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Here. Taste. - It 's sour! - You 're so clueless. - It 's not like I ever drink wine. - Obviously. This bottle costs over R500. Yes, Lesedi. I 'm living the high life now. It 's what I 've always wanted. There 's no way I 'm just going to give it up. I was surprised to hear from you. You don 't call often. You have your own lives to live. I 'm well aware of that. What was it you wanted to talk about? Mom, are you okay? Tell me, do you think I 'm holding Jack back? - Where 's this coming

There were 3 knocks on my door then I hear , "Police open up!" I was walking to open the door when i heard a loud bang and saw my door hitting my wood floors then the swat team said "put your hands up your under arrest for the murder of Ralph Burns " I listened and slowly put my hands up I was extremely confused who is Ralph Burns? Then one of the police men took my hands and put them behind my back then put tight hand cuffs on me. They took me to a police car and put me inside.i asked the officer

On March 21st, 1990 Glenn Randall and Steve Smith began their fatal walk in the Oregon woods. Glenn has been working for National Geographic since he graduated from college 19 years ago. Steve, Glenn's lifelong best friend, had just recently joined his team. Their newest project is to capture pictures for this month's issue. The men has just witnessed a rare brown pelican snatch a copper rockfish out of a nearby waterfall. “Hurry Steve! Get a picture!” Glenn shouted in a panic. “Susan is going to

To My Beloved Shelbie, At first, I wanted to write you a love letter describing how I feel about you, and what you mean to me, but I believe it is better if in addition to describing my feelings that I clear up all our miscommunications as best I can. Please understand that we see some things differently, an example being when you felt that I expected something out of you that was likely my fault for not doing my best to communicate my feelings but I never want you to feel like I demand something

Red and black runs in my veins Everyone fears that it does Because of you I am me And because of you I am Albanian Albanian is what I am It keeps me going And because of you A piece of me is apart you I am willing to die To see you fly The two headed eagle is in my heart The shqiponja is what I see And for you ill keep my head up high And for you I will die I’m proud to be Albanian Reflection 1 I chose to write about this because this is apart me who I am. And I love the

To all teachers, I look forward to your class When I come to school. You 're an awesome teacher; I think you 're very cool. You 're smart and fair and friendly; You 're helping all of us. And if I got to grade you, From me you 'd get A+! To all friends, Friendship is one of life 's greatest treasures. Friends that are loyal are always there to make you laugh when you are down, they are not afraid to help you avoid mistakes and they look out for your best interest. This kind of friend can be hard

It 's not quite a mystery From the moment I saw you across the room, I was hooked by the color that sparkled in your eyes. Even to this day I can pinpoint that as the second I fell in love with you. But you didn 't know I existed, and I didn 't know how to make you see me. I 'm the one who 's insecure After all, how could a girl like you ever like someone of my characteristics? I don 't exactly excel at anything. I 'm just the girl in the corner, the one who exists only in the shadows of people

I remember that day when I moved into that town. It was a fresh and clear day. The birds were singing and the sun was shining all over. I had unpacked and had decided to explore around the place. I went through the shops and the park, and there nothing interested me. I don’t know why but, nothing was interesting. I had walked around and I was pretty sure that I had seen something shimmering in the sunlight, but when I looked closer, it was gone. Now, I will tell you how I became this: a ghost. Over

It was hot. So hot, that sweat caused clothes clung to all skin it came into contact with. This sweat was dripping off her as if it was forced water cascading from a small opening at the top of the head of a statue standing in the center of a fountain. However, it wasn’t a statue standing in the center of a fountain, but a small child on her knees leaning up against a wall. If this was not the worst bed bell dream a child receive as a gift, then the horror that came next to mind was told true.

In a small town about twenty miles out of San Francisco, there lived a girl named Megan. Megan was just an ordinary 16-year-old. She was the only child of Debby and Max Watson. She had a boyfriend named Duke, who she thought was the sweetest guy ever to exist. Megan and her mother, Debby, shared a special bond that no one else had, not even her and her boyfriend. Megan and her mother looked significantly alike. Megan and her mother both had beige blonde hair with light blue-green eyes. They were