The crowd started to clap. I started to walk up the bleachers then it all happened. Fast‚ sharp‚ and quick it was. Then I felt it in my cheeks and I started to blush. Next I felt it in my stomach.Those butterflies had come. Everyone trying to look‚ trying to look for the boy who fell behind the bleachers‚ the boy who knocked down the backdrop. It all started at Providence Elementary’s Winter Concert. It took place at Kempsville Middle‚ home of the Chiefs. The classes were getting ready for our songs
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“Bro these guys are huge! We are about to get beat so bad. And look how fast they are.” Austin Blake was usually never intimidated. As the captain of the defense he was generally so stoic you would have thought there was no one he couldn’t beat. His attitude always inspired confidence and tenacity in us. He was our fearless leader. But today it seemed as if his lack of confidence was just a foreshadowing of yet another total mental and physical collapse of a team in the face of Westwood High school
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I awoke that day to the sounds of men yelling and whips cracking‚ people screaming and chains rattling. I had no idea where I was. Though I had a splitting headache‚ I could tell I was moving‚ on something like a stretcher. I opened my eyes slightly‚ and saw that I was being carried by some men who appeared to be Fulani‚ along some sort of beach. I assumed I was on the coast‚ for when I glanced toward the sea it appeared to go on until it met the horizon. After understanding where I likely was
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The Chase My wrists started to ache terribly as I trudged along the hard concrete road. Usually‚ when I took this route home‚ I passed all sorts of strange looking people. Where we lived‚ was an odd place‚ the people there were very friendly‚ but sometimes too friendly‚ getting in the way of your private life‚ asking personal questions that you didn’t really know how to answer. But on this particular night‚ a humid night at that‚ there was absolutely no sound to be heard. Not even the squeal of
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Puffy clouds were floating on the radiant blue sky. The murky‚ sticky air surrounded the peaceful New York. Contaminated ominous smoke belch out from skyscrapers across the river. Rigid cement was about to melt down‚ animals stayed underground and people began sweltering as if they were the farmers below the fierce sun. Smoothly‚ the breeze danced over the resting people sitting on the wooden wall nearby Hudson River. The day was quiet as the grave to a wonder. The clear blue sky contrasted itself
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As a young girl‚ I experienced what at the time I thought was the end of the world. Yes‚ I was a little bit of a drama queen. At the age of eleven‚ and on my way to a ballet recital a woman who was careless pulled under an awning in a non-parking zone in front of The Girls Club. I was running to catch up with my group. I looked left and right and proceeded to walk under the awing to the parking lot across from the building. From the corner of my eye’s I saw a white car pull up in front of me very
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Black Dog is based off of a stream of concious I did in February during one of my many routine walks through a cemetery near my house. It was night time‚ and everything was cold and damp. But the moon made this atmosphere that I just loved that I had to write about it. It should also be noted that it was around valentine’s day and I was thinking about my “perfect” mate (don’t judge me‚ you’ve done that before) This piece is also about on how I would be a “perfect” mate‚ and how I would have to change
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My Computer I have an hp computer laptop. We’ll‚ it’s not actually mine because everyone uses it so I will not refer to it as mine. We’ve had it for about 7 months. Prior to this laptop we had a desktop computer. We had to get a laptop because the desktop computer malfunctioned due to a thunderstorm where it was struck by lightning. Anyway I’m supposed to be describing the laptop so that’s what I’m about to do in the next few paragraphs. The laptop is black. It has a silver logo on top of the face
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He sits on the steps in front of his brown house. One foot on the sidewalk the other leg bent at the knee. The orange glow of his cigarette held inches from his yellowing teeth. From inside the house he hears shouting. He stands‚ his light washed jeans are worn down at the knees. He stubs the cigarette in green ceramic ashtray on top of the wooden banister. Taking out a lighter‚ he walks over to his car. Placing one foot on the gray rear bumper‚ he lights a second cigarette. The luminescent street
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As I stand amongst the throngs of people in my carefully chosen spot I close my eyes and take a moment to breathe in the greatness that will be this rock concert. As the stench of burnt out cigarettes and stale spilt beer entangle in my nostrils they mix with the unmistakable reek of fresh vomit from the guy in front of me. I look down to him from my perch and see he has curled himself into the fetal position‚ looking like a tiny helpless child‚ dressed in stained black jeans two sizes to tight
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