The Runaway - Original Writing The sun was just appearing above the distant hills. I was sat bolt upright, in the same position I had been all night. Shivers were running through me and all I could hear was the violent rain and howling wind, rattling the bus stop I had taken shelter in. The road was empty and had been all night. Sudden light blinded me. Houses opposite were just waking. I longed to be inside one of them with someone who really loved and cared about me. Instead I was cold, wet, tired and alone. I felt empty and unwanted. All I could think of was the now distant, yet still prominent in my mind, argument. "Liar!" Was the last word my mum had said to me. I wasn't lying. Why wouldn't she believe me? Rage was building up inside me. I hadn't done anything; it was him hitting me, not the other way round. But he was the one tucked up in a nice warm bed, dry, heating on, away in the land of nod. Whereas I was there cold, miserable and wet. Nothing to do, nothing to see, only animals for company. And she had the cheek to call me selfish! "You just can't bear to see me happy." Were the exact words she'd used. I bet she hadn't even noticed I'd gone; either that or she didn't care. He'd have only noticed when he realised his own personal punch bag was gone. Street lights flickered as they were been turned off. The gloomy light was lifting. I could only guess it must have been around 6am as I hadn't had time to get my watch, in my rushed escape. I looked round the bus stop, which was obviously once red, but now more brown than anything. Graffiti was everywhere, making it a little brighter but that didn't lift my mood. The whole shelter was strewn with litter. Crisp packets, chocolate bar wrappers; it just reminded me of my hunger. Fear began to kick in again, my stomach turned.
Later in the same conversation, “ ‘Do you understand why it’s inappropriate to use a word like ‘love’?’ Mother asked. Jonas nodded, ‘Yes, thank you, I do,’ he replied slowly. It was his first lie to his parents. Jonas has never lied to anyone before.
Susan is running a mile and she says to herself “I’m just going to give up and walk it.” Yet, she still push herself to run. What drove her to do it? What in general drives people take on a mission and accomplish them? People may have different reasons to be driven to undertake and accomplish a mission; however many share similar characteristics. People are motivated to achieve a goal by wanting wealth, wanting to survive, and wanting to get something they greatly desire.
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.
The sky was fading it’s original color and all of the sudden there was darkness all around us. In that moment we knew that the rumble was about to start. We all heading where the fight was about to began that when we met all of our gang. The greasers were ready to fight then the socs were already arriving in their mustangs. “Hey ponyboy stand behind me alright,” I said. “Yes Darry I will be okay,” Ponyboy stated. I was making sure that my baby brother was okay. I can not loose my baby brother just like I lost my parents. I promise them I will take care of them no matter what happens. The greasers and the socs were ready to start the rumble. Suddenly Dally came to join us that is when we started to fight. Tiny drops of water was starting to
My writing as a poet has been heavily influenced by writers like Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni, Alice Walker and Slam poets such as Black Thought and the Last Poets. These writers write and speak about the struggles and uniqueness of Black culture. Their individual experiences and political stances as well as the influences of other artist are evident in their work. For example in Giovanni’s poem “Revolutionary Music” she quotes some of the lyrics from Sam Cooke and James Brown to illustrate her personal views on racism and the equal rights movements. Hughes in his piece titled “Message to the President” skillfully incorporates the political events of his time into his poem using it to sardonically articulate his view on racial inequalities that were occurring in his time. Black Thought and the Last Poets utilize jazz and urban hip hop along with their idea of Black to relay their message.
My stepmother (from here on out I will refer to her as my mom) says that throughout her pregnancy
in one of the bags; he rubbed a small amount of the white powder onto
I'm going to get my hair done later on so I better get mum to make an
Aunt Leslie then snapped me out of my deep thought asking whether I was okay. I told her I was even if it was obviously a complete lie. "So shall we go back to Geraldine tomorrow morning? Or would you like to leave in the evening?"
The Match - Original Writing Drums beating, hearts racing, sweat dripping. Eleven men with their
"Right from the beginning, I always strived to capture everything I saw as completely as possible", a quotation from Norman Rockwell (1894-1978), one of the most popular and prolific US painter in the 19th century. This painting is named “The Runaway” done in 1958 that first appeared on The Saturday Evening Post, September 20, 1958 (cover). It’s a painting on oil on canvas and the dimensions are 91cm x 85 cm and it is now conserved in the “The Norman Rockwell Museum of Stockbridge” (Massachusetts). This painting depicts a realistic scene where we see a little boy sitting with a police man sitting beside him and their gaze is directed towards each other. The cook is watching his elbows on the counter. So we can conclude that this painting belongs to the realistic movement.
Growing up, we are always told to never lie because it is the worst thing you could ever do. “Lying will only lead to a horrible situation with less than mediocre results. While lying is not always good, it is not always bad either. Samuel Butler once said “Lying has a kind of respect and reverence with it. We pay a person the compliment of acknowledging his superiority whenever we lie to him.
The wood was enormous. It was dark and it was cold and I needed to get
As we arrived at the airport, I stared in awe at the size and beauty