Karl English 10H One Day Down‚ One Thousand to Go I gazed up into the bleak morning sky and viewed the wafts of smoke‚ anything to take my mind off what was to come. The sound of the landing craft’s engines revved up indicating we were on our final approach. I gripped my Thompson and carefully glanced over it. The functionality of this gun could mean life or death for me and so it received my dearest attention. Suddenly
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The startling sounds of my alarm clock causes me to shoot forward from my bed. After my short lived panic I remember why I am waking up before the sun. I fumble through the darkness gathering my hunting gear before snatching up my shoes as I head towards the door. Pausing briefly in the cluttered mudroom‚ I pull my brown boots over my aching feet. I throw the door open and step into the misty fog. I look to my left and see the sun slowing coming over the horizon. I watch as it fades from a dark
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The streets were empty again‚ as they had always been. A short breeze blew across the cracked roads of the city‚ and a deafening silence hung in the air. How long had I been here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? It was like time had been compressed - or maybe it had expanded. Battered street lights towered around me with their cracked light bulbs. As I continued down the broken path before me‚ rocks and concrete slid and crunched beneath my steps. The torrid heat of the afternoon stung my skin‚ and the
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The lazy afternoon sun plants hot kisses on the nape of my neck as I drift up the garden path and towards the house. It’s the kind of heat that dries out your skin and chaps your lips. Towing an armful of bulky paper shopping bags‚ I slip through the side gate‚ shaded by the sweet smelling jasmine that climbs up the wooden fence palings. “Monet!” I shout‚ my eyes dart back and forth‚ surveying the empty yard. A heavy silence follows. My forehead prickles with worry when no little white dog with
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Autumnal weather is nothing compared to the winter‚ freezing my veins and forming cracks that run up and down my arms as I start to break‚ but every tear is freezing as quickly as it flows. I cannot help but feeling that things are beginning to fall apart. It was as if you induced me into a long lasting coma where my dreams were more appealing than the world you left me in‚ walking alone as a lonely vessel of what I once was. Left in the dark‚ much like the night at the bar‚ my most prominent memory
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green and black alarm clock goes off on the tableside next to my eardrum. I roll over onto my right side and hit the dismiss button turning off the vexatious sound. Slithering out of bed‚ I flick on the lights and slide on the usual black shirt‚ black jeans‚ and Converse; since it is the middle of January I put on a black beanie. I glide down the stairs and I topple over a colossal cardboard box and assuming it has Richard written in illegible letters‚ I know my stepdad has taken residence in my
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It was the 7th-grade year and everyone knew me well. One day‚ when I came home from school‚ there was no one there. Creek. Crack. Squeak. Squeak. I heard many small noises in my house. Then as I looked around‚ all my windows were wide open. There was a huge wind blowing through the air‚ harder than a hurricane. It felt like an air conditioner in the hot sweaty summer. Then suddenly‚ “ding‚ ding‚ ding!” My phone notification went off. The notification came from a social media app called Kik. The notification
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Without hesitation‚ riding in a bus is the most boring‚ gloomy places I can imagine being in since it has haunted consecutive saturday mornings. I sat eerily awaiting the early 6:00 bus. The hard cheap metal bench rests uneasy beneath me. I loom in darkness seeing as the rising sun hid fearfully beneath the bleak clouds. The only lights in sight are are the dim streetlights across from me and the faint glow from my phone display. Weakly off in the distance the sound of the crosswalk signal rings
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The Windy City This past summer‚ I went on a trip to what I now call one of my favorite places. The spirit of Chicago embodied me. I had always wanted to visit Chicago. I had seen many photos of the beautiful Windy City‚ and my friends often spoke of their visit to the city. Once I arrived‚ I did not want to return home. I was ready to leave my old life behind and start over. Going to Chicago opened my eyes‚ and taught me that I am meant to live in the city. Walking downtown made me feel like an
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The Hunt Your alarm goes off waking you from a deep sleep. You sit up and open your eyes‚ crusty and trying to force themselves shut. As you slowly get all of your hunting clothes on‚ eat‚ load your gun‚ and bundle up your really want to just go back to bed. Finally‚ out the door you go. As you are tiptoeing through the woods‚ leaves crunching under your feet‚ the occasional snap of a twig when you accidently step on a branch‚ you try to make the least amount of noise possible. The cold feel of
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