Teen Girl- Constant swaying the boat is always swaying it never stops. I miss my family I don’t know where I am and it smells. Men are constantly staring at me watching with their eyes as if they were undressing me. It causes shivers to go down my spine. The other night I woke up in a pool of sweat and started gagging uncontrollably. It’s because the food here is disgusting. I feel that Hope is the worse thing anyone could give to you. I heard whispering in other languages and then my own about how some groups had been formed and planned to take over the ship. There are so many whispers and strange voices I hear throughout the night. I hear screaming and coughing. One of my friend’s mom is on the ship. She is the captain’s favorite. If I am …show more content…
I am only doing this to get paid. The slaves here don’t treat me with respect. At least the slave women make me feel a sense of purpose, a reason to care for my cargo. My crew listens to my every word and I work hard to earn their respect. I feel unstoppable out at sea, I have control over life and death. I can do anything I want with anyone I want. Only 8 days left until land-ho. I love the sea but having to hear all the moaning and groaning just makes me mad. These people smell and are filled with disease. So far only a couple have died. There have been a couple of leaders and brave ones that have tried to hurt some of my crew members or me but they always end up getting thrown over board. These slaves should be grateful they have decent food. My boat is nice and tidy because my crew make the slaves swop the deck. My favorite time is night because there are no slaves on deck and I can just stare at the stars and hear the waves crash. Now 7 days left and a slave gave birth to a baby. I hate babies, their screaming makes me sick. As soon as the baby was born my crew members took the baby into the back and killed it. Silence is much better than another mouth to feed. I can’t wait to get them off my ship so I can enjoy a clean bath and then the smell of money and
I believe many more would very soon have done the same if they had not been prevented by the ship's crew, who were instantly alarmed. Those of us that were the most active were in a moment put down under the deck, and there was such a noise and confusion among the people of the ship as I never heard before to stop her and get the boat out to go after the slaves. However, two of the wretches were drowned, but they got the other and afterwards flogged him unmercifully for thus attempting to prefer death to slavery. I can now relate to the hardships which are inseparable from this accursed trade. Many a time we were near suffocation from the want of fresh air, which we were often without for whole days together.
Rediker, Marcus. The Slave Ship A Human History. New York, New York: Penguin Group, 2007. Print.
Zero awoke to find himself standing, it was not something he was familiar with and he searched his memory for any recollection of it happening before. Quickly he discovered that large parts of his memory were missing, gone were the seemingly endless data bases of information. Quickly he sent out feelers trying for a connection of some sort but he drew a blank. It seemed that where ever he was now, had limited connection capacity. Instead he used his visual feed to survey his surrounding, it appeared he was in some kind of desert of discarded parts.
Its been 872 days since I stepped foot in America. Me and my family were brought here as slaves through the Middle Passage. Arriving in Jamestown, Virginia. Me, father, mother and little Saddie. Since that exact secound my life has become a nightmare. Stripped from our freedom and against our will we were taken aboard a ship of about 50 people. It was a long journey. Each night I dreamt of leaving the ship and thought maybe I can escape but it didn’t go like that. The ship was tightly packed many diseases spread at one point I thought I was going to receive it as well. Aboard the ship I saw horrific things. People were brutally whipped. Some tried to kill themselves, some achieved it others being caught were brutally beaten. At one pont I thought
In school I 've learned that there are a total of five stages of grief - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. After learning of the truth of The Runaways Project, I was definitely no longer in denial that Hayden may have done this on purpose. My anger meter was beyond full and anyone who stood in my way were simply looking for trouble at this point.
American Teen is a documentary covering the lives of teenagers at school in a small town in Indiana, America. The documentary showcases four main teenagers – the artsy girl, the jock, the popular girl and the geek. It shows the good and bad times that the teenagers face day-to-day and all of the situations that every teenagers goes through such as, jealousies, heartbreaks, first loves and the struggles socially as well as them deciding their future.
As soon as the door closed, and Jace was finally at last gone, Clary immediately sprang to her feet and locked the door. Tears had all ready formed at the corner of her eyes, before she ran towards the pretty canopy bed, and fell down upon its soft, gentle surface and sobbed as if her heart would break. Inside, she was completely devastated. She began to wonder just what exactly had minute, she'd been at home, relaxing in the bright, warm golden sun, working on a brand new painting, and the next, she was off riding into the deep, dark woods with Wayfarer following her father's very trail, and they'd stumbled upon the mysterious dark castle, and the final moment she was trading her life for her father's in order to save him.
conditions aboard ship were dreadful. The maximum number of slaves was jammed into the hull, chained to forestall revolts or suicides by drowning. Food, ventilation, light, and sanitatio...
she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories
For my first piece of original writing I intend to create a piece primarily written for entertainment however, I also want to portray an interest into historical and political persuasions. I aim to write this piece for an audience of teenagers to young adult who are aged from around fifteen to twenty-five and are male, I also wish to identify with those interested in political thrillers within this age range. The genre of which shall be a short fiction story consisting chiefly of narrative and written in the third person. I picture this piece as being one of a collection of short stories concerned with the political-thriller fiction sub-genre. Despite being a fiction text I aim to tie in real world non-fiction.
As I saunter onto the school field, I survey the premises to behold people in coats, shielding themselves from winter's blues. The sun isn't out yet, but the place bursting with life and exuberance, with people gliding across the ice covered floor almost cat-like. The field is effervescent and despite the dire conditions, the field seems to have taken on a life of its own. The weather is bad and the ice seems to burn the skin if touched, yet the mood is still euphoric. The bare shrubs and plants about the place look like they've been whipped by Winter himself. The air is frosty and at every breath the sight of steam seems to be present. A cold, cruel northerly wind blows across the playground and creates unrest amongst some. Crack! The crisp sound of leaves is heard, as if of ice splitting and hissing. Squirrels are seen trying to find a point of safety, scurrying about the bare trees that lie around the playground. Mystery and enigma clouds the playing field, providing a sense of anticipation about the place. Who is going to be the person to spoil the moment? To kill the conversation?
There were once three friends Luke, Adam, and Eli. They were running for their lives from alien soldiers. They had only some food, water and a knife each. “Runnnnn they're gaining on us!” yelled Luke who was at the front. After they lost them they stopped to rest. They were in the forest of pyrex. They knew they had to get to hi valley for it was the only safe place in all the world. They were close to the place thought they just had to avoid many soldiers and bullets and then it would be a straight shot to the valley. Eli pointed to a map and said “It might be a few day stretch from here.” “But” interrupted Adam “There are soldiers everywhere that will shoot you on the spot,” luke said “We should go this way through the Spirit forest because, there is no way any soldier would go through it.” even though the voyage would take longer it was the safest way.
Imagine it is one’s first day in high school. Standing in front befalls the entrance way to your new future, thinking of what lies ahead from the perspective of a middle school grad. One would perhaps have mixed emotions as to what to expect. Observing the new students around the corridors, it transpires as if they are dragging their feet to progress inside, for the reason that they are fresh from the blissful summer days; they are in exchange, yet again, to the reality of school homework, projects, reports and tests. Some have queries and doubts in their minds; what does one expect of themselves getting into a high school life such as this? “What remains in store for me, I wonder…” “This school year is going to be subsequently much tougher
In the twelve years I was in school, I learn three forms of writing, essay, letters, and stories. My favorite form of writing is creative writing. My least favorite is writing a letter. The reason I prefer creative writing over the other, form is because I have the freedom to make up anything. The reason I dislike writing letter is because many letters have different formats. For example, I can’t uses the friendly letter format on a business letter; I would have to use block format. Even though I prefer creative writing, my most commonly used skill is to write essays. Though, I may find essay writing a chore, I still prefer it over letter writing. Among these books I still read The Odyssey and Macbeth, for inspiration.
There are many reasons to write. Entreating by writing a story, informing by writing a letter and persuading by writing an essay. I started to learn how to read and write in elementary school. As I got older and further in my education I got better at reading and writing. My favorite kind of writing is creative writing. Elementary school taught me how to write essays. Middle school taught me how to write letters. High school taught me how to write a story. Elementary, middle, and high school where very important in my writing development.