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This is the third and final section of my short descriptive story I wrote when I was 12. It's best if you read the first 2 sections before this one.
As I closed my eyes and went back to the dream, i returned to the factory. I was in the front entrance now, no sign of my friend, I guess he had realised that he didn't work here.
The painted houses clinging to the hillside glare orange with the late-afternoon sun. It is almost impossible to look across the harbour without shielding your eyes.
It's been almost a month since I woke up. Can't remember anything before then. There's twenty of us in this room, barely enough room for us to stand in.
Intro It doesn't feel like it was that long ago when I was first told I would be going to dark mouth elementary school. The name was a warning I casually ignored.
( A broken window) "I will never go back to that place!" They can never let me do their wicked plans!" he shouted at the clothes in his hands.
I lay in the sand, eyes shut. The sun beamed bursts of colour everywhere as little droplets of rain fell on to the sand and my face. Luckily this made my tears camouflaged.
This is a short story I wrote when I was 12. I had to describe someone in great detail so there are lots of adjectives. This is the first section, follow me and the next two will follow soon.
I watched in horror as his crimson red blood splattered the freshly painted walls of the New Year Inn. I had to. If I didn't they said they would murder my family.
The wind is strong and cold. I feel transparent as the night pours through and all around me. I am being followed by one who isn't there- and I couldn't care less.
Her deep, red eyes looked at the cat. Darke, she said her name was. Wherever the cat went her eyes would follow. Did she like Carly , my cat.
3rd January 1995 I wake up to find myself tied to a snow White bed. The width smaller than a normal single bed but big enough to hold a young adult like me. Around me I find medical equipment.
Killing is my Profession I slit his throat rather too quickly. Now, I regretted having to do it as it took away my artistic skills in creating a masterpiece of his death rather than an ordinary one.
She commandeered the room in the basement of her dorm as soon as she realized she would have to pull an all-nighter in order to prepare for tomorrow’s final exam.
~ Trying to Read A Closed Book ~ She awoke suddenly at the bottom of a cliff with the sea lapping over her aching limbs.
Please, if you do read this, I would LOVE feedback of any kind. *********************************** As we walked to the Art studios for our next lesson, Nate joined us.
I know the high-rise you live in I know the lifts don't work I know you hate the neighbour's cat Especially it's smirk.
The newspaper contained the one thing that he had been dreading would happen, for the last 5 years. An extract from Melissa's diary. How could this have happened.
It's a story about Jenny Loo. A girl with red braids and grey eyes. The story begins. "AAAAHH!!" - I heard a scream and ran up the stairs. The door was open. The window was broken.
Crunch. There it was again. Like the sound of someone stepping on a brittle twig and crushing it.
22/03/04 As I anxoiusly crept around the lifeless wall, a scream entered my ears. Huh. "Mika!. Is that you?!" But it was useless. I was the murderer. First kill...
I found a wallet, it was sat on the crack between two slabs of pavement as I was walking home from shopping.
"Ivy had pale skin, ginger plaits sliding down to her gentle feet, big bright beautiful blazing blue eyes. She sang, she laughed, she danced." I read.
-scene 1 street (drake and Aaron running) (drake gets shot on the back) Aaron:DRAKE!!!(falls down on knees and starts wailing)NO.