Senior Project Descriptive Writing

Her emerald eyes piercing through the room as she held her school bag loosely on one shoulder. Next was a darkly tanned girl, she very obviously looked Hawaiian with her long, wavy black hair cascading down over her shoulders and just past her bosom. Her chocolate colored orbs also scanning the room filled with new faces. She wore a lavender, sweater over her black undershirt, it falling slightly off her shoulders, a gray pleated skirt, black flats and a flower crown headband completing her look. At first glance they seemed happy to be there, but the more Evelyn looked there was just something offsetting about their searching eyes that were hidden behind their overexerted grins…

The apparition home had been sloppy, uncomfortable. The ash from the cigarette that had been trapped between her fingers just moments before still burned against the calloused skin of her fingers and down the back of her throat. Her first cigarette- and hopefully not the last. Provided by Moody, it had been the catalyst that propelled her from the party and back to her apartment. She always needed something- a push, a reason- to break free of the formalities; though insufferable, Alice needed nothing more than to be burned into their minds. If wining and dining the sloppily drunk and overly-perfumed elite was what it took, it was what she would do.

The only thing constantly in my head over the duration of my deployment was my wife. I may have been fighting for my country, but she’s the only reason why my mind still orders my muscles to strain themselves. Every time I slept, it was like she was actually with me and I could feel her soft touch that was more soothing than the ocean breeze on a ninety degree day back in Oregon. Well, at least when I was mentally able to sleep, which only came about three nights a week. Unlike a large number of the men on base, I hadn’t broken down yet. Not physically, not mentally. What I didn’t know, was that next time I woke up from a dream with my wife, and the next time I jumped up into the cockpit to fly an aircraft, would be the last time I was capable

When she picked up the slipper she felt compelled to put them on. Falling victim to her own desires she did. The slipper was a perfect fit she put on the other to see how they would look on her and to her surprise when she looked in the mirror she couldn’t believe her eyes. She found herself in an enchanting red dress with black gloves that went up to her elbows. Her black hair had been put in a lovely design. Her eyes had gone from a greenish look to a reddish glow even the slippers changed to fit her dresses look. She backed away from the mirror assuring herself that she had lost her mind. “Amazing isn’t it,” A voice said. Aliyah turned faster than she could blink to find where the voice came from. “Who’s there?” she said in a frantic tone. Suddenly she laid eyes on women more beautiful than her. “Fear not who I am, I will lay no harm to you,” she

She smiled as the refreshing breeze blew into her face, filling her nose with the sweet smell of her flowers. Maria Brown always enjoyed the cool mornings. She adored the sound of the bird chirping and feeling of the warm sunlight shining down her body, making her feel drowsy. But today was one of those days with too many things to do. The old Mrs. Brown looked like she was being controlled by invisible strings from above, only her puppeteer was drunk. She had that brilliant smile on her face, and her cheeks were faintly pink from all her excitement. She was getting a visitor today, her dearest granddaughter was coming to visit from the big city.

The clanking of half-empty tankards filled the room, and the reek of unwashed bodies was so overwhelming it made the eyes of newcomers water. Customers clumsily groped at waitresses passing by, only to grasp at empty air. A cloaked figure observed the room silently. He had only spoken to the owner: a smooth, cultured voice that descended as music to the ears. He felt dangerous. Being near him felt as though you were inside the eye, watching as the storm wall approached. Unstoppable and deadly, yet beautiful. The type of beautiful princesses fall for. So much unlike this gods-forsaken bar, which only accented his mysterious nature. He was out of place in this bar, or truly anywhere the girl could think of. She stood in the better lit portion of the room, waiting to be called to wait on the workers.

He first saw her in a coffeehouse in New Jersey, Cloveberry’s to be exact She was staring into her coffee cup intently, like she was remembering some distant memory. A soft smile graced her lips and he couldn’t help but to think just how beautiful she was. She had soft brown hair that had been pulled back messily and strands of it were falling out to frame her face perfectly. He remembers that she had been wearing a light blue sweater and a pair of Doc Martens. She suddenly looked up and her eyes met his. Her eyes were the bluest of blues, so blue that he could see them from across the room. She gave him a shy smile and then quickly looked away. Entranced, he got up and started walking towards her. As he approached, she looked up at him questionally.

The field is bright green. The ball is dark brown. I walk through the tunnel and listen to the crowd cheer. Booming, banging, and bashing of pads. The salty taste of sweat running down your lips. Put it together and create the world's best sport, football.

He could tell he was wrapping up, and walked to his office door, which led out into the lecture hall. At 6'3" he was an imposing figure - but his broad, white smile often disarmed even the most intimidated of students. He was surveying this semester's class, sizing up the group when he heard the door open; he turned his head and couldn't help but raise a brow as a familiar face appeared. He recognized her in an instant. As an English major, she'd been in a few of his classes - and, if he remembered correctly, did quite well. He'd always remembered her to be a pretty girl - but his honor kept his eyes from lingering too long. Now, however, he didn't feel any guilt in letting his greyish blue eyes watch her as she bounced down the steps - even in her casual outfit, he appreciated her simple

The sweetly, disgusting smell of vape juice filled the air and the sight of my new classes burned my eyes, but that wasn't the only problem. My new school was like a college campus, it had three schools about a hundred yards away from each other and the students had to walk between the buildings just to get to some of their classes, but that's only half of it. Being the newest, Plymouth High School was nice, but the problem with this school was that it was designed like a prison, not to mention it also felt like one. The oldest, Salem, definitely showed its age; the school colors were blue and white, but for some reason, the lockers were a nasty yellow with rust spots all over them, so in other words they looked like moldy cheese. Last but

Picture this, if you would: my feet shuffling nervously under the desk and an anxiously fluttering heart beneath my solid rib cage. Rehearsing my part over and over to the metronome of time, it seems as though I can hear each tick-tock of the clock as seconds pass. I smooth the creases and folds on my skirt, bite my thumbnail out of habit, fiddle with the pins that hold my hair high up on my head. It’s almost my turn to present, to become her. Several other students await with me for their turn at the podium, dressed up as a character, ready to become someone they are not, to prove they are the best. However, you must be confused, let me go back a bit earlier.

I finally wake up to my ear wrenching alarm clock. Gosh I hate that thing, it gets so annoying. I threw my blankets off of me to the foot of my bed with most of it on the floor. I got up and basically dragged my body to the bathroom. I turned on the shower to only find ice cold water, again since my mom keeps taking all the hot water. Once I took an ice cold shower, I wrapped a towel around my body and got out, with my dripping wet brown hair falling right in top of my shoulders. I went into my bedroom to face a 30 minute battle of trying to find what to wear for the day. After many fails I finally settled over a plain white tanktop with a florescent pink cardigan, light blue rolled up jeans and white vans.

Through the sky-high french doors, a glass chandelier hangs down from the fourth floor, complementing the Italian marble tiles. Ace stands in the corner of the room waiting for the sunlight to leave the room. His broad figure is outlined in the darkness. His red hair is gelled back, with curls tangled stylishly on the nape of his neck. Ada kisses his cheek and whispers in his ear. They both turn and set their coral eyes on Jamie. They look as if they’re mirrored twins. Ada runs to the staircase, hands gripping the banister as her Jimmy Choos leave behind a muddy trail. “I’m changing, I’ll be back my

I really don't care for this time of year. It's muddy, rainy, cold, warm, snow, sleet, sunny dry.You name it and we get it. Take yesterday it was sunny and 71 out . Loved it. Now today it's 45 and raining. Hate it. But that is what you get living in S.E. Indiana.

Her small, yet expressive, face is among her most lovely features. It’s something artists would draft when told to create the face of a perfect, untouched child. With gray-teal eyes that widen at the sight of nearly anything, a petite button nose, and pale rose lips that never shut, she has the ideal face of a human child. Naturally, her cheeks are plump as the corners of her mouth are always curling upward, even if just in the slightest. Her open mouth is filled with tiny teeth not yet lost to adulthood that she beams without reservation. Another captivating aspect of this beautiful tiny face is her eyes. Undoubtedly symmetrical, these windows tell so much about her youthful, blooming soul. Curly, graceful eyelashes -- which are unnaturally long for someone her age-- outline the oval shape like a cartoon drawing. The porcelain white of her eye beholds an ashy blue iris like a stormy ocean sky and a dark, enlarged pupil. The stories that the two orbs between her ears tell are endless. Sometimes, they widen in awe at a new discovery. On occasion, they scrunch together in protest to