Descriptive Essay: Are We Getting Suspended?

Based in the Medieval time period it was very well recognized that this was the time of knights in shining armor, adventure, and planned battles. In the readings “Le Morte d’Arthur” and “Sir Launcelot du Lake” written by Sir Thomas Malory, you are introduced to all of the great things of the Medieval time period. The major key concept that you are exposed to is the code of chivalry, which is a conduct code that all knights must follow. This conduct code can be summed up as the following: being brave, honest, loyal, modest, and courteous; Otherwise if not followed then the penalty would be death. As you begin to read these passages, you witness Sir Launcelot going on different journeys, and enduring different hardships proving himself to be loyal and the knight who falls all aspects of the code of chivalry to its full extent.

Modern attachment theory, which has now shifted to a regulation theory, takes Bowlby’s original work on attachment and looks at how early experiences, such as prenatal stress, optimal/suboptimal stress, and the mother’s ability to regulate the child’s needs, help the child form an internalized working model for attachment style due to the brain being an “experience-dependent organ” (Cozolino, 2010c; J. Schore & A. Schore, 2012).

For a prosperous start, most people would look for the most advanced technology or the newest ways to survive but in the 1600s nobody had a GPS or even a phone, so how would they be prosperous? First, I would assemble a great team of people who are willing to work together in any situation. Not a team that would jump ship at the sign of any problem they wouldn’t be able to handle. This team would need to know how to grow crops and gather fresh water for surviving. Another thing the group would need to know is how to build shelter quickly and efficiently. The New World they are exploring can get scary but as long as they stick together and have the necessary skills for survival, they can make it anywhere.

There was little to be said about a small town like New Hope. People didn't come to see their attractions, didn't come to even drop by to say hello. Hell, a lot of people that inhabited the rich lands of the town believed they were alone in the world. Forgotten. Leaving them to their ways of life without being disturbed by the bustling and hustling, stress filled ones of the city. Forgotten maybe, but that's how a lot of people wanted it.

“Is EN100 a useful class to take?,” this was a question I got asked by a junior at my school. They were looking for classes to take next year; I told them that it was an abundant amount of writing, but it was a great class to take. I went on to explain to them, that taking it in high school would be easier and cheaper than in college. Beginning to explain to them that it helped me grow as a writer and helped improve my English vocabulary, I realized it helped a whole lot. Throughout the first semester of school, we had to write essays over four different topics. These included informative, observation, reflection, and descriptive essays. I told them about my experiences while writing with these certain types of essays. This is what I said:

She is small and sharp and angular. Her elbows hurt when they're pressed tightly against you and her small fingers dig into your sides. She rests her chin on your shoulder and it sinks into you. Her fingers are flat- but you always remember them flatter than they are. In your mind, they are a 2D part of her. Her hair looks as if someone set it aflame. It reminds you of October, of the orange, crisp leaves. While you are in no way overweight, you are definitely softer than her. Her hands are delicate, you’re always afraid you’ll crush them, so you hold her hand loosely. You can’t decide what color her eyes are. At first, they seem blue, but the next time you see her you could swear they’re green, and occasionally they look a stormy grey.

I look out the small oval window as my carriage makes it way along the ruff, jerky and jarring dirt road. The darkness makes the tree branches look as if they are reaching out towards me, causing me a slight feeling of unease. The rain bashing hard against the window reminds me of the night it all happened. As my carriage travels over a large bump I am jolted in my seat, startling me as my mind had drifted to memories of that dreadful night. I try to look away from the window and think of something else when a loud crack of thunder alarms me. More memories from that night. I look down to my hands in my lap and realise that I have been nervously moving them together subconsciously, ‘a nervous habit I need to stop’ I think to myself. I wonder how far away I am from the destination? I again look out the window and notice how dark the night looks, caused by the dark storm clouds and gigantic trees that loom overhead.

I was wasted. I can see the colors again. When I tell this to people they look at me like i just grew two heads. This has been happening to me since i was 19 and drank in my parents basement. Now i'm 22. I've grown to learn what the colors mean. I believe they're auras. Why i only see them while i'm drunk, i dont know. I take a peek at the bartender. He was a strapping young man. Young and beautiful. 24 at the most. He was tall and brawny with black hair and a bit of a stubble. He had beautiful light blue eyes, which was magnificent with his dark complexion. He had a pink aura, as i did. A person walks over and sits by me. She's petite with beautiful black curly hair in a ponytail. She had dark, smooth skin. She had strikingly beautiful facial features. A sharp jaw line and a perfectly contoured nose and face. Her beauty looked natural though.Her aura was a light lavender color.

People stared pouring into the house. It took at least 5 minutes for the house to be full of people. Half the people here were not on list, I guess the word of a party spread through out the school.

I walk through the halls wearing the same yellow sweater, ripped jeans and black boots as every other girl. They all turn their heads with their long straight hair. As I walked I saw a girl walking towards me, texting wearing the same thing as me. I reflected back to 4th grade when I had bought the most popular costume available. The dress, a blue and white car hop costume, was light blue with little flowers, the material felt scratchy, I kept itching the neck where the tag irritated my skin. But to a 10 year old me, that outfit was everything. When I saw her wearing the costume, I felt unbelievably embarrassed!I had worked tirelessly to get my long curly hair into a neat little side bun. It seemed to hold 500 bobby pins in it. My little hat perfectly placed on my head. My mother had done my makeup too. My costume perfectly ironed and without a single spot, I smoothed it with my little hands, so content with my costume. Yet she was wearing my costume.

I lift myself up and as soon as my feet touch the floor my body gets the chills of a cold hard wood floor. I man up and walk over to my little “office desk” and turn of the alarm, there was only the silence of nature's music. I took a moment to listen to the music and sighed to myself, a content sigh. I look back at the clock and it now says 5:35 AM time to get ready. I walk over to my closet door and put on the outfit from the boutique I’ve officially named the outfit Courtney. I opened the door and made my way over to the hallway bathroom next to my room and curled my wavy hair while looking at myself in the mirror. I have red wavy hair and dark green eyes I also have a few freckles on my nose and cheeks. My face is kind of diamond shaped and my features are pretty decent. Not to sound conceited but I always have though I was pretty, not supermodel pretty but average pretty. Otherwise I try to be humble with everything that I do so I don't give off the wrong expression. Anyways back to getting ready I think to myself, I continue to curl my hair for a few more seconds, as soon as I finish I comb through my hair with a brush and then bam instant “insta-glam hair!” Pleased with my look I walk out and turn off the bathroom light before leaving the bathroom. As I walk past my room down the hallway I notice that I’m the only one up Courtney must still be asleep. I wouldn’t blame her it was a long day yesterday of shopping and searching for clothes. As I walk down the stairs into

The three of us head back to the motel. We ask if we need to drop Bella off at her house. She responds with a quick, harsh no. I have the feeling she isn’t telling us something… We race to the room and I get there first. I laugh in Justin’s face as he pulls out the couch. We don’t go to bed immediately. We stay up talking.

The alarm goes off at six in the morning. With the whole world still asleep, I get up and put on my basketball gear. My eyes hardly open and my muscles refuse to get out of the warmly made bed. My dad comes down with a rather keen smile plastered all over his face. He asks if I’m ready to go. I reply with a simple nod of my head. The feeling of the cold water from the sink suspends the feeling of collapsing muscles. But the day is long from over.

“Why does college have to be so hard, I literally put all my time and effort on my assignment for English but Mrs. Darling gave me a fifty percent! Can you believe a fifty percent” said Marlin.

I remember entering the large but seemingly lifeless cafeteria. The lunch room was full of other high schoolers. I felt as if the lunch room was empty and I was alone. Just the recognition of not one person there deals the lonely card. Nobody recognized me. Not even one person, I looked left, I looked right, I looked down at my lunch. I pretend to check my phone for the notification that wasn’t there. I was the new guy, again. Starting from scratch is tough, but when it happens twice in two years, it seems borderline impossible to fit in.