Personal Narrative

About a week after Howleen’s suicide attempt, Clawd and Clawdeen organized a little investigation to track down TVC. Clawd had intended the investigation to be much like the one for Harmony’s murder, but since the circumstances were different this was either going to be really easy or really difficult.

“Beep, beep, beep, beep,” A green hand, about the size of a basketball slithered out of the bed and some covers and picked up the alarm clock and slammed it onto the ground. It shattered into a million pieces and the green hand slithered back into it’s resting place. “Uhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” The creature shrieked as it threw up it’s coffee stained covers. And sluggishly got out of bed. It scratched its bolted head, then its butt and headed to the bathroom which was about two steps from his bed. The thing lived in a small apartment. With brick walls on the right side of the apartment, and a pure crispy white on the other side. It was small and the green monster was big. It did not look like a comfortable fit but apparently this thing had been living there for quite a long time. His name is Franky, you might know him from movie directed by Boris Karloff. It is called “Bride of Frankenstein.”

“Yes, of course,” she replied. She rushed inside her home and came back holding a phone. She dialed 911 and she started talking I couldn’t hear what she was saying.

The day I found out that Archer Morales killed himself, I didn’t know what to think.

In almost every teenage romantic comedy, the dorky, hopeless heroine-in-the-rough gets a make-over. Afterward, she struts down the halls of her high school or makes a big entrance at the school dance. Everyone’s jaws would drop as they wondered who this hot piece of fresh meat was, because surely they must be new. Until someone realized it wasn’t a new student, but the mousy girl they’d spent their entire educational careers overlooking and making fun of.

Whispers were heard throughout the crowd, students conversing with each other. Mrs. Underwood still continues to talk through the students though. People were eyeing each other, grinning. They already knew what was going to happen. “Okay, pick a partner and come see me.” The students rushing in swarming Mrs. Underwood. When the students got their group, they sprinted almost as fast a pack of lions swarming the carcass of a dead animal.

As Denise walked through the hallway of Highfield High School deep in thought and with a frown on her pretty face, she almost collided with other students. She stopped in front of her locker and stared at it with dark unseeing eyes. Her best friend Liz walks up to her own locker and greets Denise, but Denise doesn’t hear her. Instead she continues to stare at the door of her locker. “Denise? You in there?”, Liz suddenly slams the door of her locker shut! Denise comes alive with a gasp and a little jump and finally sees Liz. “Well, that was rude,” Denise frowns. Liz pouted teasingly, but Denise is still unhappy with her rude awakening and refuses to play along. “Hi,” she deadpans. “Welcome back to earth. What were you thinking?” “I’m single,”

I was shy, distant, seemingly unable to establish friendship. I walked into the first rehearsal tasted my lack of words, a bitter, sweaty taste. Although I now know this was all in my head, I could have sworn the judgment in the room was so thick my nose somehow caught a whiff the nauseating stench. As you may have guessed things got better, thanks to being required to spend so much time will the same group of people I managed to break through my insecurities. I put aside differences and put on my big girl pants to develop as a member of society. I made a few friends. That may not sound like an sentiment worth rejoicing over to you, but to the lanky, awkward, ten-year-old Sydney Nelson it meant the world. The friends I made in my safe haven are now some of the best friends I have. LCP “dramatically” broke my out of my shell.

William watched Tabitha unbutton her blouse. She pulled the blouse over her shoulders to reveal a lacy, white bra. She leaned over, unzipped her gym bag, and retrieved a scrunchie. She stood, slipped the scunchie over her wrist, reached behind her back and snapped open the clasp on her bra.

A lot of high schoolers have their best memories at parties, and high school sports events. For me, besides being with family, my best memories are at the Colorado Mills theater. Yes, it is a movie theater. Is this a special, magical theater? No, not at all, it’s just a

There was a small pile of gardening tools lying nearby, and there was Grandma waiting with a big straw hat upon her head.

To me, the criteria of an outstanding novel is one that I am left thinking about well after finishing the last page. This is why for my ISU I have chosen to explore Lionel Shriver’s ‘We Need to Talk about Kevin’. The novel has the ability to be revolting yet

Mike Newell, director of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, had a difficult decision when overtaking the production of the fourth Harry Potter installment. The first movies had been completely faithful to the novels; however, the third had a new director who decided to bring his own creative vision

Dad drove me to school so I could take my surrealistic painting to Art class. I figured I might as well work on it there, considering I now had to have a chaperone to work in my own art studio.

It was 12:00 at night and Lauren was finishing up her Algebra homework when she heard footsteps in her bedroom. She just assumed she was hearing things because she was so tired. She finished up her homework and went to bed. She opened the window before she got into bed. She woke up the next morning and just felt like something was wrong. She went into the kitchen and turned on the news, like she does every morning. She poured herself some cereal and sat at the island watching the news. Suddenly, the regular morning forecast was interrupted by breaking news. There was a serial killer in San Bernardino, where she lived.