Creative Writing: Dexter

Sunshine was pouring out from in between the buildings, casting shadows all around Ponyboy and the gang as they walked to Pony’s school. They were taking their time walking down the streets and for the first time they all were really seeing what was all around them. Memories were surfacing in their minds showing them what it all meant to them. With every step they took on the sidewalk they remembered a different memory as if they were walking down memory lane. Ponyboy didn’t think it was possible for him to be walking down this street for the last time as a high school student, but he had gone through the years with great grades that earned him many scholarships.

Back in the main level of the factory, Wolf and Fox find Hawk lying on the ground, pale and unresponsive, his bulletproof vest next to him and the edges of a red stain showing around a wad of gauze. A soldier that Fox assumes is N-Unit's medic kneels next to him, along with Snake and Coyote. The three medics are talking frantically among themselves. The rest of N-Unit hovers nervously nearby; the rest of H-Unit is nowhere to be seen. Dust particles dance through the beams of sunlight from the holes where windows used to be, giving the whole scene a strangely dreamy air.

Dexter was interviewed by Mrs. Emily Hutcheson at the Elmore County Child Advocacy Center. Dexter reported he was 6 years old and enjoys playing with his friends at school and playing his X-Box. Dexter reported that the following day he will be graduating from Kindergarten. He stated that his teacher name is Ms. Matthews. He stated that today in class they made bags to put all of their supplies and pictures in. Dexter stated he lived with Logan Riddle (his step-dad‘s son), his step-dad, Craig Riddle, his mother, his 2 sisters, and Logan McCoy. He stated that his step-father is nice but doesn’t like how he cooks. He stated he felt safe with his step-dad and he never did anything bad. He stated his mom is nice but when she is mad she spanks them

You could feel the riot before you could see it. There was something else in the crisp early morning New York air, a certain electricity. A certain static that could only have been brought about by the winds of change. Even at three am the city is usually alive, but in these early Saturday morning hours Christopher Street was more alive than usual. However, it wasn't the normal flamboyant energy it had come to been known for. It was an angry energy, one that's only capable of being created by an oppressed group fed up with the constant mistreatment they've too long endured.

His blood was on my clothes and on my skin. They had my fingerprints imprinted in the stuff. It was all the evidence they needed. It was all the evidence anyone would need. I didn’t kill him, though. Honest.

as Duncan goes into Manuel’s dorm he sees his gf changing he apologized and was starting to walk away until she grabbed his hand and brought him in the room with her. She shuts the door behind them before anyone could notice. As Duncan was trying to apologize Manuel’s gf didn’t want to hear it. Instead, she went on Duncan and whispered “this is what happens when you stare” then she takes her bra off as she starts to make out with Duncan. While this is all happening Duncan wanted to leave but then he was kinda enjoying the feeling of what was happing at that moment. For some reason, Manuel wasn’t what was on her mind anymore she just wanted to have Duncan… all of him… as she takes his pants off and finds out that Duncan was excited for what

In the year of 1942 on a sunny day there was a family that was hiking in Deadwood, SD. They were hiking by these tall pine trees. They were different colors….some of them were a very dark red, several trees were dark and light green, many trees were kind of like a weird yellow greenish color.

The man had his hands clasped behind his back as he was looking out the large bay window. They remained that way even as he turned at the high priestess's bidding. The man had very large hands, and they were covered in matte black leather gloves that did not reflect the light. Even indoors the man was wearing a great coat of the same matte leather, and it had tarnished silver buttons that ran in two rows from the neck down and were done up. The coat had a high collar that was strained by a thick, bullish neck. Atop that neck sat a long face with high cheekbones, a lantern jaw, and a strong chin. The man's eyes were an unnatural blue that shone with their own luminescence. His hair was blue-black, cropped short at the sides and swept back like

One day there was a babysitter named john and 5 baby’s and their names where john Jr. bob, frank at 12 o'clock the phone RANG and the girl said “hello” but no one said anything and when I looked outside I seen a girl looking at me and John said who are u get off my property and the girl said nothing.

“Okay, this all started with my great great grandpa, have you ever heard of Jack the Ripper? Well anyway, I come from a long line of bad people. When I saw you I instantly fell in love. My father was the one that prepared me for this. I had been so nervous and I was walking down the street. My father told me that when the right ‘prey’ I would stumble across I would know. I saw you walking there all alone and looking gorgeous and I couldn’t do anything we had planned this night for weeks. The perfect hiding place, down on kings street so no one would hear for twelve hours. I had everything. All of the tools I would be using for killing you. My father always told me that you must inflict as much pain as possible. Just as I was going to start to tie untie your hands so I could suspend you by the chain in the room hanging from the ceiling. Then I recalled on something my father told me early on, always look them in the eyes. So I did, I looked into your eyes, no your soul and saw good. I knew I couldn’t get rid of the good in such a bad place that is earth. When I looked into your eyes I saw myself. What I could be and

He just proceeded to walk forward and once again officer Jackson asked him even louder than last time, because he was frustrated.

"Well I'm certainly not putting that in my mouth. I can smell it from here. And it's a school night you bad influence." Buffy's nose scrunched at the smell of the beer in Spikes hand. At some point Buffy had let herself get dragged into a demon bar-to Spikes hilarity and her seemingly endless suffering. Things with hairy horns and extra eyes were out to play in full tonight and Buffy kept mentally checking her stowed stakes. She thought about Giles taking in the sights here, breaking out dusty texts classifying whatchamacallit monsters and who's it type creatures. She definitely shouldn't be here.

Writing is a skill that everyone develops differently. Writers have developed their own ways to write and to communicate to the readers their ideas, thoughts or stories, these ways are not the same by all the authors. For example, Imagination is something unique to each person, and it gives the special magic for each written. Some writers can describe their style and inspiration different from the others. As these four writers which talent involve more and more people every day: Stephen King, Wally Lamb, Karen Thompson and Marcus Zusak. Each of these persons with different ways of expression and inspiration, but with the same vocation. Initially, Stephen King, who thinks that to star writhing its necessary, just one idea

I remembered we would play games at that tree. The tree was very dead, so dead not even Freddy Krueger could haunt it. but we would give it life, we were the care givers. That never happened... I remember when we would decorate it with crafts we made, she would buy crayons from the dollar store, we would then bring paper to draw on, awe would then carry our supplies in a satchel that she gave to me, and we would walk to our tree, then we would sit down take out our crayons and color. After her death, I stopped going to that tree, for one reason I felt so lonely, another reason was that I kinda thought many people would probably be judging me say, "Hey, look at that crazy kid sitting under that tree!" Also because my mom said that

My sword and armor were still dripping with blood as I stood before the hall the so-called “Demon King” resided in. I could always dispel and resummon them to fix that, but having a shiny weapon and armor would just look so out of place with my blood drenched hair. An outfit has to match, even at its worst. I pointedly ignored the fact that I was wearing glowing, translucent armor over jeans and a graphic t-shirt.