Atwood Narrative
As the leaves bristle and the thin sheets of wind intrude through the slender opening of the window of the bus, sat a grey backpack with a variety of stickers scattered onto the fabric in diverse figures and colors, each giving the dull backpack a sense of flare. Besides the backpack displayed a boy sitting on a cold, leather seat, crossing his arms, a picture of his grandfather-who served in Camp Grant, now called Atwood- clenched tightly against his chest.
“Now reaching Atwood, please take caution of your possessives. Now reaching Atwood, please take..”
The voice of the bus driver echoed through the vehicle, each word causing to become just a blur to Warren. As he swiftly trolled down the steps along with the other …show more content…
Don’t worry, you have a guide with you as always.” Ms. Oulm explained, sounding like she got paid to explain the activity.
The leaves bristled as we trotted outside while the moon shimmered on the trails, leaving a source of light for the group to follow. The students glued together trailing behind the guide, howling here and there waiting for the reply. Most of them would glance up at the stars as they make their obnoxious rackets, pretending that they’re actually an animal. Warren thought to himself; We must be next to the cemetery, there’s that same road we’d always encounter. He peered at the distracted students at that time when he entered the slim pathway with branches coated with leaves covering the path. The pathway lead to a steep hill as he tumbled down, a mixture of dirt and grass interlacing through his filthy brown hair. Striking a stone fortress with his left sides, injuring his rib as a slab of stone descended by his right. trapping him. “No, no, no, please!” He cried, extending his arm to the only exposed space which only to be blocked by a huge rock. “No.. Please, somebody
As the leaves bristle and the thin sheets of wind intrude through the slender opening of the window of the bus, sat a grey backpack with a variety of stickers scattered onto the fabric in diverse figures and colors, each giving the dull backpack a sense of flare. Besides the backpack displayed a boy sitting on a cold, leather seat, crossing his arms, a picture of his grandfather-who served in Camp Grant, now called Atwood- clenched tightly against his chest.
“Now reaching Atwood, please take caution of your possessives. Now reaching Atwood, please take..”
The voice of the bus driver echoed through the vehicle, each word causing to become just a blur to Warren. As he swiftly trolled down the steps along with the other …show more content…
Don’t worry, you have a guide with you as always.” Ms. Oulm explained, sounding like she got paid to explain the activity.
The leaves bristled as we trotted outside while the moon shimmered on the trails, leaving a source of light for the group to follow. The students glued together trailing behind the guide, howling here and there waiting for the reply. Most of them would glance up at the stars as they make their obnoxious rackets, pretending that they’re actually an animal. Warren thought to himself; We must be next to the cemetery, there’s that same road we’d always encounter. He peered at the distracted students at that time when he entered the slim pathway with branches coated with leaves covering the path. The pathway lead to a steep hill as he tumbled down, a mixture of dirt and grass interlacing through his filthy brown hair. Striking a stone fortress with his left sides, injuring his rib as a slab of stone descended by his right. trapping him. “No, no, no, please!” He cried, extending his arm to the only exposed space which only to be blocked by a huge rock. “No.. Please, somebody