Creative Writing: A Personal Experiance, Memory Etc... Which Can Of Course Be Made Up So Long As Its Realistic

1110 words - 4 pages

A cool breeze blew in from the sea, just the right kind of breeze that comforts you but makes no noise except the occasional whistle though the grass. The crickets sang and in the distance, just visible, the calm foamy waters of the tropical sea were breaking and gently shrinking back from the shore. At the hotel however none of this could be heard above the crude disco music thudding and pounding through the air like a vicious wind tearing at the ears intent on causing pain.The building itself was situated in a steep valley that must have at one time held a river or stream now long gone. Dead trees were dotted here and there and a few outcrops of long coarse grass and twisted thorn bushes could be seen. The earth, a shade of orangey brown, was cracking and crumbling. The landscape looked uninviting and uninhabitable but there the hotel stood. A dusty dirt road lead to the entrance of the complex. It was three storeys high and shaped like the half-moon that was in the sky that night, like they always are in the cartoons. The building looked modern and unreal. In the centre of the crescent shape a pool had been built housing gallons of water greedily when around it the land was dying of thirst. The deckchairs were piled up at the side having earned a rest ready to be put back out again in the morning to make lobsters out of fools. Children were running round the pool edge having fun and paying no heed to the 'No Running' signs that were failing their job miserably.This was the scene that greeted my eyes as I stared longingly out of the dusty window that night. It was cramped and stuffy in the bar and my head was aching from the loud music and heavy smoke. I sat leaning against my mum, bored out of my mind, staring out of that grimy window incapable of anything else. My mum, Susan, had flourishing deep brown hair that went down to her shoulders and clear blue eyes slightly distorted by her smooth polished glasses that were perched on her nose. The frames of these were the same rosy colour as her cheeks. She was broadly built and was that protective kind of mother, scared of letting me go anywhere or do anything by myself. Sometimes my mum wouldn't even entrust me to another parent saying something like "I don't want him to be any trouble." She looked down at me quizzically and asked. "Are you all right lovey? Do you want to go outside for a while?" This was quite out of character for her; maybe she was getting bored of sitting here listening to music. With an effort I nodded my head and asked,"Can I go back to the room yet?" already knowing the answer."Just wait a while longer then we'll take you back," she replied in a calming voice. I settled for the answer even though I had received the same one four times. Maybe I would try again later. Lifting myself from the cracked plastic seat and hoping that my legs would support me I edged my way through the mob of people gathered to block my...

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