Short Story

Misty Dawn Story!

Misty Dawn Story!

My life has been a very wild ride and I am willing to let you in!  I sometimes feel that all people see is my wheelchair and not me.  So I am going to be sharing things with you about me, family, friends, school, some of my favorite pomes that were done by a friend, and much more.

First I would like to share something’s about me.  I am 22 years old. I was born with Cerebral Palsy (CP) and I have significant lower extremity weakness and atrophy with plasticity requiring bilateral ankle AFOs and a walker for ambulation.  I also use a wheelchair for mobility.   I am originally from Maple Lake, Minnesota, where I went to Maple Lake High School and I graduated in 2002 from Maple Lake High School and lived with my family on our family farm, but I now reside in St. Cloud, Minnesota in my own apartment which is in a building that is completely accessible.  I have lived in St. Cloud for 2 ½ years.  I have been going to St. Cloud Technical College (SCTC) majoring in Child Care and Adult Care and Education.  I plan to graduate in May of 2005.  A lot of people have told me that I would not be able to make it in school but, look at me now.  when I am done with school I plan to work at Camp Courage in Maple Lake for the summer.  Then I plan to come back to St. Cloud to look for a job.  I hope to find a job working with kids or adults with or without disabilities. I may also take some time off before I start working.

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Description, Narration, and Illustration Essay

Description, Narration, and Illustration Essay

Shriners Hospitals for Children



The first thing I would like to tell you about is what the hospital looks and feels like and the people when you walk into the doors.  From the outside the hospital looks big and very welcoming.  When you walk into the hospital there are two sets of doors.  One of the first things you will see is a big playing area for the kids to play in while waiting to go see the doctor.  The play area has a lot of colors on the walls like red, yellow, green and more.  Also a lot of toys and books for the kids to play with.  Than the next thing you will see is the check in desk.  The check in desk is so they can let the doctor know you are there.  

There is also a wall painted with all the animals you would see in a forest.  This was painted by a father whose child was helped at Shriners.  One more thing you will see is all of the people.  When you go to Shriners hospital you will meet really nice doctors, nurses, and a lot of other people that come from other states and countries.  I learn a lot about them and maybe I have made a new friend.

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descriptive essay

For this descriptive essay, I chose something that has happened to me several times and so because of this it is something that I know quite well.  I chose to describe a hospital stay.

Hospitals always seem to have their own unique smell.  It seems to me that things in hospitals always seem to have a “new” smell to them, similar to what you might get if you walked into a store to make a purchase.  Another smell that I have noticed is the smell of things being clean meaning you can smell the disinfectants and cleaners that are used.

Another sense that plays a role when one is staying in a hospital is sight.  You see people of all different sorts and many different types of hospital equipment.  You also have to pay attention and watch when they are caring for you because that way you know what is going on and this will make your treatment better.  Another thing that I personally pay attention to is who is coming in and out of my room and if I have seen them before.

The sense of touch also plays a big role.  This is because doctors and nurses need to check things and will ask questions to clarify how things feel.  This will help them to better pinpoint what is going wrong or right and makes their job a little easier.  If something doesn’t feel right it is easier to tell someone about it so they can fix it.  Many people will also experience a soft, comfortable feeling from the blankets and sheets as they often times will spend a fair amount of time in bed depending on what they are being treated for.

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Being a Camper at Camp Courage!

Being a Camper at Camp Courage!

I was a camper for many summers at Camp Courage.  Camp Courage is a camp for kids and adults with disabilities.  Camp Courage is a terrific place for children and adults with disabilities to go in the summer time.  Just because some people have challenges doesn’t mean they can’t try to be “normal” like others.  The cabin I stayed in looked like a castle.

At camp Courage there are many activities available for campers to do.  These include horseback riding, swimming, tubing, crafts, nature activities and speedboat rides.  My favorite activity as a camper was tubing.  I like this because it is a lot of fun, and it was my first time when I was a camper.

We also got to experience campouts.  Everyone in the cabin goes on the campout.  If the camp session is more than two weeks there is more than one campout.  At the campout, first we put up the tents and decide who goes in which tent.  We made our own food on the campfire.  When we had to go to the bathroom we had to go in the woods.  We used leaves for toilet paper.  We had to dig holes to use as toilets.

At the campout we had a campfire.  We sang songs, played games, and made s’mores.  My favorite part of the campout was the s’mores.  The campout at Camp Courage was my first time sleeping in a tent.  I got to sleep in a tent with my new friends I made at camp.  We stayed up talking all night long and played with our flashlights.

Going to Camp Courage I met many different kinds of people who became good friends.  Some of them were even from other countries.  I enjoyed learning about the different cultures they came from.  If I asked them, they would teach me some words from their languages.

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A Wulfen short story.

The winter snow filled the trees branches and littered the ground with new white powdered ice. The trees standing firm and resolute in the darkness bore whiteness to the slow procession of wolves. The walked and snaked there way through the trees silently, as silent as snow would allow. They came from all ends of the lands to the grove of the ancients.  



The precession made its way into the deep valley. Wolves from the edges of the lands came and gathered at this place every seventh year. This year’s congregation was filled with new fresh wolves. They could be spotted by there jerking sways from side to side. As if trying to get those around them to slip some movement. In the center of the little valley laid a bolder of silvery shine.



Atop the bolder sat four old wolves. Each of the older wolves had stark white fur and the golden eyes of age. They sat unmoving watching as the rest of the wolves filed in. once the last wolf entered the clearing all the wolves stopped moving and even the younger ones stopped fidgeting. All wolfish eyes were placed into the center. The old wolves raised there heads as one and howled into the night. The brought there heads back down and slowly raised them again. As they raised there heads all the wolves brought there hundred thousand voices to bear into the night.



The eerie sound filled the night air for several minutes before dying out into the winter silence. Of all the wolves gathered the fifth oldest walked around the silvery stone and nipped at each old ones fore paws. The fifth was gray and silver with touches of black in her fur. She final stopped before the last wolf and repeated the process again, and then stopped and lay before the last one.



It was a seen to behold even for the average human would never be able to see it. No human would have been able to see the four wolf gods. Each one was identical to the other but each one had there own minds.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

An Intro to a story I was working on.

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Over The Bridge

Folder: 
Short Stories

When one dies they do not expect what awaits them, they only hope that it is something good. Many know that what awaits them will be horrible if in fact there is anything at all. What awaited me was a chance, a chance to save myself.  I’m not really sure what it was, just that I was able to tell of my final day.  

        I fell to the ground soaking wet in what seemed to be a black abyss with nothing but a desk in front of me.  As I rose from the ground and approached the desk I saw a pen, a stack of paper and a note.  I slowly sat down and read from the page;

        You are aware of course that you are dead and that which caused your death.  Like many you now sit awaiting judgment, and like many an opportunity lays on the desk before you.  If you choose to, you may write an account of your final day as a form of statement.  Why you have been given this opportunity and why you should take it are things that can not be mentioned.  Regardless of what you decide, this note will be the only interaction you have with anything until your judgment. As you will be waiting for some time there is a dry robe in the bottom drawer for your use.

        The note was not signed and finished with a number as though I was in some sort of line.  Confused I looked in the bottom drawer and drew out the robe. Placing the robe on the chair, I took of my wet clothing and replaced them with it.  I stood looking around into an expanse of nothing for a few moments and then took a seat at the desk.  Seeing as how there was little else for me to do I picked up the pen and began to write.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I Wrote This For English 104

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Hair

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Stories

“No, I didn't do it,” spews the madman as he grips his hair.  The collar of his loose black T-shirt barely covers the scar running from his neck to his navel or the scratches on his left bicep.



Halogen lights flicker as water drips from the ceiling in the long dark hallway.  A woman screams.  Victor walks and smiles down to the bound woman with mud still dripping off her face from being dragged down the hallway.



Still grabbing his hair, he walks down the hall.  The smell of burnt gunpowder lingers in the air.  “How could I do it?  Why did nothing stop me?” he mutters more.



“Why are you doing this to me?” asks the lady.

“Simply, because I can,” replies Victor still smiling, “It won't hurt, don't worry.”

“Why me?”

“Call it wrong place wrong time, careful planning, whatever you want to call it.”

“Do you know who I am?  Do you know anything about me?”

“Well Annie I know you do anything for a buck, even letting criminals go free.  I don't care.”



“I'm not going to do this.  I don't want it,” rambles the crazed maniac with a few more steps down the hall.  Hair falling out of place, sweat dripping from every pore.  He pulls his hair back, opens a door.  Inside the room is a crying lone woman.  Victor looks down at her and smiles.  A quick flicker.  Victor pulls out a revolver from the back of his pants.  With another smile he pulls the trigger.  Annie now lies on the floor bleeding from the hole between her eyes.


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Time Draws Close (Memoires of a Dead Man)

Folder: 
Stories

For eight years now I walked this earth by means not my own.  With my last few days as human as possible I write for you how this came to be:



I had a normal life, ha normal that's old now, a mother, a father, a sister, and a brother.  My childhood was plain.  Youth now that's where it got interesting, I was a bit of a daredevil with anything I could get my hands on, whether or not I could handle it.  That's probably where my trouble started.

After I finished high school my life style didn't change, I just got more bold.  The stunt shows had nothing on me.

One day I awoke and knew I had to turn my life around.  A simple task, find a job, get a car, clean my apartment.  

Simplicity was the key word, unfortunately for the walk to the temp agency ended all that for me.  A black sedan sped down the road.  I remember seeing it, then nothing, until waking in an office full of bright light.  Sitting at the desk was a man who couldn't have been much older than me but has this sense of him that said he was in charge.  He stood slowly and had on a black suit and tie, in his right hand he held a silver pocket watch.

While tapping the watches glass face he smirked and spoke, “You're early.  You spend your whole life being late, but you are early to see me.”

“Sir, I'm sorry, would you like me to come back later?”

“No, no that is impossible.  Victor do you know where you are?”

“At my job interview, right?”

“Sadly, no, I am sorry to say but you will not be making that on time.  On the bright side you wouldn't have gotten it anyway.

“You knocked on my door many times, but now you just let yourself in.”

His smugness left me too shocked to figure out how he knew my name.  I could only mutter lightly, “Who are you, where am I?”

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The End Pt. 6

A scuffle rouses me

After sleeping so long my night vision is back to square one

I can hear someone near me

Their feet scraping the floor



I clear my throat

"Hello?"

The footsteps immediately halt

"Who's there?"



There's a sound of something snapping

and a metal clang



And then the footsteps fade into the distance

I gather myself and stand



After a few moments I can begin to see my surroundings

I fell asleep at the edge of that rift

I could have rolled into it and never made it to my objective



Across the hole I can see something

A glint or a reflection of something



The light



And whoever was shuffling around in the dark

Unhooked that rope and let it down



I reach for the rope

and take hold

I tug to make sure it's secure



Hold my breath



Close my eyes

And push off



My feet leave the cold earth behind me

And I pass over nothingness

To reach the other side

I plant my feet

And let go of the tether



Never to be stopped by this gap again


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