Descriptive Essay - Original Writing

"Mom! Dad! I 'm going out for a run!" I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a banana, finishing it off quickly as I got my earphones and phone.

Calliope sat straight up in a cold sweat her shoulder length hair cling to her head, she panted eyes wide in panic. Her hands clasped over her mouth stifling a scream. Calming down from her momentary hysteria and with a deep breath she examine her surrounding pristine blue above her, deep green grass a long with some wild flowers swayed around her. Standing up on wobbly legs she tried to remember where she was but, her mind drawing a blank on anything beyond her name. Walking down a small slope she saw clear body of water.

“Do you remember the red heel you always wanted to wear when you were younger,” my cousin asks. I giggle quietly as my forms a smile. I try to remember, but the memories do not come to me. I look up at her and just say yes, but why is it that I do not recall those shoes? I look down at my feet and close my eyes. I can see myself at the age of two running around in a pearly dress. I begin to scan myself in the dress, I look down, but still cannot see the shoes. I reopen my eyes and I just sigh. Have I forgotten where I came from, or is it just my mind playing tricks on me?

I moved to Waterford, Connecticut in my middle of second year of high school. When I went to Waterford first time, I didn’t like it. Actually I felt miserable, because I wasn’t happy that I moved to Waterford. As soon as when I got there I missed all of my friends. I don’t remember exact dates, but I know it was winter, cold. I think unhappiness made me feel colder. Waterford looks like the old country. There was few houses in a street. Our new house was one of it. The house surrounded by some trees, a huge yard, and a stream. I thought I am living in a forest. As soon as when we moved to Waterford, my father had to go back to Korea for his work. It was our first time that we live separately. I had about a month off from the school because one of the paper didn’t go through. I didn’t know anyone in there, didn’t know what I can do, or what’s where. Afraid to be outside, and being not happy about living in Waterford didn’t makes me to do something. I just stayed in the house. Staying in the house wasn’t fun either. My father is gone. My mom started to work in her new job. My brother was busy to play online computer game with his friends. I think living in a house for a month without seeing anyone, and stay home felt loneliness was the very beginning of the depression start.

Skye opened her eyes after what she had thought would just be a little cat nap. But nope, she found herself in a rather small room. "This must be the servants quarters," She mumbled to herself, with the following yawn. "They could have awoken me," She added with a sigh. "But then again, maybe they were afraid after that lecture I had given," She concluded, stepping out of bed. Her head then glancing over towards the door, where she had heard a gentle knock. "I apologize to disturb you; however, are you awake, Skye?" Sebastian asked gently. "I am, you may enter," She responded, grabbing a hairbrush that was conveniently placed on the small nightstand next to her. Sebastian entered the room, carrying a black & white maid uniform. "This will be your attire while working here at the estate. Also, a tailor will be by later this afternoon to take measurements for your off-duty tasks." He announced, gently lying down the uniform onto the bed.

Out of all the years of being Equestria’s ruler, never once did I ever think to be dethroned and beytrayed by my subjects, loyalists, and mistress. I couldn’t blame them, though, as I had failed to do what I had sworn to do: Protect my kingdom and bestow the essentials ponies needed; and besides the Flim and Falm Corp were able to do that better than I ever could. When I got insuborinated and removed from my castle, a sign that read “No Former Princess Celestia allowed here” was placed on the front.

There are times when people come across an object that holds a sentimental value and want to keep it close to their heart or in other instances, store it somewhere safe. Though my possession isn 't exactly an object you can hold or put away for safekeeping, but rather a place that allows family and friends to gather and dwell upon its most glorious days. A place everyone is perpetually invited and accepted for who they are. This home, I gratefully inherited from my grandparents, has become a shelter for those those in need, serves as a financial asset, and offers fond memories.

* I decided to rewrite this story, but it is mostly me fixing it up here and there. I went back to read it all over again and it really needs some work. I know I am still not the best writer but I will the best I can.

I grabbed his arm and pulled it to mine "And if you love me the way i love you you 'll stay here......" he shook his head and i felt him brush my hair from my face "Tk.........let me go..." it wasn 't an angry let me go it was I 'm sorry but you have let me go "No... If you want to go take me with you." im crazy i thought as i looked up at him. More tears fell from his face. He cried beautifully without the ugly puffed lips and blotchy skin but just tears. Glassy eyes with tears of fire and ice it seemed the way the light hit them. Tears that fell onto his skin, perfectly tan and strangely nice against the almost redness of his hair. I hated to think so but he was amazing in the dull 4am light. The moon hit his face just enough to make him look like artwork. Art that somehow is beautiful but also makes you think. He took my arm and rolled up my sleeve. " Look at you......" he traced the endless scars on my arm, not all self inflicted but all with a reason,all with a meaning. I wiped my eyes even though no tears were there. "Scars and cigarette burns......just another page in my story." he pulled off his hoodie and i saw his arms. Burn marks. "From the fire...most of them....." he breathed, painfully. "From the past." i traced a few of the scars on my arms with his finger. "From my father and other horrible people." i traced more scars and shivered as i did. I traced the long scar from rist to elbow and felt him quake. "From me." i traced the last scars remaining. "And thats

I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs. I got up and I looked in the mirror. My hair is very messy so I grabbed my hairbrush and other things. I brushed my hair and then grabbed my water bottle. I went out into the living room. Isabella, Emma, and Sophia sat down in their little chairs. Jaden, Jake, and Lucas played with their toy trains. I sat across from mommy who had her hair in a bun. "Destiny, we have something to tell you. We did not know when was the right time to tell you. I mean you were scared and hurt, we did not want to hurt your feelings even more." Mommy said.

"Dreamy" I thought. Standing on the corner is a young guy with a smile. I see him here almost every day, so I linger for a while. He tells me his name, and I tell him mine. ' 'I 'm Ester, what 's your name? I enquired. ' 'My names David ' '.,He replied. We end up talking for a while and I asked him if he had ever left this city. He tells me of all these stories of the places where he 's been, the distant lakes and mountains, and in valleys oh so green. I can see it in his eyes, he really has been there, travelled in those distant lands, seen sights beyond compare. I am so honoured just to get to know him, and hear him tell his tales. He makes me laugh and smile, stuff I have never been able to do. I want to go and see the world through

Okay, for you to understand this, I’m going to have to give you the names of all the people I’ll be talking about. Mum’s name is Ivana, Ivana Twydell. My sister is Meg, her boyfriend called himself Kole but I first knew him as Mr. Dunport - Declan Dunport . . .

[Note: Instead of [Y/N] or third point of view, it is now first point of view to receive the best experience in reading!]

80 's was a bulky time used for me. It was this dot once I got deep and arduous into Music. Already from a musical genus, my own delicate shock into this playing field ongoing in the 80 's once I was listening to my well-chosen of tune. It became more than now an hobby or a hobby. I factually became a 'collector ' of songs 'listened to '. Yep..So as to can sound new but come again? I mean is I truly made each attempt and sought each opportunity to eavesdrop to all the songs so as to I possibly will...And forever since.

Death. Traumatizing. Scarred for life. Charlie… It started off as a great day, the end of our extraordinary R.V. trip in Utah. We were about to go white water rafting, I’m just going to say what is about to happen, I never expected I would have to experience in my life. Nevertheless it happened to me when I was 10.