Goosebumps

People write for all sorts of reasons. They write to show their emotions in diaries; or regularly blog on a page they 've created saying after every one, from anonymous because they are scared to give out their own identities because of a troubling past. Also a common way of writing is poetry. My senior year English teacher Ms. Sutton told me something that actually made sense to me. Ms. Sutton said, “Poetry is the easiest way to your soul, and poetry can tell your life story just with a couple…

All I saw were the toys, bright colors, and smiles. It was a wonderful place filled with everything I ever wanted, Barbie dolls, toy trucks, Legos and so on. As I continued to walk through, I was so excited that I was playing over in my head what toys I would play with first. The Barbie dolls first, then the playhouse, and build a house with Legos. And there were so many other kids to play along with too. With the amount of toys and having news friends all around me, I felt like I was in a…

While looking through the selections of books that I had for summer reading, I wanted to ensure that the novel I chose was one that I could easily connect to. After learning that The Joy Luck Club was one of my grandmother’s favorite books, I immediately knew that I had to read it. Before even reading the first page of the novel, I could already tell that I would be able to pull an abundance of relations and connections from The Joy Luck Club because it is solemnly centered on Chinese-American…

Fuck. He was gone again, and it was getting to be too much, these separations. It had always been like this for them, and being fiercely independent she had always been able to shrug it off and keep busy until his return. However, lately she 'd been growing increasingly needy for him. Frowning, she hugged her arms around herself as she snuggled into their bed and thought about how their relationship had progressed. They had started off as friends, both enjoying joking and teasing each other.…

THIRTEEN I’ve been getting awful flashbacks all the time ever since father died. It was like I was reminded of him and every one of his words and advice I took for granted. It was a melancholic distraction from the real world and I was slowly drowning in thoughts I couldn’t comprehend. Almost interrupting my deep thinking, Theodor whispered quietly to the crew of anxious people. “Let’s go. She’s nearby.” He quickly stood up, checked his watched, and hurried out the back door. They…

The world turned dark and my heavy eyes fell shut as my body drifted into a deep trance. From a distance, I saw myself climbing up a ladder which led to the redwood loft bed in my house in the hills. I watched as the younger me almost hit my head on the low hanging wooden ceiling beams and the next thing I knew I was crawling straight over pillows while dragging my box of zebra puzzle pieces. Making my way to the tiny window that looked out towards an empty field, a sea of trees began to arise.…

“You said that your father died before you learned to read. I am guessing that you were still a child when he died. Did you go to live with relatives after he died?” “Papa died in the spring of 1944, and I reckon if he hadn’t had me to take care of, he would’ve had to go fight in the war… No, after my papa died, I went to live in the poorhouse or orphanage as they liked to call it. I never knew if Mama and Papa had any kinfolk around here- neither one of ‘em ever talked about kinfolks, and no…

to the professor’s monotone voice. It was when the screen displayed the title “Suicide Cases” I started to pay attention. He explained the history of the famous case of Sylvia Plath, which was ruled suicide. During his explanation, I kept getting goosebumps. I left hastily after the professor finished that topic. I went to my dorm room and found Daniel was at his desk skyping his father. He tried to introduce me to him, but I rushed to get underneath the cover of my blanket. I tried to forget…

vibration of thunder felt like an earthquake under my feet. I shivered watching the electrical, rain storm take over like a fiery beast this early, fall afternoon, and pulled my last cigarette from a worn Marlboro pack that had seen better days. Goosebumps became a reality as I heard the wind scream through the old paint-peeled windows. Click. Click. Click. The old, worn Zippo lighter my grandfather, whom died two years ago, had given it…

Mi Infancia My Childhood I loved my childhood. Sure, to you it may seem like nothing, but I absolutely loved my childhood. I never had much, however I was content with what I had, scratch that; I loved what I had. I had freedom. I had a life where I could do what I wanted, when I wanted. I was able to roam free. Even if I had no toys to play with but the toys I could make or find at home. Even if we had no running water. Even if I wouldn’t have my first full can of coke until I was older…