There once was a kitten sitting in the shade of a big tree. She sat there every day waiting for her mother to come home while she guarded a beautiful stone her mother had given her. Her mother told her it was a very precious stone and that she must guard it lest someone try to steal it. One day while she sat there‚ a crow came by. “What are you doing in the shade kitten?” asked the crow. “I am watching over a stone my mother so that nobody steals it‚” replied the kitten. She pulled back her paw
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“Come here!” I urged “I can’t!” He sobbed‚ holding his wound. He slid to the ground‚ groaning. I clumsily loped my way over to him and grabbed his ankles. I turned and started dragging him to the tent‚ digging my feet into the ground. A lioness’s strength poured through me. Adrenaline surged through my blood‚ giving me the power I needed to carry a 180 pound man (with gear on). I reached the tent‚ a mere 20 or so feet away. I bent down and lifted him slowly onto a low table‚ about two feet off
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Petunia and Dudley jumped. “OUT! OUT! I should’ve done it years ago! Owls treating the place like a rest home‚ puddings exploding‚ half the lounge destroyed‚ Dudley’s tail‚ Marge bobbing around on the ceiling‚ and that flying Ford anglia — OUT! OUT! You’ve had it! You’re history! You’re not staying here if some loony’s after you‚ you’re not endangering my wife and son‚ you’re not bringing trouble down on us‚ if you’re going the same way as your useless parents‚ I’ve had it! OUT!” Harry stood
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The scream is cut off when a meaty hand covers my mouth. No longer wearing shades‚ I can now see Paul’s face smiling a devil’s grin at me. One of his eye sockets is a horrible‚ gaping hole. I focus on the other one and instantly regret it when I see the malice there. “How are you‚ my little siren?” His laugh is low and malicious as I start to struggle in his grasp. “Thought you were going to get away that easy? Well‚ you thought wrong. Now that the compound has moved to police headquarters‚ there
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“ Y/N wait!” My feet hit the cold tile and I frantically grabbed my coat off the floor. “No Dan! I”m Sick of all your lies‚ “Going out to get groceries” “Hanging out with Phil” I’m not just going to stay around and being treated this way!” I grab my phone and throw some mix matched shoes on‚ going so fast that I don’t care what I look like just wanting to get out of there. I grab the door handle and swing it open. “Wait...I...I” I sigh and lean against the door frame every
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The day he left‚ I felt lost‚ broken‚ empty. Everything was going to be different. There would be no one to go fishing with on Sunday afternoons‚ no one to help me with my school work—not anymore‚ because he was leaving. Mother told us he would be okay and reassured us every night when we prayed together that he would come back. She said that when the train went whistling by next spring‚ he would be back in our arms‚ safe from all the chaos‚ away from the guns and bombs. We would be able to go fishing
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I was barely twelve years old when I first met Livi. She stood under the tree patiently‚ beckoning me with a large‚ red bow wrapped around her. Her screen gleamed with pride as she watched a look of excitement fill my face. Awestruck by her beauty‚ I gently enclosed her in my hands before racing up the stairs. For the next few months‚ my protectiveness continued‚ and I spent almost every waking moment with Livi. She was beside me to wake me in the morning‚ chat with me during school‚ and entertain
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“Attended many dances as a teen. I’m shocked I can still remember any of it‚” he smiles. Barba’s face was so close to his and how he wanted to kiss him more than ever. It took a lot for him to resist the notion. “Just like riding a bicycle‚” Barba jokes. Carisi thinks to himself‚ “I’d like to ride you like a bicycle.” “Something wrong?” Barba stares at him. Carisi was so glad he was unable to hear the inappropriate thoughts going on in his head. “No‚ nothing‚” he shakes his head and soon the
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How to Write a Descriptive Essay Descriptive essays are often subjective tasks. The first issue at hand is to make sure you know what type of paper you are writing. The descriptive essay is often creative‚ personal‚ or simply artistic. Discuss the assignment with your professor or teacher before you begin. Even though your descriptive essay is more personal than a standard five-paragraph or compare-contrast essay‚ there is still quite a bit of homework to be done. Here is a list of important rules
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delved into the written word I began to recognize writing as a powerful tool for expression. I turned to poetry and short stories to capture childhood moments‚ expanding my vocabulary and becoming skilled at transferring raw emotions and ideas onto paper. My parents encouraged me to make frequent trips to the library‚ and I often staggered home beneath the weight of a pile of novels. When I entered high school as a published author and poet‚ my writing continued to mature. Although I still marveled
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