<u>Descriptive. </u>
I believe home is where you find peace, tranquility, joy, and most importantly were you feel safe. My home is a small place, located down a small road. Though the street seems quite dull, with all the simple red-brick houses lining the edges, it has to be the place I love most.
My home is a small, simple house. It looks like all the other houses around the area, with its thatched roof and red-brick walls. It has a small front yard, where I do my gardening, and keep a table and chairs, in case guests visit.
My neighbors are kind people, who often keep to themselves. I like how they have respect for everyone in our lane, even with the more misunderstood people.
If someone were to stand outside my house, they would see the same as every other house down our street, but they would smell the different scents of flowers, taste the scent of freshly baked biscuits and immediately feel welcome.
you can add on extra information, and extend the descriptions.
Answer:
it is very simple but very important
1 they do not make spelling mistakes...
2 they have a strong grammar concept...
3 they stay away from plagiarism
4 they try to summarize whole topic to make it easy to understand
5 they try to write different topics in comparison...
Explanation:
O>O
Dhick
whole in your mouth when i bust cause i dont care what i do cause i do what i want
Answer:
Hi. I'm Amanda Princeton. This is the story about the day I was framed for the murder of Mr. Parker.
It happened on the snowiest night in January. I was all alone in my house, sipping hot cocoa as I watch the snowfall just outside my window. I heard a weird noise from outside and noticed the mean old man, Mr. Parker, sinking in the snow. I chuckled to myself, the snow was only six inches deep. He must have tripped or something. I continue watching him struggle to get up from the ground, but then a hand as black as night grabbed him and pulled him completely under the snow. I jumped out of my seat, startled at what I had just witnessed. Did Mr. Parker just... die? I rushed to my room and threw on my snow boots and coat. I quickly made my way to the front door, but I froze as I put my hand on the deadbolt. <em>What if it gets me?</em> I thought to myself. I finally talked myself up just enough to unlock the deadbolt. Next was the lock on the doorknob. I began to shake. If I unlock this door, whatever that's out there could possibly overpower me and get in. I shook my head. <em>I'm not scared of anything!</em> I reassured myself. I unlocked the door and turned the knob. As soon as I did, a strong wind pushed it open. The door swung open and knock me on the ground. It nearly knocked me unconscious! Everything seemed to be fuzzy as I began to get up. As soon as I was on my feet, another gust of wind pushed through the doorway, but this time, a dark figure had come with it. As soon as I laid eyes on it, I fell unconscious.
When I finally came to, I found myself at a police station in cuffs and in a cell. "Wh-what happened?" I stammered. One of the officers walked over to the cell, looking at me with disgust in his eyes. "Mr. Parker was found dead in your basement. We also found his blood all over your coat and on a doorknob. The doorknob was removed from the front door." I began to cry as he told me the story. "It wasn't me! Something was out there! It did it!" I pleaded. "Sure, we'll go with your little fantasy." the officer said as he walked away. I'm telling you this story from a mental asylum. If you ever see this... this thing, don't let it near you. Never, and I mean never, let it near you.
<u>This is the end of this recording. Please rewind the tape to the beginning. Thank you.</u>
"So... Amanda. It seems as if you've been framed for murder? A murder that didn't even happen," Mr. Parker grinned from ear to ear. The basement was dimly lit with the flickering flame of the candles set around an upside-down star. Mr. Parker put a knife to his hand. "Let's see if we can frame someone else."
Explanation: