CHAPTER TEN Frantic Flight to Yellow Rock Jacob charged across the crest, his feet beating divots into the dirt. “Come on!” We bolted down the far side of the rock face toward the creek, the three of us slipping on crumbling stones until we hit level ground and could climb onto our horses. I was sure Seth’s horse, Promise, was going to barrel straight up the ridge, but she veered sharply to the right and galloped off in the opposite direction.
The rain pattered against the cobblestone path beneath Nur’s feet relentlessly. Wincing, Nur ducked her head, her thick hair falling limply around her face as her legs pumped faster, bursting into a sprint. Helplessly, Nur tried to shield the basket of laundry with her body, bending over slightly. She somehow doubted the de Graafs would appreciate their clothes being handed to them soaking wet. Water seeped through Nur’s thin cotton kebaya, the cold drops rolling down her skin.
I pedaled slowly and started moving. My ears turned red as the wind blew across my face. The trees and bushes zoomed out of my sight as I passed them. My worried face turned into a grin as I kept on going in circles. Then I realized I did not know how to stop.
“We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air.” This is a WW2 quote talking about the patriotism that was happening during WW2. When many people think about WW2, they think about all the horrific things that happened. Many people forget the good that people did, and what happened after the war ended. Many people that fought in WW2 share memories and stories of the good that they did for their country, all the opportunities that they got from the war, and the people that they encountered.
The further out I trek into the pasture the taller the weeds and grasses grow, eventually to the point that both my legs from mid-shin up AND my arms to my elbows are receiving stinging cuts and bites. I should lift my arms over my head, but I would regret piercing into the delicate skin on the underside of my upper arms, and this predicament is already proving to be fairly exasperating. For example; the hundreds of miniscule bug bites I am dotted with resemble the
When we awoke, we ate breakfast and immediately started running to get ready. We had gotten ready for this faster than we had gotten ready for anything in our entire lives. We ran out of our room and down to the beach with I-love-it-here smiles. As soon as my feet hit the sand, my exhilaration hit a whole new level.
I can see the hot, watery sweat dripping down Lexi’s face. Sprinting down and up the field causes Lexi’s face to turn bright red like a tomato. Lexi and I push through the heat and persevere to try and win the final game, but with three minutes left we might not have enough time. As the other team starts with the ball Lexi and I give each other a look and at the top of her lungs Lexi screams ‘GOOO” and sprints down the field rushing to the ball.
It was our turn to play defense so I sprinted through the crunchy grass, frosty because of how cold it was. I was in right field and I waited for a ball to get hit to me. On the third batter he hit a high popup right in my direction I got under it with ease and made the catch to end the inning. Now It was my turn to hit there was one man on and nobody out. My heart was pounding as loud as a thousand drums.
I believe that pursuing happiness as a goal has detrimental effects. As a society, we tend to believe that we need to be full of joy at all times, but that isn't realistic - life happens. By attempting to be cheery all the time, you will never be genuinely content. You will always be searching for more and won't be satisfied with what you have, creating a permanent cycle of gloom rather than bliss.
George Brown was an American soldier who was commonly referred to as the “doughboy” in World War I. He enlisted almost immediately and served with the 117th Engineering Regiment. From the beginning of his time, to the end, George Brown wrote a great deal of letters to the love of his life, Martha. These letters represent a fascinating first person view of the day-to-day life of an American Soldier during World War I.
It was a dark and stormy night. Why we have to do this tonight, that is beyond me. Ask our squad deputy commander Joongsa Kim, equivalent to a Warrant Officer of my homeland, about the reason. I had my reason: It was stormy tonight, and to me, that was enough to feel like stepping out of the mission. As a member of the Joint Task Force 2, I was trained to withstand the dark, and so would have my American comrade Sergeant Hunter, who is from the well-known Delta Force, and the South Korean soldiers Warrant Officer Kim and Sangbyeong Jung, equivalent to a Corporal of the Canadian Armed Forces, who are from the 707th Special Operations Battalion.
Almost Making It Happen I expected to get a few bruises, but not a getting a concussion. Before the soccer game, my idea of a concussion was getting bumped in the head, receive headaches, and it would heal up in a week and then you would go back to the way you were. I was wrong. At times, concussions can be deadly, and if you have them more than once, it will decrease your chance of keeping your brain healthy and surviving. Concussions can also give you migraines and make you dizzy.
Clarisse McCellan is viewed as odd by the other members of society in the Fahrenheit 451. Odd was an understatement, she is a threat to authority, a burden on the eyes of the community. In simple terms, this is because her golden hair gleams in the sunlight instead of her eyes reflecting the artificial light of the TV. She choses not to constantly fill her brain with media and can appreciate the entertainment her own thoughts can provide. She takes walks, looks at the sky and appreciates ‘doing nothing.’
Reporters, flocking around me, all my eyes could see were the staggering number of camera flashes and the reporters repeatedly asking the same question, “Hicham, how did you manage to smash the last world record by nearly 20 seconds?” Still being out of breath from the race my lungs could not manage to gather the air needed to answer the question that required a long explanation. Soon after, one of my coaches grabbed me what seemed like my 10th water, my brain descended from the notorious runner's high after taking a long sip of water. Knowing the reporter’s apprehension, I started explaining to the various reporters what exactly happened during the historic race I ran a mere 10 minutes ago. As I spoke all of the reporters from the many news stations leaned their microphones in so they could all hear what exactly happened during the historic 1-mile race starting the race in the middle of the pack was my original plan which my body carried out throughout the beginning of the race.