MidnightAngel2003
It was hard to hide the blemish of her soul. I couldn't just feel her, I could see her! She drifted towards me, arms open, hand reaching out to touch me. Then, I realize she's choking me. I felll down, falling
I melted under his gaze. I loved him.
I was scarred permanently after that day. Not because of the car, not because of the stitches, but more because of the hole the crash left in my heart. I should have saved him... I should have done something... I could have done something. On good days, it's bad, and bad days, it's worse. But he would have wanted me to keep on with life, to lead a better life. I will always mourn him. But scarring doesn't last forever, and if it does, you can always cover up and forget about it.
The Planter was something of a conspicuous man. He would walk around in broad daylight, always carrying a shovel, and always seen with dirty trousers. People stop and stare, and a few who are bold enough approach him and ask "Why are your pants dirty?" The old man would smile, and reply, "Because I'm the Planter, and you can't plant when you're all fussy."
People would think him strange, but I know better. The Planter is something of a work of art, of a handful of people that appreciate life for what it is, and why we live for it.
ok what to do?
"dont think about it, just do it already!" that was the answer. I took a deep breath, and switched the mosquito repellent with corrosive bleach. I climbed back over the fence. She high-fived me. I had a weird feeling in my gut, I was afraid, but I kept it to myself.
The next day, in the news, there, right on the front page. He'd died. I ran upstairs, fearing the worst. Nothing happened.
The knock came 2 days later. They found fingerprints. one by one, they scanned my parents and siblings. I went to the washroom. Look into the mirror for the last time, then slide out the knife.
I protest. I protest against law, for those who are discriminated, against those who discriminate. Young generations find this as a pastime, a hobby, a fun experience, yet I protest against them. I protest for those who are underestimated, like myself, and for those who have the fight, the willpower, and the strength. GO GIRLS!!!!!!
I remember my first badge. It now lives in a box. I made is the spring of junior kindergarten. It's a messed-up sort of thing, one ribbon on the front, one on the back. As a perfectionist I would have ripped my hair out, yet I still treasure it.
People think tandems are really old-fashioned, but they're not. They're actually really cool. A bit boring, but still really cool. Ever think about riding in a carriage. Well, a tandem is taht. you feel like your drifting through the stars.
I believe. That word carries a lot of strength, of power. You can always rely on me to be there. I am an anonymous source, yet you can tell who I am. Everyone sees me as someone different. Who am I? I am a belief