"Heart"
I stood there infront of a little boy. He was probably about seven to nine years old. The wind blew wildly and my long light-brown hair blew in its rhythem. It had a consistant tempo that made my hair whip in its pressence.
The boy had his right eye wrapped up in bandages, it made me curious of this small boy's lifestyle. In some ways he scared me. Maybe it was just a first impression thing, but I felt like he was an escapee from an assylum or something. It was probably just the bandages over his eye, but it was just this intense feeling that's devouring my heart. It kind of made life feel like a burden. Like you would rather die than take the pressure.
This place, I can't figure out where I am. It's just plain white. Like maybe a lineless piece of paper glued all over the world would look. I looked him straight in the eyes and automatically felt a connection. Though, it felt somewhat artificial. Like it wasn't really there, but I wanted it to be real and in trying I created something entirely fake.
He looked right back at me like the fake connection was real, and struggled in lifting his arm up. Now I realized that his whole body was wrapped up in bandages. It's actually pretty creepy when you notice, like seeing it rain in the middle of a drout.
His hair was long and black, he wore loose light-blue jeans, and a gray shirt that wrote, "NATION". In trying to reach his arm up to me he trembled. His arm shook as if I were a tiger about to rip him to pieces. I wonder why he would shake like that. Like he was afraid of something. Like he were afraid of me. . . but why be afraid of me? To be honest, I'm not an excellent fighter and I'm a pretty big coward too. It's not like I'm plotting to do a whole kidnap-murder gig. I'm just a regular freshmen high school girl.
"Don't worry! I won't hurt you! Scout's honor!" I crossed my hand over my heart as if I were putting my life on the lineof my honesty.
"I'm. . ." He struggled to get the words out of his mouth.
"Uh-huh? What's wrong?" I leaned over to match my eye level to his.
"I. . . I was. . ." Again, he failed to spill the beans.
"I was worried about you, ma'am."
All I'm concered about now is why he would be worried about me in an abandoned place like this. A sweat drop started its way down my cheek. My light-brown hair drooped over my arched shoulders. Stranger yet, I feel like somone's eyes are constantly watching my back.
I hope you enjoyed it! Stay Tuned! mrgreen
