Descriptive Essay - Original Writing - 1483 Words

Colors are flashing. Faint sounds fill the air. Everything’s a blur, like it’s being swept up by the wind. I try to find my footing and stand up, but I just fall back down again. I try to grasp onto my last memories, searching for answers. The only memory I find is my name. Shailene Fonder. When my vision returns back to normal, I see that I am sitting on the greenest patch of grass. When I look around, I see that it is my own front yard, yet I don’t remember my life before the blur. I see trees, my tan house and other houses, almost identical. The same colors and shape, one a duplicate of the next. This time when I stand up, I am stable. Dazed, but stable. Under me are the letters DHE made out of a darker color of grass than the grass†¦show more content†¦I am skinny and suddenly very hungry. I am wearing white ankle length pants. They come together with my black shoes that again have the DHE on them. A matching white coat is upon my torso along with a tight black shirt. I don t own these. I’d would have never worn them. The kitchen is grand. All china plates and bowls accompanied by sterling silverware. They almost seem fictitious. I search for food and a drink of any kind. I sit down with warmed up pizza that I had microwaved before, and a soft drink. The food immediately makes me feel better and the liquid fizzes down my throat. I let out a big sigh and my stomach is contented with the pizza. After I eat and have the astonishing soda, I go back upstairs into the room that I lived in. In the closet in the room, I grab some clothes. I change into athletic pants and a long sleeve shirt. They seem to fit me better. The stairs creak as I go down each step and into the den. It was almost an instinct to grab the weapons. The den walls were filled with them, all different kinds. A long silver knife and a bow and arrow get stuffed into a leather bag. I’d love to get some answers to my many questions so I start exploring. I’m only one step out the door when I hear the sound of a machine. The screeching sound of metal grinding against metal. I look over and see a piece of the wall flip and in it’s place is a picture. A picture of people similar looking to me, but all dead. Chopped off heads, many broken bones,