I stop at the edge of the graveyard. I am thoroughly equivocal about what to do. The wind whistles through the trees and the branches rattle the windows of a nearby building. My hands clutch the handlebars of my bike. I stare in the dark at the text message on my phone-- “ meet me in the graveyard at 9:00 and I’ll give you the photo.” My mind implores me to turn around‚ but my heart compels me to keep moving. The rain changes from a drizzle to a downpour. A whooshing sound startles me and I look
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delightful that it has become something I enjoy dearly. Today‚ I have yet to realize‚ is a little different than most days. After I’ve had my fill of coffee‚ Applewood smoked bacon‚ and blueberry pancakes I notice that the wonderful aromas are fading. Shortly after I dropped my dishes off at the dishwasher I headed back over to the couch to start reading books and doing my homework. After a while I slowly get up out of my “command center” as my girlfriend Jackie calls it and head out of the living room and
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picture as I stand in front of the most beautiful painted picture. After walking along the shore‚ I begin to jump and leap through the thin layer of water‚ creating more rising splashes. I wish I could dance in the water and on the sand for a lifetime‚ but moments after the pink and orange colors begin to fade into the night. The sky turns purple and black. I use every minute until the night takes over. After what felt like only a minute‚ my dad began dragging me out of the water onto
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My feet were splashing the water louder and louder. My goggles were filled with water and were unbearable to see through. The edge of the pool was closer after every stroke. My opponents were rushing down the lanes to gain victory. The crowds erupted in cheers and applause. Their sea of smiles motivated me to finish the race. The mechanics and the precise turns regulated in swimming were crucial to these
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The scent of popcorn wafts over the peeling red walls of the ancient gym. Fluorescent lights blind me as I turn to glance over at the creaky old bleachers. The shuffles and murmurs of parents fill the sticky air while they come in. Clad in itchy mesh jerseys that boasted a large spur on the front hung over the equally uncomfortable shorts that resembled the jet black of my jersey‚ I block out the cheers of the crowd while attempting to perfect my form. Swish! The basketball floats through the air
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windows. “This is the shower‚” he said. “Now take off your clothes and put them in a pile there‚” He pointed at the ground next to the door. I ripped off my torn‚ bloody clothes and threw them in a heap. I was relieved to finally be taking a shower after this awful week. The other men from my barrack took off their clothes hesitantly‚ and they all had fear written in their eyes. I didn’t understand why they seemed so scared. A shower could not be nearly as bad as what we have been through
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leaving‚ angry at the people in the sky city for not wanting the three of them to live there together. On a sleepless night‚ Flint started tearing off boards of the house he was living in. Ruining the last thing on the island that stood. He set off after his
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goes off and punches you in the shoulder you see the deer disappeared into the brush. You sit there comprehending what just happened and debating with yourself about when you will go out to look for blood. The shaking in your hands slowly goes away after about 10 minutes and anxiety sets in. All you can think is “did i hit it” or “am i going to find
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Walking down the hallway I remember experiencing the familiar feeling of anxiety drip down my spine‚ feeling the outside world getting larger‚ and myself getting smaller. I shake it off as I begin to turn and enter the dressing room door. When I enter I am welcomed by my family‚ who have been waiting to congratulate me on my first show. My eyes analyze them in order across the room. My mother‚ who used to always sing me songs when I was a child‚ not being the most excellent at it‚ but always able
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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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