Worker B5-8-9-2 Reporting

    After the narrator’s ‘clean up’ he heard a knock from three police officers who got a call about a scream from the house. They asked to search the house and asks some questions, the narrator felt fine and let the officers in. The narrator took the officers to each room and even sat down in the bedroom to sit and discuss about the scream. “I soon wished that they would go. My head hurt and there was a strange sound in my ears. I talked more, and faster. The sound became clearer. And still they sat and talked.” The narrator was being a little cocky about his clean up and thought he was in the clear, but was getting annoyed for how long the officers were staying for. Soon the narrator started to hear the soft ticking sound he once swore against. The narrator started to grow paranoid from this sound and soon began to snap. “Suddenly I knew

Purpose: As one of the mandatory requirements of the MBA Co-op program, this report allows you to reflect on your past work term and provide information to other co-op students who are interested in working with your employer.

The low ceiling cowered above and the black plastic chairs formed a restless crowd around me. From my seat, I could smell the acute scent of cleaning fluid, whiteboard markers, and the nauseating perfume of the girl sitting next to me. Like so many other students, she exuded concentration. Her brows were drawn as her hand moved rapidly over the testing booklet, only pausing to reposition herself or cast an almost imperceptible sidelong glance. The effortlessness of her actions furthered my anxiety as I began tapping my foot uneasily against the speckled linoleum floor. Through the dusty shades that hung precariously in front the only window in the room, I could see the outline of a solitary building shadowed by the dense gray fog that clung to the courtyard outside. At that moment, I would have given anything to be able to run and scream at the top of my lungs. I had an inexplicable urge to break free from the confinement of that room and what it

The bell signalling the end of second period hadn’t sounded, yet. Or maybe it had.maybe she missed it amidst the screams. She wondered if it was all over, perhaps somewhere in a distant corner of the school, students and teachers rejoiced and hugged each other knowing there was nothing left to fear. No matter how quite it was outside fear still rushed through her body, mentally and physically. She knew she couldn’t get up. Fear had paralysed her. She had fled the library and fled her way through the southern hallway when it began. The hall was infused with kinetic horror. An aimless frenzy of kids and adults bound in a reckless pack of mass confusion, like and ant hill being washed away with a hose. No new knew what to do. They just ran. Lisa couldn’t run. The fear had taken ahold of her and would allow her to move any faster than a sloth in a waking

He laid there, staring at the tv playing the news. It was about the shooting. I rushed to turn it off, blocking his view. He blinked at me, then smiled. “Hey, buddy.” I smiled back, crawling next to him and hugging him. Some happy tears stained our shirts as I held him. We laid there for a long time in just pure silence. Our minds were saying the unspoken words. “Why did it happen?” Travis said into the air. “It happened because--” I stopped short. Why did it happen? Travis stared up at me, waiting for my answer. “I-I don’t know.” my brow furrowed in confusion as I pondered. Silence overcame us again. Eventually, soft snores came from Travis. He had fallen asleep. I stared at the wall, still unable to sleep. A woman somewhere screamed for unknown reasons. That scream triggered a flashback in my

Lifting your head up from a nap from the cold wood-finished desk, trying to overcome the haziness from your eyes as you look at your teacher, turning your head to the right your friend is taking a colorful page of ocean-blue, rosie-cheek-pink, lime-green, purple heart majesty colored notes and you wonder why you are doing the same. You suddenly hear loud thuds coming up the metal-rusted ramp outside leading to the door. The door swings open with a powerful “swoosh” and an eerie creek from the rusted bolts follow. A gun walks in, following a middle-aged white man who has a distorted look in his eyes.

One of Ms. Brown's coworker quickly called her daughter, who was touring the World Trade Center. Ms. Brown's coworker lost contact with her daughter and did not hear from her again for four long days. All the cell phone company's signals were all stationed on top of the Twin Towers and when the buildings fell, all service was lost. All communication was gone and in the streets, there were silence. Smoke spilled out of the burning towers and painted the sky black. People jumped out of the flaming buildings, desperate for escaption. When the towers crumbled, a black substance covered the streets and people as they ran for help.

“Shut up!” A door slams. I bury my face in a pillow to drown out the noise. There is a large crash that comes from downstairs. It is quiet enough to hear a pin drop. The crying, the yelling, the pain, it’s over.

At 11:34 p.m. Marty Wilkins pushed the button for the 24th floor of his apartment elevator. The metal doors slid noiselessly across greased tracks and he walked to the window at end of the muted yellow hallway. He climbed out onto the fire escape, scaled up its ladder, and padded silently across the roof. Marty sat on the knee high retaining wall that bordered the roof, and his feet hung loosely into the nothingness. He liked the way the wind bounced up from the street, bringing with it the smells and sounds of the Friday night.

“Everyone get out!” My boss screams at us. As a massive herd, we all head toward the doors. The crowd was dense, everyone wanted to get out of the building and run home to their families. Getting home to loved ones seemed to be the only thought on anyone’s mind. No one felt threatened with death, even though the building next door was engulfed in bright orange flames.

She and I were together again, as if we were the last people on earth.” Hailey!””what?” The class started laughing.Ms.Briggs, they want you done in the office.” I knew she would say that. “Ok.” I look at abe one last time before I leave. He smiled at me with his eyes, his dark blue eyes.I smile back and walk out. With each step I take it steps to the beat of my heart. I look at the lockers and they look lonely, even though they are all together. I hear the sirens of cop cars and I see them fly by, leaving a pattern of red,white,blue,red,white,blue. As the noise of the sirens fades off I find myself standing in front of the office. The door is a dark brown which makes the golden plaque printed with “OFFICE” stand

It was a normal day in the Ogden Construction office. The sun was bright, the skies were clear and the birds were flying. Suddenly, out of nowhere a bright shockwave of light passed through the early morning setting. Soon after, a faint noise could be heard coming from the open drawer of the company CEO, Ned's desk. The noise appeared to be the whispering of a raspy voice, almost as if it hadn't been used before. Shortly after a soft higher pitched voice could be heard. In the drawer where the voices had come from lay a stapler by the name of Stapleton, and a paper clip named Clipton.

It was almost two before there was a chance for lunch. Until then his desk was snow-banked with demanding papers, the telephone rang constantly and an amry of insistent visitors attacked his walls with requests for work. By twelve, his nerves were pulled like violin strings knobbed to their tightest. By one, the strings drew close to shearing; by one-thirty they began to snap. He had to get away now; immediately; flee to some shadowy restaurant booth, have a cocktail and a leisurely meal; listen to somnolent music.

As I woke up the next morning in the claustrophobic shelter, I could still hear the same noise;aircrafts shaking the earth, bombs breaking the earth and incessant screaming that sends a chilling sensation to your bones. Then an eery silence after an almighty explosion. The average volume of people chatting in the shelter was very quiet but the loudest

I heard a loud noise that caused me to sit straight up from lying on the ground attempting to sleep on the cold, hard concrete floor. The sounds of car engines were getting louder and louder. They suddenly stopped and men’s footsteps grew close to my cell. I heard Mr. Finch’s voice in the crowd trying to calm everyone down. The smell of whiskey was filling the air, it was so dense I could taste it on my tongue. Surprisingly out of all the men i could hear children arguing with Mr. Finch. There were deep voices of the men telling Mr. Finch to get the children out of here. Then the yells of a young girl shattered the room, I stood up quickly to try and peer through the two by two foot barred window that was a foot over my head.