It was a typical spring day; flowers stand tall‚ soaking in the sun’s warm rays as they swing in the gentle yet crisp breeze. A song composed of chirping birds slightly overpower the sound of traffic as it is still early in the morning. Macy Jones awoke after a well rested night. Her facial expressions indicate happiness however‚ a way of reality hit‚ quickly transforming the slight smile into a deep frown. Macy Jones is not pretty‚ nor does she feel loved. She often wished her dull brown hair be
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The adrenaline pumped through my veins. My heart was beating so loud and fast. There was the ball‚ held in the referee’s hands‚ about to be thrown up into the air. I stood a few feet behind the boy on the opposite team‚ poised and ready to catch the ball when my teammate smacked it toward me. Oh‚ I was so nervous. Suddenly the basketball hit my stomach with incredible force. It bounced off and rolled away on the floor to be picked up by the opposite team. The game had begun‚ and I had already dropped
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Something any soccer player wants most than anything in the world‚ a President’s Cup championship. Practice is the reason for these types of tournaments. All the practice and extra work I put in payed off. I put in so much hard word and dedication‚ you wouldn’t believe. We had to do a lot of conditioning and drills to get to this point. My team and I worked ourselves to the point of breakage. We worked all summer for this moment. We played against higher level teams to make us better‚ and that was
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His ruthless heart on the ruby-splattered blade of its guiltless bearer‚ he dropped like a stone to the bloodstained turf‚ letting a cry of anguish blend in with the rapidly retreating footsteps of his cowering soldiers. He knew he would survive‚ but they didn’t‚ and at that moment in time them not knowing was what really mattered. He stared through his supposedly closed eyelids at his killer. A girl‚ this time‚ with blonde‚ wavy hip-length hair and startling cyan eyes. That was what got him that
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Carina Wallace English 111 Ms. Simmerman Jan. 22‚ 2015 My Second Home I wake up to the sound of laughter downstairs‚ and the smell of fresh hot biscuits in the oven. I sit up drowsily in bed; the sun is shining through the window‚ making little patterns of light on my sheets. I rise‚ feeling the coolness of the wood floor against my feet as they touch the ground. I walk to the closet and grab my faded old jeans; I slip them on‚ buttoning the snap in one fluid movement. I pull open the top drawer
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Childhood is like a magical sand castle on the shore. One moment it is there and the next washed away by the high tide. The beach is a special place through the eyes of an innocent girl. Remembering the warm summer days spent on the beach with her family. Her favorite part is feeling the dry sand trickle through her dainty hands. She explores from day to night trying to unravel the oceans mysteries. The beach contains little things that bring her joy and childhood memories which have not been washed
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Lai Xu Per. 10 2-4-03 A House to Remember I have moved in and out of many houses throughout the years‚ but none of them were as important to me as the house in which I grew up. I must admit that this house‚ although enormous‚ was neither the nicest nor the most comfortable house‚ yet my nostalgic nature has propelled me to treasure that house above all others. Having parted it for almost ten years‚ some details of the house are out of my grasp. The memory of the house now stands as a symbol of
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Christian Mendoza Ms. Sadeghi English 3 P.5 1/5/14 The Walden Project Introduction: Every day I find myself walking into my kitchen and looking out of the stunning window view which allows me to see the skyline and an abundance of beautiful vegetation. The natural thing that I will be observing is the portion of the sky that is viewable from the window in my kitchen. I am ecstatic to begin this project because although I look through that window every day‚ I have never found the time to actually
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George Wing Instructor: Abby Wolford English 101-004W June 12‚ 2013 Cramer Lakes The Cramer Lakes are nestled six miles up a gentle incline from Redfish Lake in the Sawtooth Wilderness of Idaho. The jagged‚ irregular peaks of the ridges surrounding the lakes form the horizon. Mt Cramer towers over the rest at an elevation of 10‚715 feet‚ the second highest mountain in the range. Each of the three lakes has a short outflow into the next‚ eventually reaching the South fork of the Payette River
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I remembered nothing‚ but as I stepped off the plane into the tropical humidity I felt a sense of familiarity. Soon after landing at the sleepy Nadi international airport my father and I boarded a cramped bus on its way to the capital of Fiji‚ Suva‚ my birthplace. Perhaps if George Speight had kept his ambitions in check and decided not to attempt a coup d’etat in 2000 it could have been my home. But it was not to be‚ and as the sounds of gunfire trickled down from the parliament up the road to our
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