The Midnight Trail Research Paper

The night’s sky was a foreboding glow, displaying the remnants of the chaos that proceeded on that very night. The air was calm and still, leaving no trace of the strong, mighty wind that had once seized it. Seeker Gawin and Annabelle emerge from the Great Fall forest, heading in the direction of the marketplace of the Masonburge Village with a bewildered first commander, who was heading back to the castle, passing them with his men riding a few feet behind. The people of the village have gathered in a somber mood, watching the last of the king’s men carry away bodies on one of their horses.

In 1860, less than one hundred years after the event in which it is based on, the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere was immortalized in a children’s poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The poem became an instant classic and is mostly remembered by the opening line, “Listen my children and you shall hear, of the midnight ride of Paul Revere.” Written at a time when the United States was on the brink of a Civil War, it made some accurate accounts of what happened that night however, it was a children’s poem therefore a lot of the events were distorted and dramatized. The most important being, Paul Revere was not alone on his “Midnight Ride” as the poem says. William Dawes Jr. and Dr. Samuel Prescott also rode with him that night. Whatever

Have you ever wonder why they built borders? Or who built them? Or who prevents and controls illegals from crossing, and what they do to accomplish them from crossing? In the book, The Devils Highway, by Luis Alberto Urrea defines the effects the desert has to offer for the immigrant’s entrance. The Devils High Way is a measureless desert past Mexico and Sonora, which is one of the most isolated and driest deserts in the U.S. This is a desert which few

Suicide can sometimes feel like the only way to pacify the pain. It is as if something is eating away parts of you slowly and intently and the only way to relieve the constant pain, is to die. Tiffany Hunter and Pierre L’errant are two very different characters with both equally unique yet queer personalities. Although Pierre and Tiffany are not the best of friends, their contrasting characteristics somehow complement each other. They both have similarities in their plans of suicide as well as differences that help them make the correct decision on where they want their life to go in future. Although they both made different decisions at the end, they assisted each other to settle on the right choice. Drew Hayden Taylor develops a theme of despondency and isolation from peers and loved ones in the novel “The Night Wanderer.”

She ran as fast as her feet could take her. The moonlight weaved in and out of the branches illuminating spots she could reach. She did not dare to turn back to look over her shoulder because she knew it is how the killer always got the victim. Her white slip teared when it got snagged against a branch. Her fingers gripped the silk material and held it together by the tattered seams. She quickly began her escape once more and found a clearing from the icy branches.

Mark stood outside the town’s gate, he looked back and knew he might not return. Mark turned, and he stepped on the rocky ground and began his journey not knowing what lay in store for him. The howling wind picked up, Mark walked in cold submission. He looked for shelter and he soon spotted a large forest line which looked dense and thick. Night was arising and the

The United Nations Children's Fund (UNICEF) is an international organization present in 190 countries (Unicef, n.d.). It is an agency focused on the area of maternal and child health. Recently, the organization is providing fresh water and food for mothers and children, education for mothers and girls, and immunization programs for children (Unicef, n.d.). The advantages for this program are the benefits to the education and health of the women and children, but the disadvantages are ability to retrieve funds all the time, and providing care to everyone. They have to have a focused topic, like they do, in order to start to care for the population. There are many issues in the third world countries that go beyond the abilities of one organization,

Sunset Riders is a side-scrolling Western style shoot-'em-up arcade game released by Konami. In this game, the player takes control of four bounty hunters who are seeking rewards for various criminals. One of the boss battles in this game is a Native American called Chief Scalpem, on Stage 6. He speaks in the stereotypical Native American dialect (“Me ready for powwow”; “Me powwowed out’). This stage also had Native American enemies in contrast to the regular bandits in the other levels. The Sega Genesis and Super Nintendo ports made a few relative changes from the arcade port. The Native American enemy characters from Stage 6 were removed and replaced with regular outlaws, leaving only Chief Scalpem (who is renamed Chief Wigwam

The night coats the air with darkness as we arrive. The only light is the warm glow of the headlights piercing through the thick blanket of the night, and the moon gazing down upon us. Click, our headlamps go on. We hop out the car, as a rush of whipping wind engulfs my face. The cold night air flows through the stitching of my clothes stealing the warmth from my body and sending chills down my spine. My friend and I search to find a campsite, like dogs searching for a buried bone. Walking, I can feel the crisp grit of sand shifting beneath my feet and hear the wind flowing like a river through the trees. Down the worn path, we hang our hammocks and start to gather firewood. Sounds of machetes striking branches fill the woods echoing

Her long brown hair tied back in tight bun and brown dirty dress and matching wool jumper that is two sizes too big. She heads down towards the running creek the bank starting to flatten. Dead trees creating hurdles and the thrones pricing her numb feet. The slug becomes deeper as she get closer to the water. Animals in the night scratching and yelling, light hitting her left shoulder… ‘RUN’. The only way out is the creek and he is getting closer the water reaching her lower back sending shivers up her spine. Wading through the water she sees it. The bag and the world has gone dark again silent and serine she scrambles up the other side of the bank pulling the bag with her. A big oak fallen about 15 Meters away she knows by the unsettling silence he’s not far away. Pulling the bag on her damp back she crawls to the hollow tree and lays down behind it. She holds her breath for what feels like fifteen minutes not moving a single tired muscle in her body. After about half an hour more of twilight and damp forest floor she realises he’s given up. Not for good but defiantly for

The curved, blue-white blade of the moon pointed down at the smaller trail for a split-second, and Will darted for the white mirage. His fear kept his feet beating at the ground like the wings of a hummingbird, and soon he couldn't make out the warriors' fire through all the trees. The track turned to the left, and the rush of the river stopped receding from Will's eardrums. He set himself against a dark oak tree, trying to silence his breath and scan for anyone who might have followed him, but his body would not comply. Will allowed himself a minute or two of reprieve, but remained anxious, as he knew that the falling snow couldn't possibly fill in his careless footfalls by sunrise. He had to reach the edge of the forest well before then if

It was dark. No city lights were visible from the forest trail; the only light source was the dim light of the crescent moon in the clear night sky. A lone hiker walked down the trail in the night. The trail was nothing but a pale brown streak that wound through the endless canopy of trees. Leaves glistened with droplets of water that shimmered in the silver moonlight. Water soaked earth soiled and froze one's feet with coarse sandpaper like dirt and icy water. All was quiet except for the constant sound of sloshing from the wet ground. New scenes of trees, more trees, and an occasional body of water appeared in the distance ahead and dissolved quietly into the darkness behind. Still nothing made a sound except for the ground which sloshed when stepped upon. The smell of fresh pine and sage permeated the cold night air.

Together, they reached the metal fence that is guarding the mysterious woods, Nelson pushed it opened and it made a loud creaking sound that echoed miles down the forest. Slowly, they entered the mysterious woods as the​ ​July​ ​orange​ ​sun​ ​is​ ​waving​ ​goodbye​ ​and​ ​sinking​ ​down​ ​behind​ ​the​ ​tall​ ​green​ ​pine trees,​ ​later​ filling ​the​ ​sky​ ​​with​ ​a crystal​ ​white​ ​light​ ​by​ ​the​ ​full​ ​moon.​ ​The​ ​moon casts down ​​a stream of light which created a​ ​path of light​ ​​in the dark​ ​forest.Peggie grabbed onto Nelson’s arm when she heard ​an old,​ ​black​ ​crow​’s crackled old song that is bouncing off from tree to tree. The two friends wandered through the woods with the sounds of crunching dead leaves and snapping of the twigs. A field of grey color flowers was insight, but, they remember seeing photos that were once a vibrant yellow, red and orange, but now, they see lifeless petals on the on the laying ground. With flashlights in hand,casting light on a huge cobweb with a big, blood red, and black spider eating the latest prey that got caught in the stickiness of the web. Then, a sudden chill washed over them that was colder than a dead person’s breath. As the arctic wind continued to blow Peggie shivered, Nelson noticed it and he gave Peggie his jacket to

The eerie wood, where we entered, was a bit scary to me. It was an umber-brown, aged forest covered by a damp, cheerless atmosphere. In fact, it was a foggy night. The air was cold and with every breath I drew a misty, chilly exhale followed. The source of light could be seen for miles of trail were several small led lights, which were lying along trailside. Those were helping people didn’t get off the trail and went too deep into the forest. Even though I could feel the unevenness of the old mining trail beneath me, it was smooth in contrast to the crunching of the odd dead leaf that I stepped on. As I looked around I noticed, although it was windless day, trees in the forest still seemed to be waving and enticing us into the darkness. The

Twilight segued into a blanket of soft obsidian darkness as Allie lay there feeling alone and helpless. Outside her door, the city began to come to life as lamplighters lit the gas lamps along the Battery. It was so quiet in the house that she could hear someone several blocks away in the midst of a fracas. They argued back and forth for a few minutes and then became quiet. A little while later, ribald laughter wafted through the streets from the bars and eateries near the wharf, hearing others laughter and happiness only saddened her more. For hours, she lay there wondering, worrying, what if- what if the Yankees caught Thomas, or what if something else happened to him. What if she never saw or heard from him again- could she go on with her life? At that moment in time, she did not know that she could…