Room 101 Creative Writing Coursework

The curiosities that revolve around this event infatuate me. The night of the occurrence I knew something was off, I was petrified. I lied awake that night trying to remove my mind from the agonizing fear that crippled me, giving myself countless alternative reasons for the sounds that rudely awoke me. This man that did this to me was not a stranger, I spoke to him many times throughout the week and he was consistently kind, maybe it was part of his plan, so I wouldn’t suspect it. He was a regular acquaintance that I consistently interacted with, to me he wouldn’t ever hurt a fly, but that night, seconds before my death, I saw alarmingly unfamiliar resentment from the way he looked at me. I knew the noises weren’t the crickets. I hoped that

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never seen the leader before or even heard of him to be honest.”

Turning off the TV, Andrew grabbed his keys and rushed to the garage, angry for not being more cautious. Driving down the street as fast as he could to get to the cleaners, he said, “I wonder if Margaret has her phone. I will call it,” he said, pushing the buttons, he waited, and said, “Oh, no; it went directly to voice mail. She must have turned it off, but why would she do that?”

There was a sense of impeding doom that turned my stomach. Although I couldn't bear to look at the mask I held outreach to you, my eyes were tempted to look to you. I side-swiped a glance at you before you took the mask. My eyebrow arched as you looked at me, visibly distraught. My eyes did a double take, and my gaze fell curiously back on you. I sensed a feeling of unease from you, and became immediately confused. “Your master never teach you Torture 101, Mr. Ren?” Although I was mocking you, there was a sense of concern in my voice, as I looked over to the Dug and then back at you. “You look like you've seen a ghos-” Holding out the mask in front of you, I watched you intently as your eyes fixated on the item. My eyes narrowed at that reaction, and suddenly, it made sense to me. Perhaps you had seen a ghost. Fully educated in the many various connections within the Force, I wondered if in this moment you had seen anything. If in this moment, his darkness had fallen on you. I pondered the horrors you had witnessed... and if any one of those horrors was my own. I wondered if it was pain you experienced, and even... if that pain was my own.

“Yes i have heard of him. He was the one who arrested me for robbing places around here.”

Jack looked up from the file to the tired eyes of the Lieutenant across the table. "Yes", he said. "I've heard of him."

The raspy wind rises in swirls, encircling the entirety of my lean body. The parched, coarse sand scrapes across my angular face, burying and scraping itself into the warmth of fresh, open wounds. The sun scorches my skin raw, condemning the violence, the blood, and the screams that seem to echo all throughout the lifeless mountain side. Welcome to Afghanistan. Bitter laughter fills my head.

"And had he ever said that same thing to you' if anybody asked you haven't seen him'?"

Al began blinking and waiting for his eyes to re-adjust to his dimly lit surroundings. After a few seconds he could make out a large black figure looming above his head.

I met with Linda from the writing center on 11/15/15 and here is the feedback that she provided.

Silent. At the edge of the sky there was a magnificent white patch, a turning page, catching the sun. The rest was ivory grey, with a subtle hint of mauve, just enough to announce the coming sunset. Scanning the horizon were the white cotton balls on cerulean satin, with a subtle layer of dove grey underneath, which was thin enough to let the light through. Stood there like a ghost, a silent observer of the venerable castle, and the clouds. The colossal mountains were shielding the inferior castle. Beyond the towering mountains was a decrepit, venerable and ancient castle like structure. The azure roof was coated and concealed by the thick opaque dust. The roof was as dusty as an abandoned warehouse floor. It was an elderly going paler as it got older and ancient. As I nonchalantly walked up the moaning narrow staircase, a thick mist of cold crisp air blew through me, rustling my hair and sending a chill down my spine.

I stared in horror – that wall was stained with gruesome blood stains. What the smell was became all too obvious and I felt the need to vomit… that motion put away and forgotten in an instant when the shuffling of feet rustled behind me. Panic. I turned around in a blur, my eyes huge and watering. My stomach stirred in the slightest. A lamp? Indeed, a tall standing lamp radiated a warm light only a few metres in front of me. Was it real or a figment of my abused mind? Curiosity would get the best of me, lending me a tiny spurt of energy to boost me on my feet. Teetering footsteps led me forward cautiously, random tremors reminding me of my weakness. The lamp was close enough to touch, its friendly warmth the only hope in the world to me. Basking in it for some slow seconds, I wondered, maybe there were more things in the room that hadn’t been revealed to the naked eye? Turning sharp on my heel, I let out a blood curdling screech as I came face to face with the most horrific thing I had ever seen. Huge fly-like eyes took in my paling complexion, and a lopsided smile of stinking razor sharp teeth mocked me. Rancid skin that looked like the algae layer that sat upon a swamp bubbled and oozed, trickling down a sharply shaped ‘face’. Flight or fight reaction chose the obvious option and I turned back again to run. Where, I did not

With another thoroughly unpleasant jolt, Seoyeon suddenly realised that the only reason she’d even become aware of his shadow was because the candles in all the chandeliers were now lit. Half scared out of her wits that he’d managed to sneak up on her so silently, Seoyeon sat frozen for several long moments. How had she not noticed him? He must have been there for a little while if all the chandeliers were now alight — how had she not heard him opening the door, or his footfalls on the wooden floorboards? They’d squeaked loudly under her feet, after all.

concentration away from the trees, which did not freak him at all, and continued his journey up the hill towards the house. Without hesitating, he unlocked the door and went in, as he went in the silent still sinister house, the door slammed shut behind him slowly the gloomy light started fading. A butler appeared from nowhere, he was holding his head under his arms like a ball in his hands. “Jeeves at your service, sir,” he said, creepily. “Follow me.” “Thank you, my good man,” said Titan excitingly, handing him his coat and following him up the creaking staircase without blinking an eye.

Chapter 7 was enlightening and the chapter I was able to relate with the most thus far. For example, one part of the text stated that educators and families often set low expectations for students with disabilities. I can relate to this personally. When I was in the IDEA program, my classes were rarely challenging and my teachers generally set low expectations for my peers and me. I believe the reason for this was to not stress the students or push them past their limits. However, my best teachers were those who did push me to my limits, so I could set a new limit the following semester.