What Italian explorer Amerigo Vespucci coined "The New World" was now overrun by man-eating zombies. It all started in Chile and Argentina; news of a highly infectious pathogen had begun spreading at breakneck speeds. By the time epidemiologists had discovered the cause of this pathogen it had already spread to the Western half of the United States and was making its way east.
The object given to me was the heart of a boy who I was fond of for quite some time. We spent the summer nights frolicking through green pastures of open land ready to take on the world like an explorer ready to find a new adventure; now what I look back on to be no more than a barren field filled with patches of weeds poking their heads above ground, hoping to catch even the smallest array of sunlight. I spent most of my summer nights with this boy, let us call him James.
The sound of the rain landing hard onto the frozen soil was always a nice one. It accompanied me just staring straight into nothingness. It felt great, as if I was just focused on one thing, the “1000 mile stare”. I was on the verge of falling asleep, but at the same time there was no way I was going to. The stare was great, much too addicting. However, there was one thing I hated though. It was the fear that I could get stuck in it. That nothing else would happen in this god forsaken world If I just gazed into 1 thing...for a long period of time. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad thing? People would stop dying and the world would finally be at peace. I finally leave the 1000 mile stare for a second, just to look in another direction and focus
Walking home from school one day, I looked at the ruins that lay around me: houses, offices, roads, all destroyed because of the war. I wondered why it started. The war had been going strong for three years, and didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon. Brushing away my thoughts, I noticed an old lighthouse beside the ocean. Jogging towards it, I wondered why I had never seen it before. It looked ransacked, with both doors kicked in and the windows at the top shattered. I began to get a bad feeling about going closer, but shrugged it off and started to look inside.
The blinding light advanced with terrifying speed. Like a massive wave that would soon overtake him.
Quite some time had passed since the twins had left their village, with no luck whatsoever. They ran out of food a long way back and they had no money, they were lucky enough to get a ride in the back of a caravan heading toward the town of Acrine. Claude looked outside with a feeling of homesickness. He could only guess how far away home was. Dozens of miles? Hundreds? Thousands? Who could tell? The boy wrapped his cloak around himself tightly to try and banish the cold from his skin. He’d hoped to make at least a tiny bit of progress before the Time of Changing. There never seemed to be enough time between seasons. The caravan came to a slow stop.
One casual Wednesday afternoon, I was back in 5th period with Mrs. Zombottle just reading away in my wonderful mystery book. She came up to me in a quiet fashion, “Are you busy?”
There are many people in this world today and only a select few, it seems, are willing to risk their lives and stand on the front line for their country. Many people that talk about this topic may ask why this is. The answer is, only those few people have
The King rose from his chair, dabbing the corner of his mouth. “It was?” he utters, his gray eyes void of expression. “The pie I had was divine. You do not know what you’re missing,” he comments, setting down his napkin. He catches a glimpse of the Taster’s body. “Oh, such a shame,” he voice, matter-of-factly.
On occasion, I wish I’d been a fairytale. Once upon a time I was born, and happily ever after I lived. But with reality staring me in the face, it was more obvious than not that the world didn’t work that way. Many are blinded by the “it gets better” phrase, chasing some sort of Utopia. How naive I was to imagine a world so big had nothing to hide. From an adolescent age, I learned that very lesson. Brought into this world with a cushion. Not a physical being, but a mental one. A seed planted in my head by my parents, pushing me to believe that all you needed was love. I cannot say I love them for this, but I can’t say I hated their proposition entirely. Early into my childhood my mother grew ill, later dying on my fourth birthday. This was a
As I walked behind a red bricked wall thru a gigantic hole, there was a whole different world. A world of imagination, magic, and creativity, walking into this small little town I notice the smell of brewing butter beer, which made my mouth watered on the other hand while looking thru old chipped painted windows and seeing chocolate frogs, as well as Bertie Botts jelly beans, made my mouth water even more. Moving on, I looked up I saw dark yellow, pink, and blue crooked buildings with windows full of darkness. Shifting myself to a different position I saw a slanted cream color column with a narrow door, above the doorway carved in stone, it said Gringotts Bank at the top
Their world is full of beauty and danger: the wild lushness of the Tasmanian forest, the rolling power of the sea. In the opening chapter, Harry has an almost shamanistic sense of oneness with the natural world that surrounds him: he feels the sea to be part of him; he empathises with a lone cormorant as his brothers surf. He finds an ancient shell midden on the beach and is overcome with a strong sense of mortality and connection with the long-gone first people of the
The odor of the meal was as delectable as the food itself. It consumed the original scent of the house and warmed up the entire room. This same maid set the table and placed the utensils in place and meekly left the room.
The monks came running into the kitchen in their nightshirts. Dom Bernard calmly issued orders. The four sitting at the table were ordered to stand. Four of the monks sat at the table with the bread, cheese, and beer in front of them. The pounding and yelling continued. Dom Bernard ordered Cédric and Dorian to take Saban and Elisaveta to the cellar.
My personal mission is to be the best I can be, to leave this world with no regrets and to be remembered as someone who was extraordinary. I want to change people's lives for the better and to strengthen people at their weakest point. At the end I want to leave knowing I touched people’s lives and left the world a better place. I want to leave my mark on this world and be remembered, that I did everything I could. I gave it my all. That I made a difference and the world will know, I was here.