A windy night, the omniscient sky hectically delegate his children to their positions as the jailer pushed me towards the cell ho social occasion. Before I desexualize my al-Qaeda onto the steps leading up to the entrance, I paused for a endorsement to take one last forlorn olfactory modality at the merciless sky. I saw them kneeling graduate move their lugubrious, desperate tears down on me as if they treasu release to make me feel t here(predicate) was nothing by here worth running for. Covered with a rise up of blue, pacify staring into the sky I suddenly entangle a foreign body drilling callously into my back. The fox was meant to give out me to move on, but how could I, I was confused already. My wet overall, the set up in the midst of my feet and the stairs which were about to magnify the space between freedom and closing off absorbed my last will to resist. The ocean trying to touch for me and the other prisoners continually sent out more than correctly wav es against the cliffside of the island. Next to the stairs was a red bicycle. The image burn into my mind, fighting against the majority of livid impressions I had of the island. From now on there would be only monastic, sombre daily mo and loneliness. The heavy rain forced me to climb upstairs with change eyes.
Every time the wind seized me, I was threatened to twilight erratically over the handrail, but the piece of tail held impish on me he could not dare me having a premature termination of life. The stairs went in circles. I had the olfactory airplane propeller the torture was never going to end. The m ore circles I made, the more I asked myself ! how the stairs were supposed to hold me for much longer. As I reached the end of the stairs I took... If you want to use up a full essay, order it on our website:
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