Kristina and Trey gathered all of their little belongings mostly caring about the lockbox containing about $3,600 of the finest mexican glass a.k.a meth. Rushing out of their little apartment as soon as possible after seeing a wanted picture in the newspaper of kristina stealing money illegally with a fake id. She thought it was odd that she had very very little remorse about getting up and leaving without saying goodbye to her baby that wouldn't even recognize her, her mom which she stole her identity and money from. It didn't phase her and she kept loading what little belongings she had into Trey's mustang. They rushed onto the snowy freeway still tweaked as usual, but exhausted from no sleep like usual and running from the police and the mexican drug lord that they owe and weren't planning on paying back.
Thump. Thump. Sudden steps echoed around the hall. I crouched down, trying to make the least amount of noise possible. The steps stopped.
"Alec Ramsay and Black Minx are out in front, five lengths ahead, AND THEY ARE UNDER THE WIRE!" the radio in the barn blared. I had just finished jumping my palomino "Above the Clouds" but I call him Cloud for short. Blackwater Ranch was owned by the Leigh's but they were at a horse show, so I was watching the ranch for them. I took my hunt seat saddle off Cloud's back then removed the saddle pad and set it out to dry.
As the 104th moves on from their real first test of battle, Stash is relieved he made it out of there alive. One thing for sure that this first battle taught him is always to be aware of what is around him. He told himself, just like in training, he can’t take his eye off anything from this point forward. He now knows this is real. There is no going back now.
Through thundering guns and cannon fire; you can hear the helpless cries of the abandoned, wounded soldiers or bold attackers, storming and laughing in the face of death. Some men prayed, while others pleaded. Some men held pictures or mementos; of longed sweethearts and family before carefully tucking them away inside of their jackets, for some of their loved ones, will never be seen again
Dear Mother, It’s has been indisputable here in the trenches, I’m in dire need of new socks. The doctors say they might have to amputate my foot if my trench foot gets any worse. Also if you could provide me with some next time you send me a package I would be beholden to you. In addition to the already gruesome situation, the rats have begun to eat the dead in no man’s land, and steal my bread when I’m not looking.
It was a cold autumn evening, colder than normal for Germany around this time. Franz looked at his pocket watch, it was about quarter after 11. The swastika was worn proudly on Franz’s left upper arm. He saw the animals within the barbed zoo, striped like zebras. Hanz was enjoying a piece of bread his wife prepared for him this morning, but his face had a look of discomfort.
The house stops spinning and trembling. A sudden thud and everything becomes still. Dorothy stands up, exits her room and approaches the front door. She goes for the handle, turns it, slightly spies through the door, to finally open it. A full world of bright and vivid colours displays in front of her.
And waited. And waited. When death had not come for her, she looked up. The hallway was perfectly normal, and the door was no longer shaking. For a brief moment, she even deliberated opening the door to see if anything had ever even happened.
Did you know that there are different ways that you can communicate things not just textually, but in visual terms? When the memoir is expressed in a textual way it does not hold an emotion the same way it does in a picture. According to rhetoricians Cheryl Glenn and Loretta Gray in the chapter Writing Arguments, people 's actions and attitudes do not depend on logical reasoning: “Human beings do not form their beliefs or act on the basis of facts or logic alone; if we did, we would all agree and would act accordingly. Scientific findings would stop us from indulging in unhealthy eating, drinking, or smoking. …
She looked up at the window to Lil’s room. She couldn’t be certain, but it looked like the curtain fluttered for just a second. She walked up the icy steps without managing to slip, and she fumbled for the key to the front door with numb fingers. Finally fitting the key into the lock, she opened the big oak door and let herself into the house.
The winter month of February brought a frosted wind to the orphanage. Outside, the breezes and gust rattled the window pane with it’s unforgiving swap of blows. Winston had no interest in the weather itself, he rather found himself interestested in nature’s cruelty. Through the snow blanketed London’s buildings like a comforting blanket, that was only facade to its undeniable connivance and conviction. He was certain of it.
The Linden children's summer was supposed to be a calm, relaxing, and normal stay at their uncle's small estate in Yorkshire, England. Of course, nothing ever seemed to be calm, relaxing, or normal for Olivia Lydia Linden. Ever. Of course, the summer had started out normally. Olivia’s mother had dropped her and her three younger siblings, Elizabeth, Jacob, and Charlie off at their Uncle small estate, where he began showing the children around the house.
“The girl was running. Running for her life, in the hope of finding a safe haven for her and her family. She never looks back, the only indication her father was still behind her was his ragged breathing above her head, forming puffs of air in this cold morning. She suddenly stumbles on a root, but her mother secures her fall with a small wisp of air. They lock hands, all three of them, and continue pushing themselves, desperately trying to find the others they lost on the way.
As I approach the house, I smell the old musty smell of the house. When I step on the front steps of the house, I hear a creak from underneath the floorboards. With every step, it seems like the creaking gets louder. I rap my hands around the dusty door handle and slowly pull open the unlocked door. The inside looks like what you’d expect.
