Creative Writing consists of quick writes and short story writing. Michael and I decided to write a short story on the same topic, but from the perspectives of two different people.
"...and he kisses me. I felt butterflies in my stomach and all the air left my body. I felt weightless, as if I was floating around in space. He completes me.", I read with emotion.
"...and I kissed her. I felt her soft lips and her gentle touch on my arms. My hair stood on end. Out connection was electrifying. She sends me to nirvana.", He finished.
The class clapped at our ending, and we smiled at each other.
"You two are a dynamic duo! You can always work together in my class.", Mrs. Sloan said.
We could only smile at each other.
Fine Arts gave me a chance to really express myself. Michael and I sat beside each other and started to draw the first things that came to our minds. As we prepared to show our pieces to each other, our teacher, Mr. Cirrus, looked at them and smiled.
"On the count of three.", Michael started.
"One..."
"Two..."
"THREE!", we yelled together, flipping over our drawings.
I drew a woman in what looked like a desert. She had on a short, flowy white skirt and an almost cropped shirt. Her ebony skin almost looked as if it was glistening in the sun, and she sat on her knees, sitting back with her back arched and her long hair touching the sand.
Michael drew a forest on fire. There were burned plants and trees, and red embers strewn across the ground.
"Your reason behind it?", I asked.
"The Earth needs us. We kill it slowly, when we should be helping it live. The Earth is weeping and some people don't even care.", he stated.
Mr. Cirrus decided to hang our drawings on the memory board for our grade. We were placed at the top, among pictures of flowers and puppies.
He appreciates the small things.
And I appreciate that.
YOU ARE READING
Breathe: A Michael Jackson Story
Fanfiction"Kisses like sweet daggers, You plunge them into my heart. I do not mind dying, If you are killing me, With those soft, loving kisses."
