I sat and waited for the bell. Overwhelmed with all the homework I had, I almost didn’t want to leave. Watching Tony Rusher and his possy plan for mischief night was getting boring, so I started to daydream. In the blink of an eye, everyone was gone. I guess I just had gotten used to the bell. I grabbed my stuff, I headed out the door. A minute or two must have gone by, because I was one of the only people left in the hall, and they were playing that annoying song. Every friday they play that song. It’s about being good and always doing the right thing. By now I have pretty much memorized the song but this time it sounds different. It sounds like there is yelling. I thought something was happening is the office and I could just hear it over the loudspeaker. Then I noticed a backpack and a book next to the bathroom door. Your not aloud in there after school hours and if someone is, you have to report it. I just figured the office was busy so I didn’t bother. …show more content…
As I walked towards the bathroom, I could almost pick out the words. “Stop, Stop!” said the voice. I walked a little closer. “Please don’t hurt me!” they said again. I knew something was wrong. I threw down my backpack, and hesitantly ran in. I tried to stay quiet to see what was going on. Surely enough it was Tony Rusher and his “sidekick” Tommy Gilmore. They stopped right away as they were holding Marvin against the wall. They both stood up in sync and walked towards me. I completely regretted my choice to
When the bell rings, the flow of the music is broken. different pieces of music appear randomly and everything seems out of order. The movement then changes into a dance music, a dance of the monsters, like a carnival is happening. The rapid rhythm near the ending and the silence when the movement finally reaches its terminal marks the end of the musician’s nightmare as well as his
Growing up as an only child I made out pretty well. You almost can’t help but be spoiled by your parents in some way. And I must admit that I enjoyed it; my own room, T.V., computer, stereo, all the material possessions that I had. But there was one event in my life that would change the way that I looked at these things and realized that you can’t take these things for granted and that’s not what life is about.
I walked in and my stomach made a flip-flop like riding “The Scream” at Six Flags. Everyone was staring at me! With their curios eyes and anxious to know who I was. I froze like ice and felt the heat rise through my face. My parents talked to my teacher, Ms.Piansky. Then my mom whispered “It’s ti...
11:14 p.m.-I slowly ascend from my small wooden chair, and throw another blank sheet of paper on the already covered desk as I make my way to the door. Almost instantaneously I feel wiped of all energy and for a brief second that small bed, which I often complain of, looks homey and very welcoming. I shrug off the tiredness and sluggishly drag my feet behind me those few brief steps. Eyes blurry from weariness, I focus on a now bare area of my door which had previously been covered by a picture of something that was once funny or memorable, but now I can't seem to remember what it was. Either way, it's gone now and with pathetic intentions of finishing my homework I go to close the door. I take a peek down the hall just to assure myself one final time that there is nothing I would rather be doing and when there is nothing worth investigating, aside from a few laughs a couple rooms down, I continue to shut the door.
It was a the day of the concert! Ring! Ring! My alarm clock went off! I ...
Her maroon converse made no sound as she strode through the hallway. She seemed to look at everyone while ignoring every eye. She entered the pricipals office, the halls were quiet until a certain badboy yelled, "SCORE!" As if rising from a trance, everyone resumed
Špicking over the vegetables, as out of a murky fog, I realized that my foot was tapping out a sonorous beat, apparently out of my concentration. What's more amazing, I now see, is that the lazy rhythm from my foot matches a melody which has been ringing behind my thoughts as I decided what kind of onions to buy&emdash;also without me being fully aware of it. All of a sudden, a minor physical revulsion causes me to set down my basket on the produce, my body trying to exorcise this foreign invasion. What is this thing? And that tune! It sounds like a watered-down version of Eric Clapton's acoustic "Layla", terribly deflated and played by a bunch of sixty-year-old orchestra players&emdash;I am still not too sure. But it will not seem to go awayŠ.the soothing sounds turn malicious as they bounce off the walls of the nutrition center, the meat department, housewares. Everyone I see is milling around like before, are they hearing what fills my ears? Is that same insidious song playing with their minds? Now that I focus on the music rambling from the loudspeaker in the ceiling, it appears as if they are all part of a silent movie&emdash;acting against a separate, unrelated soundtrack.
It was a cold, dark morning when the phone rang. It was boisterously loud and the clock read six o'clock. The deafening noise jolted us again, and there was only one way to make it stop. Chris picked up the phone and in a tired, drowsy voice, answered, "Hello."
went to sit down on the sofa. A few minuets later my food was ready
Personal Narrative There lay her limp body staring up at us. Her cold eyes were no longer
Leaving the bodies for last we walked down the drive to take a look. Several rifles and shotguns were leaned carefully again the big oak. Two handguns and some knives were on the grass in front of them. Four people dangled from a branch of the tree close enough to each other to bump like a weird wind chime. A young couple and the other twice their age at a guess from the gray hair and styles of dress. They were probably parents and a married son or daughter with their spouse. Other than being hung there were no injuries apparent on any of the four. From the condition of the bodies they had been dead about a day.
This is a personal story to me, to understand this story we will have to start at from beginning. I hope you enjoy this story and it is both entertaining and heartwarming to you as I am sharing a personal event in my life. Join me on this journey of discovery as I unveil one of the darker mysteries in my life.
It was all fun and games until we heard the sirens. We went to the cops terrified that we were in so much trouble but we didn't know why, once the police told us we did nothing wrong, we all learned a very important lesson. Ask for permission before you do things. It was a bright sunny summer day in August and my friends and I went down to CMH high school to play football. Me and my friend were captains and we picked out teams. A couple of touchdowns later we heard the sirens “Wee-Woo Wee-Woo”,we were scared out of our minds.
Without warning, the lights went dark. This was the moment I had been waiting for. My adrenaline went through the roof. The time had finally come that I would get to see and hear my first live concert.
Have you ever been scared for the safety of a complete stranger? Have you changed somebody’s outlook on life just by being a Good Samaritan? Well, I have. It was a late Thursday night and I was in a bad part of town informally known as “The Knob.” I had been at a friend's house when we decided to leave to find somewhere to eat. On the way, my friend got a call from his mom telling him he had to be home. His house wasn’t really out of the way. As I pulled down Belle Avenue, towards his house, another friend of mine shouts out “Hey, pull over that guy just knocked that girl out” I instantly questioned this absurd accusation. “What? You’re joking.” As I turned around I noticed that he certainly wasn’t as I saw a middle-aged lady facedown on the pavement. Without hesitation I parked the car and we all ran over to see what was going on. You could see in the distance a man in an orange hooded jacket fleeing the scene. My friend attempted to wake this lady up. She was out cold. At this point each one of us had no idea what we should do. Obviously, the first thing we should have done was call the police, but let me remind you this was a bad part of town and didn’t know if we would be the next. Tommy, my friend, the nearest house and knocked on the door. A trashy looking man answered the door. After being informed that there was an unconscious lady in front of his house he scurried to her aid. The man then realized it was a good friend of his. Jane was her name. You could sense his anger and concern for this lady. He began to frantically ask questions. Who, what, when, where, why, how and every other sort of interrogation question was thrown our way. We described her assailant and which way he went. Evidently it was her boyfriend. At this ...