Once there was a girl. A girl that didn’t think she ever mattered. Sure‚ she had good parents and decent grades‚ but she never thought herself to be worth anymore than a plastic wrap on the ground. The girl isolated herself whenever she could‚ only speaking when it was required by her teachers. Even so‚ half the grade thought she was mute. She learned a fair amount of sign language to encourage the rumor‚ just so that more people would leave her alone. If anyone had truly paid attention to her
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front of the alleyway‚ I was wearing a navy blue hooded cape‚ but I was dressed like Katniss from the Hunger Games. I had narrowed it down to who had sent me the invitation‚ but there was only one person who I know that would send this. His name is Jonas‚ or known as the Lancer. Jonas seems like a sane person‚ but deep down he’s really a psychopath. Walking into the alleyway‚ I carefully watch my surroundings knowing that
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should go to on the mission with the rest of the group to test his abilities. The clan arrived at the headquarters in Ni’ihau. Howard scoped the area to see which entrances were blocked or guarded. He saw that the front of the building only had 1 person guarding it. He looked around to make sure that no alarms would go off if he eliminated him. Howard signaled the sniper to take out the guy. The sniper gave a quick
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Insomnia A/N: I don’t ship EreRi‚ but this was surprisingly easy to write. And quite enjoyable. I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m now going to cry because I’m a piece of shit who doesn’t know how to prioritise and is really‚ really stressed because of it. . . . For the fourth time in a row‚ Eren can’t sleep. Throwing the sheets away from his body‚ clammy and gross as shit‚ Eren scrubs his hands over his face and emits a groan of frustration. He (figuratively
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paused for a moment. “Maria fought side by side with you in battle‚ you know she’s a rebel‚ why do you doubt this?” Juno noticed a strange look cross her face. If she believed Maria was innocent‚ then who would be the one responsible. The only person left would be Morales. “You’re lying. Maria is the traitor.” She yelled and stomped back to camp‚ unwilling to listen to anymore. Maria was guilty as
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The Curious Traveller. If you only had a certain amount of time to live‚ would you live every day to the most of it? Well that’s what I have to do. I turned 40‚ 4 days ago and a week ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I was told I only have a few months to live. This is when I decided I had to make the most of the next few months; I decided I wanted to travel the world. I have 2 daughters‚ Tahlia (12yrs) and Molly (15yrs)‚ I also have a son‚ Chris (16yrs). My husband was there when we were told
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return but how many more times? How longer can he dodge the bullets or not be raided by the enemy. Emma‚ my mother‚ is worse than I am. Both of us confused on what to do. Yeah‚ he calls every once in awhile but we cannot see his face. Missing that one person you love the most sucks. “Jakob‚ go clean your room‚” my mother yells but I just ignore everything she says now. Constantly yelling and never seems to care about anything. She calls in sick to work not earning money. My father isn’t getting paid
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Analyzation of Two Poems Melinda Polom September 12‚ 2013 I will first be giving to you‚ my analyzation of the short poem‚ titled‚ "First Fig"‚ written by author‚ Edna St. Vincent Millay‚ who was born in the year of 1892‚ and died in the year of 1950. I am at first‚ making the assumption that‚ when the author is speaking about a candle‚ which "burns at both ends"‚ that she must be comparing a candle‚ and the "light that it gives out”‚ using the candle‚ as a symbol‚ or as a “representative”
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The day arrived. The day I have been dreading for weeks. I knew that today I would have to deal with unwanted tears and emotions of sadness and emptiness running freely throughout my body. Today was the day that everything changed and the whole world around me would collapse. This was the day that I would have to travel 6209.2km across the world. To a place that is foreign and unknown to me but was once a place I used to call home. It was 6:09am in Bahrain. I watched as the large glowing sphere
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Descriptive Writing – The forest. [pic] A crisp winter morning and there was a frosty chill in the air. A sweet surrendering scent of the moist morning dew that cascades all around the sublime forest. The mixed cool autumn leaves from the tall trees lay scattered on the forest floor; they were in the motion of turning a brittle brown. There was the sound of shattered glass that emphasised the leaves being crunched‚ as if you were to step on them‚ pushing their papery remains deep into the
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