A Lily, Finely Inked in Black_Mystery Child_Meet Insanity_Forest of the Sorceress
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A Lily, Finely Inked in Black
I should be dead.Perhaps I was, for a while. All I know is that I gave up, and I lay down in the snow, too tired to carry on. A year ago I wouldn’t have believed anyone who told me that I would ever be too tired to keep living. I would have laughed, said that fatigue was all in the mind, that the human body (mine especially) was more than capable of transcending tired – especially when the stakes were life and death. Keep going, keep suffering, and you might live. Or lie down, rest, and be certain you will die. In my youthful pride, my blind trust in myself, I would never have thought that I w...
Mystery Child
It is the year 1967、 My name is Betsy, and I will be telling my story. I sit alone in a hallway, in a day seat. I am by the stairs in a row home. I am three months of age. I have red hair and hazel eyes.I hear people shouting. Two of these persons are my mother and father. I do not know who the other two voices belong to. I had only heard their voices way back then!I am about seven. I just finished reading a hundred and some page book, and I am very excited about it! I had a hard time learning to read when I was young, so when I did learn it was a huge accomplishment for me! I went to tell my ...
Meet Insanity
Meet InsanityA boy sat in the darkness; on the banks of little brook which ran in the woods just outside the crooked house.He looked at his clean hands.He marvelled at his hands. To him, something have changed about them, after he had washed them in the fast flowing stream, after he had washed away the mud and blood. His hands looked firmer, as if the slight shiver and ineptness were separated from them.The boy turned around and looked towards the crooked house, at the twinkle of lights, which were visible through the few trees. He looked up at the twinkle of the stars.He closed his eyes and...
Forest of the Sorceress
Long hair and a bushy tail tipped in green vanished under thick roots, scattering fallen branches and splashing across a stream. Lena Wulfrun followed, her hands outstretched as if she could grasp the cat at any moment.The dead wintry odor had given way to the fresh scent of spring, wafting into her nostrils as her hands brushed away low branches and her feet crunched on dried leaves.She rounded a wide tree, but the cat was gone. Her cheeks ached from laughter and her legs were sore www.onedoor.ccfrom a barrage of small cuts. In her hurry, she had ignored the many thorny bushes in her path. But worst of all...