The Quest of Havana Coldness echos through the house as I climb into bed. I shiver, but the blankets keep me warm. Gran has agreed to tell me a story after all that has happened. I see gran’s dark figure appear at the door. Happiness bubbles in my stomach like a fizzy drink just poured-gran’s story’s always cheer me up. Gran sits down, the bed creaks-and she begins. “Once upon a time there was a door….” she begins. My eyes close, I feel drowsy and can't open my eyes. They're peeled shut. I can't see her but I can hear her words, they warm my heart. She finishes the story with a smile, a warm one. Gran had just said that there was a door, an old one that appeared every 1000 years in one house that could be anywhere in the world. Questions whiz through my head like ingredients …show more content…
There is no time for questions because we have to go straight away. 5mins is all we have. The mountains are steep and the path is rough but we carry on. I see a shiny object in the dirt and run to get it. It's the key. Rusty and shiny the key is. As I hand the key to the boy he immediately disappears. I scream as a monster comes toward us. I cover my eyes as the monster takes a leap. As I release my hands from my eyes I realise I'm back at gran's house and she's calling me for dinner. What had happened? I'll never know as the door isn't there anymore. But I'm determined to find it again. What I didn't know was that the village was in terrible danger and that I was the only who could save the village. My adventure may have been short but it depended on the village. The monster was killed but know one knew that the deadly creature had kids. I wondered if they would send a message across to me. But mow I didn't need to worry about the cruel, deadly monster. It was time for another one of gran's calming stories. I didn't know when and how I was going to do this but in my heart somewhere I knew I had to. To be
I woke, I started to run, but I couldn't escape, the walls were closing in. I started to hyperventilate. I jolted up, I grabbed my necklace and pressed the pendent, it glowed in the midnight lit room. Brucie was sitting were the board was. She looked annoyed, she told me not to speak with mother, but the lose drove me mad, I had to speak to her again.
The Republic of Cuba, as it is officially named, is a little country located in the Caribbean. Cuba is the greatest island in the Caribbean and it has over 11 million native habitants, making it be the second most populated after Hispaniola. Even though the capital of Cuba is Havana, its biggest city, the main island of it is Isla de la Juventud. Cuba also has a few of archipelagos and the second greatest city is Santiago de Cuba. The island is as close to The United States as 93 miles away and from Mexico as 130 miles away. In addition there are many countries close to the island like Jamaica, Haiti, the Dominican Republic and the Bahamas, just to name a few. In addition, Cuba is a beautiful
I have received your letter, are the children healthy and well? How are you lately? Have you been sick recently? I am fine, well, as right as one is capable of being over in this land. I have thought of you every second of every day, there is not one moment I have forgotten about you. I just wish to be back home again. Last time you said that Henry was feeling slightly ill, I have some medicine stashed away in the bottom cupboard near the grand clock. If he shall start to feel very poorly, you may go there and find him medicine. You will know which one it is once you see it, I do not want Henry to turn out like poor Will did.
The war has been more than I could ever imagine. I have seen such horrific sights, that will remain with me for as long as I live. War is not as they tell us back home. There is no dignity and pride in killing another man; there is only damage and grief. War is exhausting. Half of us do not even understand why we are here, except to kill the Germans. We just want to be home, even the Germans have families they miss too. The trenches we have been staying in have been especially brutal. We stay here for days on end, staring into fields of shrubbery, waiting for the Germans. Sleep is limited and cherished.
A city was fast asleep as the night shrouded it. The only ones awake were those who belong to the night. A young man ran down the sidewalk, panting heavily.
The Sonoran Desert is a magical place. In the sweltering heat of southwest Arizona, cacti cast ghostly shadows over sun-scorched dunes transforming the barren wasteland into a fantastical Dreamscape. Here, at the age of eight, I imagined myself overcoming insurmountable odds to vanquish phantom armies of alien invaders. Perhaps it was the immense desolation or simply the innocence of a child, but my make-believe conquests inspired within me the courage to dare dream dreams others deemed unattainable. History laments of Alexander weeping when he realized there were no more worlds to conquer. Retrospectively, one could argue that the “great one” simply lacked vision. Had he the foresight to conceptualize
Their legs ached as they forced themselves to keep walking down the same steep dirt road they had been walking for the last three hours.
One of the things I've seen is that the vast majority does not take a seat. They come in, get their beverage and go. The ones that take a seat stay any longer than it takes to devour their beverage. The beverage is only an accidental buy. Surely not the reason they arrive. Large portions of the general population who come in as a gathering are grinning when they enter. Half the same number of is grinning when they clear out. Individuals who come in alone commonly aren't grinning by any stretch of the imagination. There were a greater number of gentlemen than young ladies sitting without anyone else's input, and the general population who were talking in gatherings of a few were for the most part young ladies. The vast majority who strolled
The next morning, at nine o'clock precisely, I found myself on Ms. Donovan’s rickety front porch. My finger trembled as it pressed the discolored doorbell. My eyes shut instinctively out of the fear of what they might see when the door swung open. A rush of cold air surged past as Ms. Donovan answered the door. She simply smiled, urged a long to-do list into my hand, then shuffled past and went on her merry way.
These were not the gentle sheltered flame wisps that dwelled in stone lanterns, but rather the vicious wild flames that consumed all that they touched, raging wildly as they continued their relentless devouring.
As we walked through the woods on the dark cold night in October we notice screaming of what we had thought to be the neighbor girl. We creep closer to the large mansion and climb the gates to get in the massive front yard. As me and my friends Kevin, Douglas, and randy reach the front door, we slowly creep open the front door, we hear screams and yells and very quickly leave the situation. We head back to the house for the night and decide that we will make a plan and return to the mansion tomorrow.
The sweat on my cold palms glistened like glitter as I traced the path of my lifeline with my weary eyes. The waiting room was motionless while the crisp air conditioner in the hospital building pounded through the relentless eighty degree spring. A crinkled newspaper on the stand next to me was outdated and torn, as if someone has brutally thrown it aside during a monetary loss of the calm tide.
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
The bus comes to a sudden stop at the outskirts of the village, and from here, I’m on my own. The moon is shining bright and lighting the path, as I walk the trail over the hill. I’m feeling a little frightened every step I take towards my destination. Father always described Grandfather’s house as ancient, hidden, and isolated in a small village, deep in the himalayas. The thought of that makes me feel kind of eerie and strange. I’ve lost count of the many times that Grandfather came to visit me, so it’s finally time for me to see this creepy village that my Father refuses to enter. I’m not too sure of what Father’s reasoning is for not coming to meet his own Father, but whenever I ask him why, his face turns red and all I see is fear in his eyes. He
As I stand in front of the dark brown, wooden door with its small, yet beautiful etched glass window, I remember all of the times that I have passed through this portal and entered the warm, comforting rooms inside. Before entering, I take a step back to admire this old, stubborn house. It's a two-story, white house with a three-car garage attached to it. My grandpa built the entire house from the foundation up and a lot of the items in it. After observing this scene for a few minutes, I continue to enter the house. I slowly turn the brass knob of the door and anticipate the feeling of acceptance inside. As I open the door, a flood of warmth passes over and through...