Life was joyous, for the boy had not yet met with any calamities. The buoyancy in his happiness reflected his upbringing; slightly spoiled, yet well mannered. It was the boy’s eighth birthday; another year full of delight, but this year, his parents had intended to surprise him. As a collective, both the boy’s parents as well as most of his friends had decided to take the boy to an amusement park, as a sort of pre-party for his birthday party. They had planned to gather up parade balloons; giant elephants, giraffes and even rhinos, stuffing them with glitter and candy, then popping them, creating an abundant array of colours within the sky; one that would mimic a rainbow.
After months of careful planning and consideration, the day had finally arrived; the happiest day of a boy's life. Having overheard his parents' grand scheme, the boy had already begun to sing 'Happy Birthday'; skipping along, he had sung the song to everyone. As per usual, he had been sent to school, though on the day of his birthday, the boy had never reached his destination.
While gracefully skipping his way to school, he had been kidnapped and tossed into a van. Neither frightened nor scared, he had remained calm as through a slight slit in the bag over his head, the amusement park was in sight; his eyes sparkled with merriment. The van came to a sudden halt, and as the doors opened, a blinding light had pierced through the slight slit in the bag that he had been peeking from;
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Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.
“Where should we walk to?” I asked. “I don’t know” said Megan. Elizabeth chimed in saying “let’s just walk around seeing where we end up.” The three of us walked around, and ended up at the playground at Olmsted Elementary School. It was chilly out, but you only needed a sweatshirt. The playground was spooky at night. It felt like someone was hiding waiting for
In contrast to the suspicions of the authorities, the public responded was accepting to the balloon. Children enjoyed bouncing on it, and others begin to “locate themselves” in relation to it. Opinions vary, but even people who are unsure towards the balloon experience an “admixture of pleasurable cognition.” The balloon gives the public a unique opportunity for reflection, even though the balloon's meaning can never be known completely. Each person's response to the balloon becomes a reflection of his or her general outlook on life. One man thinks the balloon is inferior to the sky, but the balloon is actually an improvement on January dark, ugly weather. Another person considers the balloon to be an “unanticipated reward”, as if just being in the balloon presence was a gratifying and positive experience. No matter the response, the balloon provides the citizens liberation from their daily lives.
I had been crying since I woke up that day and I was still crying. My sobs had droned on in the background as this stranger touched and sifted and opened each tiny piece of my life. As I watched her, I thought about how private my backpack and its contents always seemed. They were mine, They were to be kept or revealed as I saw fit. But now, I was in the
We arrived at our destination… so I took my headphones out, and I put my iPhone away. I stepped off of the bus to see a large brick school building with some bricks missing and multiple cracked windows illuminated by light bulbs glowing brightly in classrooms full of innocent children. I began walking to the entrance of the school, trying to avoid the large cracks in the sidewalk that were filled with ice on this bitter December day. Snow was falling and the bitter cold and my new surroundings were shaking me to the core.
Hetekia woke up very early on the 26 October as today was a very special day his birthday.He jumped out of bed and raced into his parents room where he sat on there bed and opened his presents he got a back pack,rugby ball,light saber and storm trooper costume Hetekia then raced back upstairs to get changed into his storm trooper outfit Hetekia looked great with his lightsaber next he raced downstairs to have ice cream and cake for breakfast before jumping in the car and driving along the icy and windy road in the misty weather to go to.Mr.Willy Wonka's incredible and fabulous chocolate factory.Hetekia was having a great day and the cake was about to come out when crash the cake falls off the table and oozes open making a mess and seeping into
The Superintendent walked solemnly down the dimly lit hallway. The vast walls of lockers gave him an overwhelming sense of nostalgia, eating away at his soul like acid eating away metal. The psychologically effects transmitted to his outer body, causing him to halt to an abrupt stop. Standing like a deer in headlights, his mind was instantaneously flooded with brisk images of the once flourishing hallways. He stifled a faux smile, composed himself, and erratically walked into the main office, where he prepared to apologetically deliver the final afternoon announcement of the High School’s history. Alone¬¬––later in his office, another pang of dense, impenetrable darkness suffocated him and he let out a cry of resignation. He put his chapped
Once long ago, there was a boy named Curran Duke. He was quite a good child although he had his moments. One day for his birthday his parents decided to take him to the Nickelodeon Hotel. Curran was so excited and screamed when he found out that he was going. He counted down the days until he went and when he finally left he was so very jubilant.
An eruption of clapping and cheering loomed in a little girl’s ears as she gleefully skipped down a cement sidewalk. Her right hand was engulfed in her mother’s large, soft fingers. Her left tightly gripped onto a shiny helium balloon, its crimson orb catching the light of the afternoon sun. After checking up on her rouge treasure, the girl looked up to her mother, a giggle escaping her lips.
Underneath that cool exterior, Penny was burning up. Not with a fever, but with fear. Tomorrow was, as she was terming it, the big day. The day of the Balloon Festival, and that was more nerve-wrecking than it sounded, or at least it was to Penny. It had to be successful because somwhere along the lines, Penny had got her thoughts twisted, and now it felt like the entire town's
The street was eerily quiet as I crossed. So was Mike. Staring at me unwaveringly, he said nothing as I approached. The crow's feet framing his eyes, the ridges in his forehead, and the crinkles in his cheeks still stand out in my mind. How many nights had he lain on that bench, covering his face as the wind whipped against it? Now he hugged his body tightly. He was wearing an old pair of tan khakis, a shirt that I couldn't see clearly, and a light multi-colored jacket, its sleeves ending above his pale wrists, that was just slightly too small and clung to his body. As I gave him the money in my wallet, he took it--slowly--and stared at it for a second in disbelief. Although the street in front of the library is usually an amalgam of car horns, headlights, whining engines throughout the night, nothing--not
The morning sunshine seeped through the cracks between my shutters, lighting up my room. I could hear the clock ticking and the rays of sunlight bouncing off of my eyelids. I barely got any sleep last night because I was ecstatic that tomorrow was, my birthday! I jumped up out of bed, how could I have forgotten that it was my birthday? Suddenly all of my drowsiness turned it into excitement and I jumped up, throwing the red gradient quilt off of my bed. I slowly walked out of my room, making very little noise, checking to see if anyone else was awake. I peeked through the intricate staircase railings and tried to spot anyone downstairs, no one was in sight. I tiptoed down the cream coloured stairs, reached the bottom and got startled when my mom yelled, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”, her voice bouncing off the walls of house. A grin so big spread across my face, I couldn’t believe I was turning four years old!
"Happy Birthday", my mom screamed out and scared me the morning of June 9. But it was surprising and nice of her since she wished me before anyone else. It was my eighteen birthday and it was my day. While looking out the big windows in my room, I thought to myself, I will do what satisfies me today, but wasn't quite sure what? I didn’t receive any calls from my friends, or other relatives. Nobody was home either besides my mom with whom I can’t make plans because she got her own work to do. It depressed me because it seemed like this was going to be one boring eighteen birthday.
“APPLES GET DOWN HERE LET’S GO!” Lollipop screamed from the ground, I quickly ran down the branches of my tree to meet her. Lollipop had led me to a place, but I didn't know where because she said it was a surprise for me, and by the way today… I turned 16! It’s cool, I know. I’m sort of exhausted from helping all these people though, but hopefully today will make up for it. The worst part of my day was that my own boyfriend forgot my birthday. A few hours later we were still
The clock ticked down as we had less than thirty minutes to find our way out of the labyrinth that we stumbled into. As we adventured further our once unscathed gleaming shoes became soiled as they dredged through the dense, sticky mud that now engulfed the path. A path once created with the type of gravel that crunches and crackles like a can being crushed. Naturally, every step lead farther out of familiarity, inching into an unfamiliar landscape. Furthermore, the probability of returning to the fluorescent tourist filled road dwindling. The maze we had stumbled upon threw us in a daze, as a result not a single speculation in our conscious minds on where we had landed ourselves. Twenty minutes were spent attempting to grasp where we concluded our travel in addition to settling our anxiety. Nonetheless, we were lost, as a result of countless deviations leaving us in a foreign location . The equanimity of the breeze from the Caribbean sea granted us the opportunity to recollect the memory of the detours we had chosen. To no avail, we were unable to unlock the portions of our memories containing the needed information. As I yanked out my cell phone with hopes of accessing my GPS, the greeting of a black screen with a flaming red depleted battery symbol beamed back. As I turned around to my friend only five hundred feet behind an unpleasant salty taste flooded my mouth from the sweat dribbling down from my now greasy blonde hair. I observed that is black hair had become matted