The Story Of Metcalf

Entry #7: “Years earlier, I had run through these same woods with all my might, looking for safety, trying to get away from campus. Tonight, I ran through

I peered around through the rain, desperately searching for some shelter, I was drowning out here. The trouble was, I wasn’t in the best part of town, and in fact it was more than a little dodgy. I know this is my home turf but even I had to be careful. At least I seemed to be the only one out here on such an awful night. The rain was so powerfully loud I couldn’t hear should anyone try and creep up on me. I also couldn’t see very far with the rain so heavy and of course there were no street lights, they’d been broken long ago. The one place I knew I could safely enter was the church, so I dashed.

He turned to the streets, begging for scraps of food or clothing, trying to find some way to support himself. Those years of his life had seemed like a dark abyss in which he was trapped. He could see the sunlight above, but he had no way to reach it. He still remembered the looks of disgust and fear upon people’s faces as he crawled to them and begged for help. They would pull their children closer and cross the street as they neared him, or walk straight past him with their eyes fixed ahead, unfazed by his pleas. After some time, he lost hope. As the rich merchants and fine clothed women passed, he said nothing, curled up in a ball on filthy, tattered blankets, starved and cold, flea bitten and depressed. He had feared for a time that he was on the brink of insanity, and had taken to talking to the stones on the street to while away the lonely hours. He remembered hoping he would simply pass in his sleep during the night to escape his never-ending

At last the woman punched him straight in the jaw and he flew in the air five feet and landed hard, I heard a CRACK as his spine broke when he hit the floor.

You constantly turned things over in your mind. You rummaged through awhile before you actually continued. Oh, Myra, you followed, and waited for the opportune time to approach him, didn’t you? You ached for a ceasefire between your

I sprinted up the stairs, taking no time to stop for breakfast. I had to make it to the factory by 5 or I’d be beaten. The fear of punishment gave me extra speed as I ran out the door into the smoggy darkness. As I ran, I tied back my long blonde hair with the ribbon tied around my wrist. I ran down the cobblestone street, careful not to step in any of the piles of mud. The streets were devoid of carriages, anybody rich enough to own a horse wasn’t getting up this early. The only people I shared the streets with were other children and adults going to work.

The moment he turned a corner, and was absolutely sure that Sheila could no longer see him, Eric broke into a sprint. He didn’t exactly know where Sarah was, but there was this… feeling, this weird pressure behind his nose that told him he couldn’t waste any more time. It made his legs move of their own accord, tearing through the cobbled streets going this way and that.

Unfortunately George was headed back to see me at this point, I ran directly into him. He was calm, he must have been, he had been to ill and exhausted to be otherwise. I must have seemed as though I was calm for I could not do much other than to stand there, still as a winter’s tree lacking the bustle of summer leaves. Though the tireless thoughts in my mind were all but silent. I wanted to break free in search of Tom and the happy, carefree life fleeing to the west with him would promise. I want to scream, I wanted to fall into an infinite silence, I wanted to Run, I wanted to drop on th spot. We stood there, frozen in time for what seemed like an eternity, I’m not certain to what I said that made him let go of his grasp, but he did and not a second later, I lunged away. The sour smell of gasoline surrounded me, I didn’t take in much more than the yellow stand and faint glow of the street lamps. I did not have a plan, but I had an end goal; reaching that elegant white mansion along the shores of East Egg. A yellow car sped by emerging from the depths of a navy coloured darkening sky. I had seen that car earlier in the day, I had seen that car and who was driving it. In a desperate strive for attention I threw myself in front of the oncoming vehicle. A blinding light overwhelmed my

The loud pub turned like a funeral, deadly quiet. The eyes of the crowd toward me were like the blade of a knife; it felt like all of them knew that I was the thief. I lied the whole thing about Paul and the money to Jack and his friend. I was sprinting like a car with missing a brake trying to run away from the

He had already packed everything he wanted to take with him, but left most of his possessions unpacked as he feared it would be a reminder of his previous life. As he was packing his items into his car, his neighbor Mr. Lauterbach came outside and noticed Arthur packing his things. “Hello Mr. Raeburn!” Greeted Mr. Lauterbach. “Why are you packing up your things?” Arthur was caught by surprise at first, he hadn’t thought about being seen by his neighbor. “I’m packing for a road trip,” lied Arthur, “I’ll be staying at a log cabin up north for a few days.” “I see. Well, I don’t want to be late for the bus now, so I’ll talk to you some more when you get back from your vacation!” Said Mr. Lauterbach. He started walking down the sidewalk towards the bus stop, and Arthur began packing quicker so he wouldn’t be caught by anymore people. After packing his things, Arthur got into his car, and started it. Pulling out of his driveway, he took a deep breath, knowing that this would be the last time he would see the town he grew up in. He began driving down the street, seeing everybody he pass smile and wave at him. However, he didn’t smile or wave back, as he had already abandoned his old life and began his new one. After he got out of town, he realized something. His depressing old life is nothing but the past; therefore, so are his sad memories. He had no reason to be sad anymore and felt something he hasn’t felt in ages, and that feeling is happiness. Nobody has heard from Mr. Raeburn

“Hey! We missed one. Where do you think you’re goin’? Get back here!” I hadn’t thought this through. I should’ve stayed hidden. I ran and ran until I clumsily tripped over the branch that had fallen from the tree. I fell to the ground, and my vision became blurry. I was going home.

(Kevin. p. 91.) They ran and ran for their lives. That was what they did to survive. It left the readers sitting on the edge of the chair hoping that they would survive.

The street was eerily quiet as I crossed. So was Mike. Staring at me unwaveringly, he said nothing as I approached. The crow's feet framing his eyes, the ridges in his forehead, and the crinkles in his cheeks still stand out in my mind. How many nights had he lain on that bench, covering his face as the wind whipped against it? Now he hugged his body tightly. He was wearing an old pair of tan khakis, a shirt that I couldn't see clearly, and a light multi-colored jacket, its sleeves ending above his pale wrists, that was just slightly too small and clung to his body. As I gave him the money in my wallet, he took it--slowly--and stared at it for a second in disbelief. Although the street in front of the library is usually an amalgam of car horns, headlights, whining engines throughout the night, nothing--not

Within every 20 steps he would hear someone call out an enthusiastic, “Aye Enzo” to which he’d reply, “What’s good my man?” Enzo was walking about with his confident stride, looking around and enjoying the bustle of New Yorkers around him when he saw her. He was completely awestruck, he had never seen anyone like her. She was looking around the city with such sheer curiosity that adventurous wonder radiated off of her. Her hair was the color of lavender, he could practically smell the lavender from down the street, it made him feel at peace. Yet, at the same time his heart felt like it was beating harder and harder with every thump thump, as if it were trying to jump straight out of his chest and run towards her. Enzo strained his neck to keep her in sight, but a swarm of heads were in his way, the bustle that he once admired seemed to annoy him. He didn’t want to see anyone but her, talk to anyone but her, or be around anyone but her. She seemed to consume his mind and the entirety of his being, but just as soon as she had appeared, she was

“Come on big guy!” I said as I ushered Journey upstairs. As he struggled to get up the stairs onto his designated spot, it scared me that he went from being an energetic, hyper dog into this.I didn’t know how to feel, I just felt like a shell, empty,emotionless, lost on an island where I’ve never been, alone. I had not the slightest idea what to do and that gave me a sense of hopelessness. I sat down, next to