Story Structure Is 90 Percent Of The Work - Jill Chamberlain

I woke up. The director came in and yelled at me to get out of bed. I sighed. I knew, this was, another ngày in showbiz. Showbiz was, at first, a very interesting and exciting activity to take on. It was much thêm serious than I thought it would be, and a lot less fun. I was Syria, the main protagonist in the story. My real name is Stace, for those of bạn who don't know. I could be a trouble-maker in the play, but I couldn't be rambunctious and cause trouble for the crew.
People confused me most of the time. Especially adults. I could be trouble-making in the play, but I couldn't be rambunctious...

I stood at his grave. The people had finally cleared out. Now it was only me and him. I bit my lip, there would be no thêm tears. He didn’t want that. I sat down, and went into the depths of my mind.

I still remember the last Kiss we shared. We had been in the forest on the far side of town. He pinned me against a tree, and crashed his lips to mine. Our lips moved so perfectly together. My tongue flicked out and ran along his bottom lip. His mouth dropped open and I eagerly entered.

He had been the dominate one in the relationship, no câu hỏi about it. But sometimes, he liked to see me take...

Some people weren't meant to be born. Some families are not to be made That's why there are hunters. Hunters take care of this problem

Alex Grazer walked down the dark wet hallway with his arms full of wood for his family. His hair against his neck was standing up because of fear and the freezing temperature. Little did he know what was behind him would hurt his life forever.
Alex stopped walking and looked around on all sides of the hallway. He had his knockout spray bởi his flashlight at trang chủ so if anybody attacked he would be doomed. In a single nhanh, swift motion of somethings arm Alex hit the...

"Olga Wilson." called my 8th grade history teacher, Mr. Franklin.
I looked up at him dazed. I know this may sound weird, but I've always admired how he looked like. Sô cô la tanned skin with short curly black hair and honey-brown eyes. He always dresses up like those people in old 1990s educational videos. But either way, I always thought he was beautiful. If he was the same age as me, I'd ngày him. But he's on his 30s and he's married and has 2 teenage sons. So he's out of my list.
"Ms. Wilson." he called me once thêm with his soothing voice. "Daydreaming again?"
"I guess." I sighed.
Everyone...

I am from a dad who showed me tình yêu –till I turned four
--A navy man with no thêm room for me
To burned bridges with family, Những người bạn and loved ones

From the chilly blue ocean, days spent at the golden beach,
And time spent hiding from the world

From days spent with despair and wishes for death
To days with unending laughter and forced smiles

The hopes of tomorrow being destroyed
And memories that become tarnished

From helping raise four younger siblings
And growing up too fast
To begging my friend not to die

From my tears, joy, and fears
To finding the Father who always loved me

From being too terrified...

As I gasp for breath while I drown the pain in morphine
While my tim, trái tim beats in tune with the rolling static hills on the metal screen
I lay on my deathbed reflecting on my life
I can say I had a good one although it was filled to the brim with tidal waves of hurt
I laughed in delight while running through the golden fields embracing the open skies and wearing a halo of warm sunshine
I climbed trees and swam in the salty ngọc lục bảo sea
But Moma was always working hard at the quán ăn filling out orders for sugary milkshakes and greasy fries
And brother Tim was always out too late fixing old radios who sang...