Pathway's Descriptive Essay: The Cause Of Death

Smoke billowed into the air, shrouding everything in darkness. The village homes, once lively and full of love, now are demolished and engulfed in the flames of death. The dragon spewed bright orange inferno which devoured everything in its path. The beast, flying in and out of the blanket of darkness, displayed its wings that obscured the stars, which normally radiated incandescent light. Villagers could see that it would not stop until their whole world was reduced to ash. Light from the fire illuminated the creature’s hateful face; its scales shadowed with the color of ripe plums, glowed violet in its luminous destruction, eyes beaming a malevolent crimson, specks of gold in the iris flicked like the treasure it so viciously collected. Its scornful intentions could be seen in the reflection of the conflagration it had so wickedly constructed.

mother’s death I can remember everyone who was in the stands that day...” This reference to the narrator’s vivid memory and the detailed depiction of the event shows the gravity of the situation and allows the reader to fully grasp the impact that the accident had on both the protagonist and the narrator. This act of bizarre violence is used masterfully in the author’s recount of his life. It shows how hard it is for a young boy to lose the only parent he ever knew and it also shows how hard it is for a child to be implicated in an event where someone close to the child has been unintentionally killed.

The smell of burning flesh is repugnant. It lingers on every street corner, on every piece of cloth, in every shallow breath. The sky is red. Glowing through black clouds that are heavy with the ashes of those who have stopped screaming. More than three thousand tonnes of high explosive bombs are dropped. Again. Again. Again. Just like dust caught in a sunbeam, the ash swirls a slow descent. The air pulls in. Pauses. Pressure building. The blood in your veins almost recoils, your brain bruised in your skull. A moment of vertigo. Then nothing but noise. Loud. Angry. Ringing. And pain, so much pain. Screams rise, the crescendo approaches. Hellfire rips through the buildings, the sky, the people, your heart. This city is a firestorm.

People shrieked as they watched their very city collapse into ashes as it . Through the ashes there were huge metal bodies, with red bloodshot eyes gleaming at the side of all the destruction, bodies made of steel towering over the remains with smirks stretching across their faces, “This is the end,” they all repeated. Carnage.

The author helped me understand by saying the explosions effect on people. Like how the author singled out one person, which helps the reader sympathies the people better. It was told through what happened to Noble, what Noble saw, and how Noble lost a family member.¨The shock wave lifted Noble into the air. He landed, unconscious, near Richmond School. For about 10 minutes, black rain fell-a sludge of benzol residue, molten pieces of the Mont-Blanc, and other debris. When Noble came to, he saw that most of the buildings were gone. His jacket had been blown off. His skin was blacken by the rain. Shards of glass stuck of glass stuck in his hair. I mean can you imagine waking seeing black rain falling, glass in your hair after becoming unconscious for 10 minutes?

The smoke left my mouth and rose into the starry Dynamo of the machinery of night. The warm ember at my fingertips faded into a long cinder of ash like the last cities of man. The burning cars emitted warm yellow light lit the dense fog blanketing the cracked pavement below, and provided the only blanket that would be on anything tonight. I bleakly looked into the distance toward the steel stained horizon. It seemed the city was ebbing - as if the last memory of civilization was receding into the past, never to be seen again.

It was a horrible sight. Clouds of smoke and ash filled the air above the city; half of Rome had already burnt down, and the fire was still going. The red glow looked fierce and deadly, for indeed it was. We knew there were many people trapped inside the city to fall as helpless victims to the fire, just like a prisoner in a flooding jail; with no way to escape. As I finish this diary entry, we are about to head off again, for the town of Anguillara, which is no more than twenty miles away. Our family is planning to find somewhere to stay there, possibly to live. However, one thing is certain; my life will not be the same ever

Then suddenly, a stronger sooty sensation filled John’s nose. His eyes mirrored the flaming cross outside the bus. Frantically spitting on the glass, the white figures shook the bus. Their pitch forks scraped against the bus creating a sharp screech. They shake their fists. Beginning to break, the protestors cry. John remained resolute. A sludge of gasoline is poured around the bus by the furious mob. More black smoke entered the bus, causing John to cough extremely. “Stay low!” John commanded. He could taste the sooty smoke in his mouth. The protestors in panic, scatter around the bus. Windows begin to shatter. Shards of glass flew through the air as the mob’s wrath struck the windows of the bus. Outside the bus, the gasoline became alive. It breathed its smoky breath into the bus. Black fog clouded the mobs vision, as it swallowed more and more of the white figures. Frailly, John crawled towards the broken door. He smashed the door down with his bare hands. Gasping for air, his lungs filled with smoke. His eyes stinging. His spirit broken. He looked back at his teammates. It was as if death was outside the bus; they were crying on the ground. Roars of the flame intensify as the bus set on fire. Additional enraged black fog spread further apart, making the white figures cough severely. In the bus, the agonizing screams stop. Steadily the flames crept closer and closer to John. A burning sensation on the skin of his face. Surrounded by red flames John kept still. Shutting his eyes, he thought to himself; it’s over. On the spur of the moment he heard a sudden tapping against the roof of the bus. It was raining. Desperately crawling through the dampened flames, His heart thumped faster as he hoped to escape. Painfully thrusting his slightly burnt legs into the ground, John managed to stand up. The black plumes continued to sting his eyes. The furious mob still standing, also couldn’t see through the

This arising tone of regret and distance is also formed by the speaker’s depiction of his father having “cracked hands that ached,” (1. 3) which further signifies the father’s struggle with the severe coldness. The concept of self-sacrifice is apparent in this portrayal of his father’s disregard to his own pain in order to provide warmth and light for his family’s home. The stirring of “banked fires blaze” (1. 5) within the house,

“Between nine and ten p.m. ashes began to fall, and soon after a violent whirlwind ensued, which blew down nearly every house in the village of Saugar, carrying the tops and light parts along with it.

“I failed to see to the burial of my family. They rot where they fell, the rats crawling from corpse to corpse. Fearing death myself, and knowing it is coming for me, too, I ran from home to home on our street and where there were the dead I took what coins I could find and stored them in my purse. A boy about my age lay swollen on the floor of one fine house by the port—his father was a merchant, I think—and I took his coat you see here, very fine, and washed the fluid that comes with death from the fabric in the sea.

The moon rose over the ruins of the village, bathing the roads in an eerie silver glow. Destroyed buildings, some with fires still burning within, littered the town. The old architecture crumbled to the ground, no longer able to hold itself up. The wind whipped fiercely across the battered landscape. Silence echoed throughout the rubble, not a single person in sight. The inky darkness of the night slowly became more pronounced as time moved forward.

The sister prepares the evening meal, making her contribution to the family; and calls on the boy to come and eat. The saw in the boy?s hands was still running and when he took his attention away from his work, and that split second of carelessness cost him an extremity. His instincts raised his arm upward to keep all the blood from spilling out immediately. When he realized what was happening, the boy finally realized he was to young to be doing a man?s work. The boy ?saw all spoiled,? and now knew his whole childhood had vanished and it was impossible to get it back. The boy frantically called out to his sister to make the doctor keep his hand on. The boy?s body must have instantly gone into shock and not felt the absence of the hand. When the doctor arrived he gave him some ether to make him go to sleep. The little boy began to lose his pulse and soon he was a stranger to the world. The people surrounding the boy never expected the loss of his hand to tragically end the little boy?s life. Frost?s almost appalling casual description of death shocks the reader enough to make them think. ?Since they were not the one dead, turned to their affairs,? describes the environment of the survivors. They are forced to move on with their life and keep working because they cannot afford to stop and mourn.

This contributed to many a belief that the fire that paved the way for a rebuilding of a new, more grandiose city was a gift from God. To paint a picture before the fire of London, Tinniswood called London smoke polluted with deformed buildings, so much so that the magistrate would not warrant any extreme haste when fire, which was common among a town full of old wooden buildings, happened there (11). Furthermore the industries in London polluted the air (12). It is easy to picture how lowly and poverty stricken the pre-fire London really was.

Skyscrapers burned uncontrollably. The flames shooting out from their windows like a blast furnace. Thick black and billowing smoke puffed its way skyward from the structures like the coal smoke from an old steam locomotive. Piles of rubble clogged up the roadways making escape from the island impossible.