School Night - Original Writing

It’s a quiet, Sunday afternoon. The rain is coming down outside, and the sound of it makes for a relaxing ambiance. You open a few windows and the front door to better enjoy the calming effect of the rainfall. Going into the kitchen, you decide to make a cup of coffee so you can sit down and read the Sunday paper. Suddenly, a man bursts into your home carrying a small pistol and comes running towards you. You manage to shut the kitchen door and go through the pantry into your hallway. Running up the stairs, you turn around and see the man coming up behind you. You make it to your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you, running to get to your cell phone in your backpack. Much to your dismay, you realize it is downstairs in the living

Upon my arrival, I spoke with Samuel Earle and his girlfriend Makayla Haut, who advised that his friend Mathew Calder had been assaulted by his neighbors Branden Collins, Robert Collins, and several other unknown subjects. Samuel stated that Amanda Collins was also at his residence with possibly her boyfriend who assisted in assaulting Mathew. Samuel stated that Mathew was inside his residence and was not doing well physically. I followed Samuel inside his residence and observed a white male identified as Mathew Calder, who was sitting on the couch, with blood on his facial area. I also

Night is an autobiographical novella written by Elie Wiesel a young jewish boy who tells of his experiences during the Holocaust. Elie is from the small town of Sighet, Transylvania. This book begins in late 1941 and chronicles Elie's life through the end of the war in 1945.He had two older sisters, Hilda and Beatrice Wiesel and a younger sister, Tzipora Wiesel. Elie spoke many languages including Hungarian, Romanian, German and he grew up

“Mr. Josten, Mr. Josten!” yelled one of the eighth graders from my current math class in Crescent Middle School. I figured it would be another out of context question, as that was the norm for Andrew. Andrew had always seemed to be the one who tried his hardest, but could not focus on his schoolwork, or anything for that matter. I acknowledged his raised hand to hear, “what would happen if someone figured out how to pass things through time?” I figured since there was a small amount of time left in the class period, I could answer his question thoroughly since I majored in both math and science. “Well Andrew, if I had to guess I would say that someone would receive that object unexpectedly in a different time period. However, if someone creates

One day, I walked upstairs to my warm third grade class at John Stewart Elementary school. As I started my morning work, which usually included math, that was on my desk, my teacher, Mrs.Biddle announced, "Today we are going to pick table names!"

In reading, Night by Elie Wiesel and A Man's Search For Meaning by , many stories of the torturous life in the concentration camps during the second world war. In each book, the reader gets a different point of view from each book because in Night, you get to read about a teenager's view and in the book, A Man's Search For Meaning, you get to read about a middle aged man's view. In the book, Night, Elie, his family and his community go through a system of indoctrination which in each step it makes you seem less and less of a human. The first step is that the Hungarian police made all the Jewish people wear yellow stars, so they could be picked out easily. The next step is that all the Jewish people had to get rid of all their valuable

About halfway through the day Kullan and his friend Jake were drowning in pop tarts during lunch. As they walked back to their classroom, a sense of disquietude fell over the hallway. No more than half a second later there were sounds of gunshots and screaming coming not too far from where the children were standing. A teacher Kullan saw a couple days ago came sprinting around a corner, she stopped long enough for him to notice that there was fresh blood stained on her shirt. Kullan was in such shock he didn’t hear the teacher tell them to run, He was jolted back to reality by a quick shake from Mr. Metten. Mr.

The cold winter breeze is penetrating my skin; I feel the chill in my bones and start to shiver out of control. As I am lying down in the lawn of my home, all I can see is parts of the garden in the moonlight. I gather my last bit of strength and get up to knock the front door of my home again. There is still no response from my father. Hunger is driving my actions as I try to break-in and fail again and again. With no other options left I decide to go break the window near the door with a stone and try to open the door from the inside. After breaking the window, I can see my mother is still lying down in the floor and I try shouting to wake her up. There is no response from her at all. I feel the dizziness spreading in my head. As I try to unlock the door through the window opening, I feel the lights shutting down inside me and I fall down to the

Details: We got a call at 8:15 AM about mysterious gunshots going off in the house of John Doe. We headed to 4th street to find out what was going on. The police had already been there and described that John Doe is dead. I walked through the door of the house and saw there were multiple footsteps from the officer, and multiple people that had already been

I never thought that I would be standing here today, looking at this blood bath, knowing that someone who was so close to me could do something like this. I have solved a lot of crimes in my day, I’ve seen things that most people should never see. But this I knew would stick with me for the rest of my life. I had first arrived at the scene of the crime before a one else. I was going to wait for backup, but I knew I had to do this alone. I got out of my patrol car and headed up the front porch steps with my gun drown. The front door was wide open. I walked inside and immediately saw a woman lying face down in her own blood. I stepped over here and continued investigating. I heard a gunshot come from upstairs and I quickly hid behind the stairwell.

When I was younger, I wanted nothing more than to dance under the moonlight and follow the fireflies out into some incredibly unexplored land. The night was for sleepovers and camping, secret bike riding and exploring- the moon was my mother and the stars my siblings. I used to lay in the grass and stare up, up, up into that endless sky intrigued by its mystery, longing to know the depths from which it spurred. The dark would tuck me in at night like the blanket it was, and I lived happily in the fact that I was a child and knew very little of it’s secrets.

Saturday Night Light Shadows inhaled the poison light, as a finch crossed my eye path and in the moment seemed suspended before me: its small feet almost baggy beneath knotted plumage. I saw myself traverse the cosmos on a curve of time like the moon’s arrant eating when it is rising; how its glow tangos at last on the eyelids. Settling into the reiteration of evening making this one place the spot where you were. Hope is all the sap that runs downhill following that old path as water might, with its innate grace to become affixed to any one place, as a delicate vine or a ballerina floating on a toe.

World War II and the diseased mind of Hitler were the factors the led to the Genocide. People who were not the superior race in Hitler’s opinion did not deserve to live. Jews were the target of the extermination. To establish his plan Hitler created Concentration Camps, where people were forced to work. Those that were considered useless became fuel for the gas chambers and crematory. Hitler’s long term goal was to wipe out all the Jews. In the novel, Night, by Elie Wiesel, the author retells the unforgettable hardship and suffering that he goes through while he is in the concentration camps. In this novel, Elie helps us realize and visualize the brutality and madness of the camps and SS officers. His struggle for survival and the horror

The night hadn’t lasted all that long. It was dark, and the sky was illuminated with thousands of bright-white dots, scattered infinitely across the dimensions. There was a faint smog amidst the surroundings. It carried the smell of those gone. Death, disease, and grief were all bundled within each molecule of the smog; it thoroughly choked the corners of the camp. Within this smog, however, was a faint smell. A very distinct smell – to me, at least – that could be sensed from thousands of miles away. It was so omnipresent to me that I could see it leave from near me, approach me from behind, and even warn me when something I’d say were ill-timed. Her name was Yehadi.

I can remember as a child going on vacation with my whole family. All my cousins in one house, it was a great time until night time. We all would camp out in the living, our parents would tuck us in and then it was off to bed. Sleeping peacefully until one of my cousins woke us all up screaming while she was sleeping. Night after night we had to deal with this. The following year I as well as all of my cousins anticipated the same thing. Peacefully sleeping only to be awaken in the middle of the night by shears of horror. But to all of our surprise my cousin sleep peacefully all the way through the night every night.