More handpicked essays just for you.
Effect of Stress on University Students
Open the door to creative writing
Academic stress among college students review of literature
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Recommended: Effect of Stress on University Students
“…the Mondawmin Mall and then the Towson Mall, after shopping, we will see the Pamlico race course and then Fort McHenry and....Maria I am suppose to be talking to you” she finally remembered.” “You were? I thought you were revising the map of Baltimore” “Oh yeah, we know what you’re thinking about, that stupid useless job you’re planning to waste the trip on” Sophia rolled her distinctly not pleased about it. “I know what you two are up to but I’m not into it, not at all into it” I declared. “We know what you are into, Maria; you don’t even care about our presence” said Roya. “No I do, believe me I do more than you think. I would have been much better if you two stayed in New York” Honest me. “No way were we staying back.
Located in the popular Yosemite National Park, Yosemite Falls is the tallest waterfall in California. Every year, mother nature’s breathtaking beauty attracts millions of people from around the world. People hike for three long and fatiguing hours in anticipation of witnessing forceful water rushing down the steep mountain from 2,425 feet above. Last summer, my family and I backpacked through the Yosemite Falls Trail and I came to learn what a truly exhausting experience it is.
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.
“No miss, I am just visiting my cousins for the summer. I’m actually from Saint Louis. Missouri.”
“Men, for many of you, today is your first day training as a Knight of Camelot,” said Prince Arthur to the group standing before him. “And be grateful you’re not stuck in a torrential downpour as I was on my first day of training here on this very field. The sun is shining and I plan to work you hard.”
I arrive home around 11:00 p.m. to a sleeping wife and child. I walked into my daughter Emily’s nursery to give her a kiss goodnight. I leaned in and placed my lips on her forehead as she lightly opened her eyes. I rubbed her back and sang softly to put her back to sleep.
“I wanted to see if you actually cared about me. That you would be honest.”
I can hear the hum of taxi cabs whizzing past me as I stand on the corner of the busy downtown street. New York City! I still can't believe that I'm here or that I'm staying here. Aunt Allison was so sweet to let me live in her place whilst she travels around south America. I step out onto the road when the traffic light changed from green to red.
Under a moonlit midnight at Arlington, the lovers made plans for a rendezvous. After making sure no one followed her, Isolde climbed over a wooden fence. Her infiltration of Harold’s home went unnoticed by everyone, including Tanja. She stood at the middle of the backyard and reached into her jacket. With a two-way radio on hand, she contacted Walther, her eyes focused at a second-floor window. “In position,” she informed him, “You can come down now.”
I grew up on the waterfront of the Columbia River. The quaint, picturesque town of Kalama Washington was my hometown from before I can remember. The damp small town emulated a coastal environment, complete with heavy rainfall and dim daytimes. Tired, worn down buildings clad in paint chipped walls and climbing ivy dot the streets and hills. Scenic post-card worthy views of the river stretch out before wide front windows. Tourists stampede through musty antique shops and 50’s themed diners, breathing in the retro town in all its vintage glory; only to discard its significance once entering the freeway. Umbrella carrying locals paint their aging homes pastel shades to combat the grey, gloomy veil blanketing the town. Everyone living in Kalama
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?
"If she did then why did you have to almost force her to go with you. I think you are taking this cool thing a little to far."
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
Further, south on Barton Avenue, Fanny once a month stops at the Epicurean store craving for a small order besides a complementary treat from the buffet as she lives on a tight budget on such fancy food. Monday morning, when she enters the Epicurean deli shop she finds a display of freshly prepared colorful appetizers and entrees. She buys some fish with spicy Asian sauce to take out. As she exits, Tom, one of her residence’s neighbor runs into her in front of the store.
As the sun slowly settled, darkness began to overcome the Earth. Sickness—had come. The sickness slowly but readily crept into each home. It was the Midnight Theft. The destructive plague stole during midnight—it stole lives. Deep in the heart of Tukenasville, people were dying, and the whole country was beginning to perish. The flowers withered as they bloomed. The mountain peaks crumbled under steer weight. Animals fled to holes to live out the final moments of their life. People were distraught, and chaos was invading every planet in the macrocosm. People called me Nikolaou Gonfalon. I was the last of the Warriors of Phos. Long ago, the Sisters of Moiré ordained my doomed fate. I tried to bargain with them to change it, but in the end, I captured them and locked them up in a repository on a cliff. I was to lead the expedition to find the cure for the Midnight Theft. That, however, was not the reason why I would go on this journey. My best friend, Tolem, was dying of a rare illness called Takigifeay. It was causing the slow built up of lactic acid on his bones. I knew that death would come to him soon. Legend spoke about a necklace that can bring life to anyone or thing. It was said to have been belonged to an Oceanian, one of the water people. The Lost Jade Necklace of Serenity was what it was called, and it could bring healing to the Earth. Nonetheless, it could be the obliteration of mankind, also. I began to pack since my journey was to start at that moment.