Here is my old creative writing work. This is about a girl who goes on an adventure with Michael Jackson and her two old friends
Here I am, walking ہوم from another boring دن of school. I quickly ran ہوم to get to uncle's house. When I got there, of course, my rich yet neglectful uncle would be sleeping on the white plush سوفی, لٹانا in the living room and all four of my cousins would be playing in the backyard.
My bedroom was the attic, which my uncle and cousins would have their nice and big bedrooms, while I got stuck with the tiny, somewhat dusty attic. When I got there, I placed my black messenger bag سے طرف کی the nightstand and lay down on the bed. I turn to my left and pick up a سونا picture frame with a picture of my late parents smiling, like nothing's happing. I sadly said,
"Mom, dad, why'd آپ go?"
I look up at the ceiling and looked at my dozen Michael Jackson posters, all from different eras, that I hung up to ignore the bland beige color that was painted.
"You understand me, don't you?" I start to smile at them and I start to feel a little sleepy and let out a big yawn.
"I could use a nap." I dreamily started to close her eyes and fall asleep.
"Hello, are آپ okay?" I start to hear a smooth yet calming voice. As I open my eyes, my vision was feeling a bit hazel, I see a handsome guy with black curly hair, light brown skin and in a red sweater, black pants, white socks, and black loafers. As my vision started to get cleared, I open my eyes and say,
"Michael Jackson?!" My brown eyes pop.
That was part 1. Please leave a تبصرہ telling me if آپ liked it
Here I am, walking ہوم from another boring دن of school. I quickly ran ہوم to get to uncle's house. When I got there, of course, my rich yet neglectful uncle would be sleeping on the white plush سوفی, لٹانا in the living room and all four of my cousins would be playing in the backyard.
My bedroom was the attic, which my uncle and cousins would have their nice and big bedrooms, while I got stuck with the tiny, somewhat dusty attic. When I got there, I placed my black messenger bag سے طرف کی the nightstand and lay down on the bed. I turn to my left and pick up a سونا picture frame with a picture of my late parents smiling, like nothing's happing. I sadly said,
"Mom, dad, why'd آپ go?"
I look up at the ceiling and looked at my dozen Michael Jackson posters, all from different eras, that I hung up to ignore the bland beige color that was painted.
"You understand me, don't you?" I start to smile at them and I start to feel a little sleepy and let out a big yawn.
"I could use a nap." I dreamily started to close her eyes and fall asleep.
"Hello, are آپ okay?" I start to hear a smooth yet calming voice. As I open my eyes, my vision was feeling a bit hazel, I see a handsome guy with black curly hair, light brown skin and in a red sweater, black pants, white socks, and black loafers. As my vision started to get cleared, I open my eyes and say,
"Michael Jackson?!" My brown eyes pop.
That was part 1. Please leave a تبصرہ telling me if آپ liked it
Blazing 'Cross The Evening Sky
Gone Too Soon
Like A Rainbow
Fading In The Twinkling Of An Eye
Gone Too Soon
Shiny And Sparkly
And Splendidly Bright
Here One Day
Gone One Night
Like The Loss Of Sunlight
On A Cloudy Afternoon
Gone Too Soon
Like A Castle
Built Upon A Sandy Beach
Gone Too Soon
Like A Perfect Flower
That Is Just Beyond Your Reach
Gone Too Soon
Born To Amuse, To Inspire, To Delight
Here One Day
Gone One Night
Like A Sunset
Dying With The Rising Of The Moon
Gone Too Soon
Gone Too Soon
link
Paul Anka,Co-writer of ((This is it)).
Smooth Criminal's fashion
Thriller's famous jacket
