Essay On The Wraiths

I peered around through the rain, desperately searching for some shelter, I was drowning out here. The trouble was, I wasn’t in the best part of town, and in fact it was more than a little dodgy. I know this is my home turf but even I had to be careful. At least I seemed to be the only one out here on such an awful night. The rain was so powerfully loud I couldn’t hear should anyone try and creep up on me. I also couldn’t see very far with the rain so heavy and of course there were no street lights, they’d been broken long ago. The one place I knew I could safely enter was the church, so I dashed.

We have to sleep in 16’ by 14’ hut. There is twelve people per hut. We are all squished and uncomfortable. I don’t think a day has gone by that it has not been snowing here. My feet are frozen and cold. I am missing one of my fingers and cry myself to sleep wanting to be with my family. So now I have the choice to leave and through all of this in the end I get to go home. There is also frostbite, many of the men are having their feet, arms, and fingers being cut off. This is only a few of the awful thing happening here at Valley Forge.

The sky was bleak and the earth was frozen and bare. The only nearby remnant of life was situated in the winter camp at Valley Forge. Lifeless men dragged their feet lethargically on the deep snow while their tattered clothing blow in the howling wind. “A general cry [through] the Camp…. Among the Soldiers, ‘No Meat!

"She did not take the broad, beaten road which led to the far-off plantation at Valmonde. She walked across a deserted field, where the stubble bruised her tender feet, so delicately shod, and tore her thin gown to shreds. She disappeared among the reeds and willows that grew thick along the banks of the deep, sluggish

The night’s sky was a foreboding glow, displaying the remnants of the chaos that proceeded on that very night. The air was calm and still, leaving no trace of the strong, mighty wind that had once seized it. Seeker Gawin and Annabelle emerge from the Great Fall forest, heading in the direction of the marketplace of the Masonburge Village with a bewildered first commander, who was heading back to the castle, passing them with his men riding a few feet behind. The people of the village have gathered in a somber mood, watching the last of the king’s men carry away bodies on one of their horses.

He waited until the night’s 11th hour. By now the Princess rested in the highest tower of the castle, locked away from the dangerous world, yet so oblivious to the dangers that which fated the rest of her life. Silently the peasant journeyed outside, where he stopped at the wall of the tower where she lay. He watched her in the darkness from below, lifting his face to her, letting the light rest on his every surface of darkness. The night was cloudless. The winds wailed between the motionless oak trees as its thin branches clawed out, ever so slightly disturbing the leaves with its hostile screeches. Not the thick moss of the trees nor the damp leaves squirming in his toes could distract the peasant from so enticing a scent. All that encircled him was the sweetness of lavender and rosewood, filling his entire being as he sunk into the grass, like sand washed over by the water, with every breeze passing

Atet’s body rested a few yards away from me growing colder, she hadn’t lasted long once the guards had sealed the door. I almost smiled when I heard her take that final gasp for air, her worn soul finally at rest. Being a slave, she likely hadn’t eaten well in days, but I suppose that only shortened her anguish. My eyes finally began to adjust to the harshly darkened room and I could make out her crumpled figure sprawled along the ground, I realised that it would only be a matter of hours before I would join her. My own violent coughing interrupted my thoughts; with my head pounding I notice something wet splattered on my hands. With the pain in the back of my skull came the numb realisation that I will join Atet, sooner than I had imagined. I ran my hands along the wall I leant

She felt a chill run down her spine as she had a sense that someone was watching her from afar. Slowly turning to look behind her, she looked out in the distance of the woods by her house. When she felt certain that no one was there she proceeded the rest of the way to her front door.

One night, thoroughly past her bedtime, Georgiana crept stealthily downstairs to sneak a bite of pie, even though her mother would never approve. She immediately realized a heavy drape of desolation. The only noise was her heart beating to the rapid rhythm of the twitching fan. Georgiana thought that no one would be awake at one in the morning. She slipped through the doorway into the kitchen. For an instant, her heart stopped. A dreadful sight stood in her way. An innocent and isolated individual lay with his hand grasping for life, but it was already over. Taking a step back, she

Andrea sat in the break room, waiting for her shift to start at 8:30, her long, crisp black hair covered the back of the seat. Andrea had her face deep into paperwork but, then noticed Mary walked into the room and looked up, took off her glasses and wiped her forehead. Andrea’s porcelain skin, looked like it has barely seen any sunlight, or even touched. Mary and Andrea had most of the day piled up in paperwork, except for their breaks. At lunchtime, Mary added to her stories of sleepwalking into the forest, including the one early in the morning.

Lying on the ground in an unfamiliar place was all she knew besides the pain. Her body spasmed, rising from the ground, then crashing back down to cracked dry earth beneath the leaves and branches of an overgrown jungle; her head struck the tangled root of a bloodroot tree, a fresh wound opened at the base of her head and fed the surrounding forest that was hungry for blood. For food. For life.

In Anniston, Abra opened her eyes and drew a large, gasping breath. Rather than jewels, her tears resembled a steadily rushing stream. She held her neck gingerly, rubbing at it and at the same time attempting to conceal her injury from her parents. It was sore, and she knew it would hurt even more later.

We began our descent, and made our way to the camp. I stayed silent as my mind tried to sort through my surroundings. Everywhere someone was in need. With war raging in all directions and hunger and disease attacking those not injured in combat I felt small. How would my work or aid be big enough to actually make a difference? I walked to my tattered tent, bleak and down cast. I gently placed backpack on the dirt

Asami groaned in the darkness, the grogginess of her nap hanging over her like a storm-cloud. She stretched, splaying out across her bed, not quite sure which way the bedhead was facing, or whether or not she was still on her bed or simply curled up in her sheets lying on the floor. The alarm on her phone screamed through the room.

She faced lots of health issues during the hiding and she suffered from several sicknesses during this period. She suffered physically each season of year like in winter she suffered from cold, headache, loss of speech power. On the other hand, it was impossible to call any physician to treat her. Sometimes her brother went to doctor instead of her and explained himself as having all her troubles and pains. She tried to warm herself but it was not possible to fire in place where she was hidden. Because there was no passage for the gas, and it nearly cost her life. In summer, she was anguished by little red insects, well as a needle’s sign that pierced through her skin, and produced an unbearable burning. There was not enough light for her and