Creative Writing: Kristos

The forest had gone.... and the Witch looked much younger. Audette opened her eyes and had found herself upon a brow of white lilies. The shape of the shrouded old woman seemed changed. Having turned around, and opened her mantle to the tearing gusts, Meliza revealed to the young lady two streams of shinging blackness and smooth white flesh. Audette stopped in her tracks.

He began to perspire. "Where are your father and mother?"The children looked up and smiled. "Oh, they'll be here directly." "Good, we must get going." but then Mr.McClean heard loud scream coming from the nursery. He run to the nursery as fast as he could. While Peter and wandy ran after him, she yelled at Mr.McClean to not open the door.As he slammed the door open, he saw the lions closing in on George Hadley and his wife and he yelled “Mr and Ms handly are you okay?” and then he turned to the kids behind him and told them to command the nursery to shut it down.” They are your parents; they raised you, fed you and most importantly, they loved you! Are you two really that heartless to try to kill them

One day, cutting through the swamp, David comes across the remains of old Indian souls and discovers a skull with jewelry still buried on the bodies. As David kicks at the skull, he hears a voice and looks up to see a black man seated on a stump just looking. The man, wearing a black sash around his body, has a soot-stained face, which makes it appear as if he works in some fiery place. David soon recognizes the stranger as the devil, the black man. Twenty years later we had a family reunion with all my relatives and they started talking about the fire.

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.

They then all became quiet, they all knew that if anyone were to insult the king or anyone that is associated with the king will be hanged for their crimes to the castle. Even though the father had said the joke about the king’s dog both he and the wife were punished. The king made the kids watch as their parents were hanged.

My ideas and thoughts about Africa had been changed after I listened to Adichie’s speech. The way she described the danger of a single story was very inspiring to me, and I could relate many of the experiences I had to her story. I was born in Pakistan and moved to the U.S. in 2007. When I came to the U.S. I lived in Virginia and went to Freedom Hill Elementary School. On the first day of school I sat next to an Indian kid named Sai and he didn’t want to sit next to me he told the teacher that are countries didn’t like each other so he wanted to sit somewhere else, but are teacher said she didn’t want to hear any of it. So during the year we had to work on many things as partners, and we got along great we had many things in common and at the end of the year we became pretty good friends. At the beginning he probably heard some things about my country and he just assumed that I was the person he heard from those stories, and after meeting me he had a different understanding of it. Soon after the year ended my dad found a better job in California so we moved here. I lived in Alameda and went to wood middle. The school I went to was very diverse and this time I wasn’t the only Muslim

“Oh fine, well a few days back, my Papa asked me to bring a crokersack full of turnip greens to Mr Johnson's house. It was a long an' miserable walk an' rain started pouring heavily. I open the door to the house to find that no one was home an' placed the crockersack down inside. Then I notice a pile of coins oddly lying on the table so I…”

Kialsi was tense as he slipped the bandages around her body, careful to not touch her.

She understood him without him ever speaking a word, especially after they became partners. The gems they wore linked their minds, they could understand each other's feelings, and thoughts. Even from miles away, it made the job easier. "Do you remember the day we meet Star Gaze?" he smiled and nodded to the mare. "I remember it all too well, I graduated from my militia class, and tested into her majesty's Special Guard. You had been there for over a year waiting for someone who would be partners to you." She looked at him smile planted on her face, hair flowing from the movement. "I was bringing my stuff into the room, I was assigned to and the only bed left was the one next to yours. So I claimed it."

In Homer 's The Odyssey, a growing adolescent, Telémakhos, resolves to search for his war-lost father after realizing that his home is teeming with rude, power-hungry suitors that wish to marry his mother, Penelope. With inspiration from Athena, Telémakhos travels to former comrades of his father, Odysseus, in a journey that is eerily similar to that of his father. Telémakhos and Odysseus 's journeys to bring the latter home are distinguishable in very few ways, most notably in how they are guided by men and women, respectively. The similarities in their experiences, due to conditions that affect their journeys, have differing results than the distinctions, which are a product of their emotional accustomations. Together, these situations lead to the collecting of information achieved by both parties, Telémakhos and Odysseus, as well as allowing both to further develop in maturity and social-emotional knowledge.

His voice was monotone as he rounded the corner. He had taken his heavier armor off, figuring he wouldn't need it around King's Landing. He had been wrong before, but lucky enough for him, he could hold his own. Long brown locks hung in his face. His boots adorned with splatters of dried blood. Beads of sweat from the fight made his forehead shine in the light, yet he wasn't breathing heavily. Those men weren't even warmups. They were nothing but street trash.

People who are currently having a domestic violence and suffering in homelessness in two group from 20-35 years old and 40-55 years old, especially women and children.

After seeing Julien blush at her, Karine watched Kristos's sword-fighting opponent finally fall to the ground. He stumbled backwards and fell straight on his back; his wooden sword slipped from his hand and clattered away, too far away for him to reach. Kristos, swaying his head to move his sandy-brown hair out of his eyes, held out his wooden sword over his fallen opponent's chest. Karine knew if it had been a real battle, with steel swords and armor, the boy would be dead; however, the boy shouted his defeat, throwing up his arms to defend himself and Kristos brought his sword away. The prince bent down to help the boy to his feet, his face bright with happiness. Karine wondered if the boy lost the fight on purpose, to please Kristos.

Pendragon’s hammer struck the iron handle of his chisel one last time. As the subdued clink of metal on metal reverberated through the room, a single sliver of ivory fell from the masterpiece. Surveying the now finished harp, Pendragon let a satisfied sigh escape his lips. Like a horse who has pulled loads for a lifetime and has finally been brought to the paddock, contentment settled over him.

"Name is Brian O'Connor, wealthy businessman, a family of five, died because of a bullet wound through the heart," FBI agent, Wisteria Clive, says while writing it onto her notepad. "Please, tell me, did your son have any enemies? In business, family, anything?"