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?
'Better to live happy and die poor, than to live rich and die wretched' seems to be the general notion about the place, as an air of optimism makes its way across the playground. It is a Friday morning and the weekend seems so close. It can almost be tasted and the thought of a long, interminable, uneding sleep is a solace that constructs this impeccable scene.
In the distance, the ringing of a phone can be heard as fog drifts over the playground. Through the mist and fog, a boy can be seen climbing onto a roof, collecting his ball. He climbs as sure-footed as a cat and ignores the warnings from his peers. Hurried scampering is seen, as students scurry into the building hoping for warmth and shelter. There are some, though, who brave the conditions and continue to go about their business like warriors.
The teachers bring out their cups of cocoa as they patrol the school field looking for any signs of mischief. The smell of freshness journeys the air, moving and gliding through each molecule.
Children from the older years administrate the playing area, whilst those from the younger try to negotiate some space. In the far corner of the playground, students seem to be talking, predicting the weekends' results.
It was similar to the suburban street I grew up on, but in lieu of cookie-cutter houses with stale Bermuda grass, there stood wood cabins with yards covered in snow. The reddish-orange light emanating from the towering street lights pierced through a white fog and gently illuminated the area. Exiting the car, I was overwhelmed with a flurry of new sensations. The gently falling snow absorbed all of the sounds I was used to hearing in a residential area.The low hum of passing cars, birds singing from the trees, and the sound of blowing wind appeared to be muffled, even silenced, by the steady falling snow. I felt enveloped in a cool, but somehow familiar blanket. The smell of burning wood was coming from every direction, as each house I looked at had a thin, grayish plume rising gently from the chimney. The plumes represented the warmth and comfort of the many people I imagined to be nestled by the fire. Looking down the street, I noticed how freshly plowed it was. A thin layer of snow and ice-- like icing on a cupcake, or the glass top on my parent’s nightstand-- covered the street. But on the side of the street sat a pile of snow that could have swallowed me alive. Feeling taunted, I stood there and weighed my options. Chest deep mounds of frozen crystals begged me to dive in and lose myself. Preparing to succumb to the temptations before me, I was momentarily hindered by the fear of my parent’s wrath. But had that ever stopped me
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.
It is not even an inch, but even the slightest bit of snow will stop the whole town. The school district decided to cancel school for the day. Mia’s parents also choose to skip work and plan for the day ahead of them. The family decides to drive to their grandparents’ house, despite the slippery and wet roads. Her Dad sits behind the wheel, and the rest of the family piles into the car after him.
A thick plume of black smoke and ash hung in the air in a heavy haze, almost completely obscuring the lurid red glow of the waning sun. Below, a cloud of grey plaster dust twisted and writhed amid the sea of debris as intermittent eddies of wind gusted by.
Birds chirping and children playing on every street corner, giggling and jumping rope. Every street is complete with several nice houses and big yards with white fences to accompany them. Every house has a happy family to live in it, a few children who joyfully skip home from school every day, a father and mother who come home after work each day, all without a care in the world. Each family is living a comfortable life able to afford most things and able to easily and quickly save for things not quite in their reach. There are no worries about how much money there will be to buy groceries after the bills are paid or what the family will have to give up to be able to keep a certain comfort that they currently enjoy. Each family in this town is living a picture perfect life that they would not trade for the world.
“Are you sure I can’t just transfer schools?”. A question I had asked a billion times over. “100%. I promise you, you will be okay”. My mom rubbed my back as my head dropped onto the cold kitchen counter. I didn’t want to hear that I would be okay. I wanted them to let me have my way. “You’re in your last year what difference would it make”. My brother joined the conversation as if someone had asked. I rolled my eyes, letting him know his opinion was being recognized and very neatly filed in the trash bin in my brain. I made my way to my bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, burying my face into the pillow. My parents were right, I could handle it. I just didn’t want to.
Mark Torello gave the snowstorm five school buses. Nobody believed the storm would actually come, given past events. The whole winter consisted of swings and misses with school closings. Dean Gulberry gazed upon the bright television screen, in hopes of a school cancellation. Dean wasn’t an average kid, because he was stupid. As the schools were flashing across the screen, Dean was drinking an absurd amount of pop. Dean let out a satisfying belch, when he saw his school got cancelled. He found this a surprise, because Mark Torello never got anything right. The two shared a trait of being stupid. Now that school is no more, Dean has decided to ponder what activities this day will hold. Little does Dean know (because he’s stupid) he’d get into
This chilling day began as all days did… with nothing out of the ordinary until the incident had occurred. All school days at Greenwich, Connecticut High School, had started with me not being able to get out of bed, but finding a way to pull myself together to look presentable, but something was different today than how it normally was. The wind that blew the colorful leaves and scattered naked branches, blew peculiar. The ground felt harder and raw as I walked to school unsure of what had changed from the time I had set foot outside the night before.
The snow that was predicted to be several inches by the end of the weekend quickly piled up to around eight inches by that evening. At times, the snow was falling so heavily you could hardly see the streetlights that glistened like beacons in a sea of snow. With the landscape draped in white, the trees hangi...
I will always remember the moment my daughter was laid in my arms, there was no greater feeling. I was joyful and full of ecstasy. Fast forward a year later and it hit, like an ocean of bricks, I was depressed. My sweet little girl needed too much from me. She wanted to play, color, run everywhere and cling to me. I felt I could not be the mother she needed me to be. I was with her every second of every day, little to no adult interaction separate of talking to my husband. I needed out and to break free. Everything set me off and nothing could help me. My husband’s thoughts were I just needed to work and get out of the house, have more me time. What I needed was an escape.
The hallways always seemed to have a chill around this place. The cold, crisp, and synthetic air the roamed through the interior of the Venator Class cruiser (fig. 1) felt better than naturally produced oxygen of a planet. Too hundreds of thousands of clone soldiers, Venator Class cruisers were home. After being in countless battles, the cruiser known as The Providence had become a well-known vessel amongst the outer rim territories. This cruiser was what CT-2532 called home. CT-2532 was just his rank number, he preferred to be called Jex.
It bent and twisted into a grotesque position. It was a glamorous, fall Saturday morning in Barrington. It was around 12:15 pm. The sun was shining and there were lots of little clouds in the sky. My sister and I had just finished our exhausting, two hour practice.
Summer has come to an end and school back in full swing. One is ready to crush the challenges facing a 5th grader. The last bell for recess sounds. Young boys race outside to enjoy the sun’s warmth. Name calling and horse-playing around immediately begins as they plan their weekend fun. Challenging each other to execute silly acts or daring one another to flirt with the girls across the playground. One yells out if you don’t jump from the top you are a sissy. Then one hears ask Julie out first. Recess is almost over when another one yells out he won’t…he’s a gay sissy. Silence has now blanketed the playground and one could hear a pin drop. Saved by the bell it was time to line up and head back to class. The final bell of the day
It was finally the first day of school; I was excited yet nervous. I hoped I would be able to make new friends. The first time I saw the schools name I thought it was the strangest name I’ve ever heard or read, therefore I found it hard to pronounce it in the beginning. The schools’ floors had painted black paw prints, which stood out on the white tiled floor. Once you walk through the doors the office is to the right. The office seemed a bit cramped, since it had so many rooms in such a small area. In the office I meet with a really nice, sweet secretary who helped me register into the school, giving me a small tour of the school, also helping me find
November 25, 2012. That day, or should I say night that changed everything. My best friend/sister of six years decided she no longer wanted to be friends with me. She looked me in the eye and said, “It’s just not the same.” Most people would say that’s not such a big deal, it happens all the time. In most situations it wouldn’t have been a big deal but that night I would soon realize that my life was going to spiral out of control and I was going to witness a domino effect like no other.