"Descriptive writing on beginning to cry" Essays and Research Papers

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    Beach Descriptive Writing

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    began to disembark from the craft‚ bullets whizzing‚ cracking as they flew all around us; an explosion next to me; a tank engine; the screams and shouts of men. All replaced in an instant by the roar of a plane overhead‚ coming lower‚ lower then beginning to unload its cannons onto the men below. Is this the sound of

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    Blood Descriptive Writing

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    I saw stars dance across my vision‚ and I snapped my eyes shut in torment. Every muscle in my body ached‚ and the pressure on my leg caused by the hand just intensified my agony. I couldn’t breathe‚ and I was beginning to cough up blood profusely. What little air I had in my lungs got caught in my throat‚ and I began to choke. Hot‚ salty tears burned my eyes‚ and they slipped down my cheeks quickly. “Please‚” I pleaded meekly‚ “please make it stop.” The hand

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    A Terrifying Night Long story short‚ I was terrified‚ even a long night of partying plus the fact that we were drunk‚ couldn’t stop the trembling! Now were standing here engulfed in fear wondering what would happen next. The three had gone for a long night of partying in light of Mike recent graduation at the University of North Manchester. We drove for miles just because Mike said that there was a great bar just off South Manchester. The road he made us take was an aged‚ unmaintained road

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    Descriptive Writing Pool

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    The water is calm and undisturbed‚ not a ripple in the pool. A rush of ice water envelopes my body as I dive into the pool. I open my eyes and wait for them to focus in my new environment. As I come up for air‚ I smell the strong scent of chlorine around me. As I begin my first set of laps‚ water rushes into my mouth as I come up for air‚ the taste of chlorine is soon stuck in my mouth. Half way through my second lap‚ I hear the sounds of splashing and what sounds like cannonballs as people begin

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    Prison Descriptive Writing

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    The world seems hazy‚ like clouds have drifted into my vision and blinded me‚ forcing me to rely on my other senses. I listen‚ open up my ears to the world‚ but hear nothing except the occasional thud of heavy‚ ghost-like footsteps off in the distance. And then it is quiet‚ everything goes quiet‚ like all sound has been voided out of my ears‚ gone forever‚ leaving me trapped inside a prison that I don’t know how to escape. Suddenly‚ I feel the pounding in my head‚ a sharp‚ shooting pain‚ that

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    It is a bright sunny day; the sky a soft shade of blue and a slight breeze in the air. It was a day of beauty‚ a day with no soul inside but rather enjoying the delightfulness outside. Stepping out‚ the concrete on the porch is steamed just enough to stand on bare foot. Off in the distance is the vision of feet coming into sight every couple of seconds as the swing is pushed up. Drivers pass in cars‚ each in their own trail of thoughts. The windows of every car are rolled all the way down and diverse

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    Night Descriptive Writing

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    All I heard was dogs barking. I rolled over and looked at the time. It was 6:48. I got up and got dressed. Mom was already waiting for me downstairs. We went outside and walked down the road to the bus stop. I was so sleepy but I had already made a commitment and I just couldn’t back out. The bus came and we got on. It was so warm and toasty‚ the perfect atmosphere to take a nap. Within minutes my eyes started to droop‚ I just couldn’t keep them open. Then without even realizing it‚ I was fast asleep

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    Locker Descriptive Writing

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    CHAPTER ONE: The only decoration in my locker was an old ninja turtles band-aid stuck on the inside from someone in a previous year. I hadn’t bothered to peel it off. The blue paint was slowly peeling off and the lock only worked half the time. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and shook it out before grabbing my textbook out of the locker. My nails were bitten short with chipped blue nail polish. Last class I had destroyed them with anxiety. I shut my locker in frustration‚ knowing the next

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    1/21/14 Bumps and Bruises I’m tired and restless after a mentally draining day at school. There are blurred lights and angry drivers all around me as the tires of my car grind against the cold concrete. My dad pulls into the back parking lot and signals for me to get out of the car. I groan‚ knowing that I am in for a long practice‚ and slowly drag myself out of the front seat. I lug my hockey bags out of the trunk‚ and they become another nagging reminder of the grueling workout I’m

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    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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