rachelbiddle
The straw was striped blue. I dipped it into the glass and began to sip the thick liquid. I couldn't believe what i had done today. But what was most astonishing was the fact that, here i was, drinking a milk shake, acting like i hadn't contributed to the murder of my best friend.
I looked a the list, my heart pounding so loudly I swore Carmicheal could hear it. Breathing, i found the name: Mrs. Lovitt. Underneath the charter: Elizabeth Starters. My name.
The stem is green and plump. As the flower drinks in the sun, the stem sits silently, supporting it's beautiful head. Nothing can know how the stem feels, carrying the weight, never being admired.
The crane stood placidly, watching the people stroll along the shore. his white feathers shone like silver in the moonlight. No one dared disturb the crane. He seemed neccesary to the landscape. All we know is that the crane has always been there, standing placidly, watching the people stroll along the shore.
Its a given, my insanity. People think it's something you can change, but i know that's a lie. No one can alter his mind. Being a lunatic is inevitable. You can see it it in my actions, my room, in my world. My mind is next to normal. And I'm okay with that.
I try to be honest. Honest with my family, my friends, but dammit, i can't be honest with myself. I try to act like I'm okay, like everything is cool. All i want to avoid is the cliche teen angst that calls to every American teenager
She waded into the water, the cool blue lapping at her knees. She looked for the bodies, knowing they had been left here. Suddenly, her leg bumped a hard object. She looked down to gaze into the dead eyes of a 72-year-old man.