was the dim light of a fire shining shadows across the open cavern. My wallet, watch, and an old pocket knife I always had on me was feet away on a stone pedestal. Dad always kept his Swiss Army Knife in his pocket no matter where he went.

The 150-year-old cottage, a paint-peeling two story clapboard, came complete with a detached kitchen and maid’s quarters tucked behind.The four-sided wrap-around porch, half screened, half open, housed wooden rockers, ping pong table, two hammocks and a kid’s dining table. We had arrived at Pawley’s Island, SC, a strip of land three miles long and one house wide. The island included only single-family homes, a couple of boarding houses, an Episcopal Church and weather-beaten wooden pier. Our two-week multi-family vacation, one of many for the next fifteen years, was paid for with ninety-one year old Damo’s sudden royalties from an old dormant coal mine.

I awoken, dazed and confused. Instead of being on the ship as it glide across the sparking sea; I’m on the shore completely covered in sand from head to toe. I looked around my surroundings, from the small insects crawling on the beach to the wild

A condign vacation was in order after I wrapped shooting., so I took the following week off work and headed to East Hampton. A limpid sky hovered over head as Scotty and I drove towards the sea. As we inched closer to our destination the light, crisp air began to taste of salt and the salutary sun elicited a a mutual felicity from us. Soon the ocean entered our ken, waves rolling and crashing, then slithering back into the powerful body. We parked the car and abandoned our footwear at the threshold of the beach. The warm sand caressed my feet, a seagull squawked in the distance. We clamed our spot in the sand and applied sunscreen (I a bit more liberally then she), then took our place amongst the rest of the sun worshippers. Overhead the sun

Leaves glistened in the moonlight, as the wind howled in despair. I found myself alone, in the darkness, as I noticed a slim figure walking towards me. Adrenaline rushed through my veins, as the individual walking towards me appeared to be a stranger. As the silhouette came closer, I realized that it was my dear aunt. Her face beamed with excitement, and she grabbed me into a tight embrace. “I am moving on,” she informed me as the corners of her mouth pulled into a genuine smile. She then turned around and began to gracefully amble out of the hinterland, as her shadow disappeared within the ominous darkness. I became aware that I was merely in a dream that was only a product of my subconscious mind. I became lucid, as relief washed over

Upon Tracey Minkin journey to find a suitable beach getaway, she discovered the meaning behind the most tranquil places. The simplest things are often the most sophisticated. When searching for a coastal retreat, we are instantly reminded of the so called mecca of ocean fronts like Miami, California, and so on. Minkin highlights that a tightly knitted community often has benefits that can’t be experienced at the large cities. One advantage reminds the traveler that not all ocean shores have to be populated by a multitude of businesses. Ocean Springs is able to represent the pinnacle of simple relaxation and peaceful serenity with the absence of “commercial development [along] the shoreline”. This location communicates with

My parents and I happily trudged out of our chilled condo room, weighed down by various beach supplies. We made our way to the elevator, slowly but surely exiting the maze we call our condo hallways. As we glided down, floor after floor, we finally reached the parking garage. We stepped out of the elevator feeling a mix of humidity and heat immediately cling to our tan bodies. We exited the garage to find a beautiful scene. Birds were flying overhead as there were sun rays beating down against white, hot sand. We crossed the bridge that held shoes and scattered shells. After we did so, we pressed our feet against the white sand that belonged to Destin, Florida. The sight was even more alluring than I had ever imagined.

The air was cold and windy. The beach was black, with small glossy pebbles, and shells. The shells on the beach where beautiful, shiny, and large bigger than my head. The water was gray with rocks that were big enough to climb on. The rocks held puddles of water with ocean life living in them. Small crabs where running over my feet as I sat on the rocks looking at the wave splash against it. A small trail going off of the beach, going to a

It was midnight; I lay awake unable to sleep, thoughts swirling through my mind. Like a crack of a whip I was jolted back into reality by a loud chorus of screams echoing though the silence of the night. I peered out of my window but only saw the moon resting in the jet-black sky. As, I slipped back into my cosy bed I could still hear more screams. I lay as still as a log, scared stiff for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly, I heard our front door creak open, my dog barking to warn us of the intruder. Someone was downstairs and was now climbing up the stairs to what sounded like my parents’ bedroom. I was paralysed with fear unable to move.

I sat in the alley trying to catch my breath. The sounds of sirens filled the air as I saw the red and blue lights flicker pass me. I took off my mask and felt my horns fade to nothing. I went down the street to my father 's bar The Swig of Death. I went into my father 's bar it was empty and saw him washing cups.