1. The place was extremely dark. Not the type of dark where your eyes would adjust eventually, but such a darkness that you couldn't even see your hand right in front of your face. It was 1 o'clock in the morning, to make matters worse. You could hear the people walking nearby but you couldn't exactly distinguish when they were going to inevitably scare you. Your friends had forced you to go into this special haunted house, and you were terrified. The air was cold with anticipation and you had mentally cursed your friends for doing this to you. They knew haunted houses were your biggest fear, but they still managed to get you to walk in, trembling from fear and shivering from the nervousness that the eerie music that played in the air gave you.
2. The calls from the various animals in the area echoed under the bridge that connected the two seperately themed sections. The Dallas Zoo was one of your favorite places to go whenever you were upset. The overwhelming smell of popcorn reached your senses as soon as you passed by your favorite part of the zoo by the loud, buzzing monorail. It was almost noon, and you had a few hours left to spend over with your friends. The sight of the animals just calmed you down and had ridden you of your anxiety and sadness, and you were thankful
…show more content…
The library, not only a quiet place, but also one of the most relaxing places in my opinion. The white noise created by the turning of pages and the pressing of keys on the surrounding computer keyboards is one of the most relaxing things. The quiet whispers being exchanged by people in the library are so subtle that it doesn't bother anyone, but is enough to assure that there is some type of reality check. Sitting in one of the several large chairs that practically engulf you while reading an interesting story is one of the best things there is to experience. The atmosphere isn't so quiet that it is scary, but it's quiet to the point where you can relax on your own with no
O’Connor himself wasn’t partially physically intimidating. This fact became abundantly clear once he stepped off his chair and approached me. While not necessarily short in stature, his seat gave him an extra few inches compared to his natural stance.
Jake watched as Miss Collins’ horse galloped through the trees and out of sight. He made an exasperated snort and slid the Winchester into the rifle scabbard. His duty was to get Duvall, and he’d start by doubling back to the dead or wounded outlaws.
The author uses the zoo to represent a surrounded situation where people are forced to rely on others. In the zoo, animals are kept in cages for entertainment and amusement of people, but the wild animals who are born independent don’t like the environment in zoo. These animals spend most of their existence trying to escape. The author uses the animals in Denver zoo to represent various people from the childhood of the two sisters. In ...
h as: 'darted to and fro' and 'made a run for the door' along with a mixture of long, complex and short, rushed sentences all magnify the speed of the story. This leads to one final pinnacle when the narrator 'screamed…thrice,' showing us one final time that he cannot cope with what he cannot explain and his veneer of pragmatism and civilization has been ripped away from him. Consequently when he wakes up in daylight the next morning in the original room his tone changes from what it was at the beginning of the tale. At the start we saw how his tone was confident and somewhat patronising towards the custodians, almost challenging a 'tangible' ghost. However the first thing he said the next morning is, "'Yes' said I, 'the room is haunted."
As the sun rose in a pool of crimson gold, light spilled across the sprawling rainforest, heralding in the start of a new day. Thousands of feet below under the thick canopy of trees, I was abruptly woken by the raucous cry of a large bird. Sluggishly sitting up on my thick taffeta sleeping mat, I turned to see my equipment shambolically scattered from last night’s blind rummage for a torch. My body ached from last night's trek. Struggling to crawl out, I was struck by a burst of crisp, cool and calming gush of wind.
As they scrambled to be near each other for warmth and security against the tingling feeling arising on the backs of their necks, and the fear of their impending doom, what jumped out at them was a horrifyingly great big... just kidding. This all started with two teenaged girls telling stories one night, but it was spring, not summer, in a dorm room, not at a camp site, and completely calm, not alarming in the least. For this assignment, I chose to ask a friend to tell me a story regarding ghosts, magic, or the supernatural, and what she came up with I considered to be very helpful for this project.
“Enjoy your last meals boys!” Shouted the large Arab as he smacked the slave, unfortunate enough to be serving in the belly of the Colosseum that day. His massive hands shook the bars of the prisoner’s cage, intimidating many of the men held captive inside. “You’ll be dead and burning on the pyre as I feast and fuck this night.” The current prized gladiator climbed the bars and thrust his hand through, gripping one of the larger men about his throat, “Will you be the first to fall to my sword,” He laughed as he shoved the man away and pointed to the one who sat in the corner of the cell. His head was down, elbows pressed to his knees, and although there was a crust of bread still in his hand, he had not eaten it, nor had any of the other prisoners yet deemed it fit to take it from him. “No, it will be you. HEY! LOOK AT ME WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU!!!”
Jenny Bryce was a cute little nineteen year-old coed at Great Plains University who was on a full-ride scholarship for gymnastics and was, at the moment, one of the ten cutest adult female human beings on planet Earth, where "cute" is a term that describes "delightfully pretty or dainty in a youthful, delicate way; fun-spirited; adorable. " You know, perky, cheerful, daintily-petite, and at once both innocent and sexy. Oh, yes, Jenny was all of that from head to toes. Yes, indeed, she was. It was a quarter after seven in the morning and Jenny had been lost in sexual reverie since at least half-past five...her sheets were damp with sweat and the room had a hot, stuffy, sultry air about it that defied the cool crispness of the morning.
Once upon a time in a whimsical land where fairy tale characters roamed free, there lived a little pig, the third one to be exact, who found his existence upsetting. He, the smartest of the Three Little Pigs, was becoming discontented with his lifestyle under the reign of the mayor, the Big Bad Wolf. Every day the wolf would huff and puff and blow down his brothers’ houses and the helpless, homeless pigs begged their astute brother to rebuild their tenuous homes as they were before. Out of commiseration, the Third Pig always did. While he restituted the collapsed structures on a miserable, stormy day, the Third Little Pig, soaked with muddy water, cried out into the void, “By the hair on my chinny chin chin, I will not answer to the Big Bad Wolf, not ever again!” Upset, the pig stomped to his brothers and spoke defiantly,
Birds chirping. City lights burning. Car horns blaring. Sun shining. The beautiful city of Chicago. The city that seems to be ever-changing. Always breathtaking, never insignificant. In the day, the sun shines above the tall ivory towers and reflecting off the glistening windows. It gives warmth to those traveling in between and brightens one’s day. In the night, as the day turns dark, the city becomes bright as one by one, the light pierces the night sky. The wind gives a subtle breeze that carries voices that could be heard from high above.
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?
The Creature That Opened My Eyes Sympathy, anger, hate, and empathy, these are just a few of the emotions that came over me while getting to know and trying to understand the creature created by victor frankenstein in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. For the first time I became completely enthralled in a novel and learned to appreciate literature not only for the great stories they tell but also for the affect it could have on someones life as cliché as that might sound, if that weren’t enough it also gave me a greater appreciation and understanding of the idiom “never judge a book by its cover.” As a pimply faced, insecure, loner, and at most times self absorbed sophomore in high school I was never one to put anytime or focus when it came time
It was a rainy Saturday in Town Name all that could be heard was the rain hitting the concrete. All of the students were at Bar Name, all except Katy, she was sitting on the sidewalk outside of her apartment crying in the rain. After all how could she enjoy her night when Eric was not with her? It would not be possible for Katy to have any fun without the man she loved by her side, but he didn’t care. He has Carly now, Katy no longer meant to him what he meant to her and she was not able to control it. How could he have moved on so quickly? He must have never loved me, he must have been using me for sex, he must not have thought about our future like he said he did, if he truly wanted a future with me he would be here, he would not have left,
It was dark that night, I was nervous that this dreadful day was going to get worse. Sunday, October 23, 1998 I wanted to start writing this to tell about the weird things i’m starting to see in this new neighborhood. Gradually I keep seeing pots and pans on the sink suddenly move to the floor. I would ask my sister but she is out with my mom and dad getting the Halloween costumes. When they got home I didn’t tell them what I saw because i've seen Halloween movies and I have to have dissimulation otherwise the ghost will come out and get me first. October 24, 1998 I think I got a little nervous yesterday with the whole ghost thing. 12:32pm, Went to eat lunch with the family today and I go to get my coat. I heard the words furious and madness,
One of the most unique creatures are fish. As I am sitting here in my room, my fish are swimming about with not a care in the world. I wonder what it would feel like to be a fish.