December 31, 2012
Our break is coming to an end. The fourth is our first day back. Our first day back is on a Wednesday. Stupid... isn't it..? Skylar is at my house with firecrackers. We're going to go onto the roof with blankets and pillows and watch the fireworks at midnight. I never understood why they do that. Light fireworks. Just to symbolize midnight or... a new year.
"Hey. The fireworks are almost on. It's 11:57!" Skylar said, skipping cheerfully.
"Great." I muttered sarcastically.
"Well then let's go!"
If she noticed my sarcasm, she didn't show it, and dragged me out the door and up the ladder to the rooftop.
"11:59."
I stared at her.
"11:59 and a half." she said glancing at her watch every few seconds.
"11:59 and three quarters."
January 1, 2012
"Twe---", she said as the first firework was sent into the air, followed by many others. Red, green, yellow, magenta, turquoise, purple, orange. Colors I had never even seen before all shooting brightly into the sky. My eyelids fluttered for a moment, and I tried hard to keep my eyes open. No luck.
"Hey... get up. Up up up up up!" said a familiar voice, "The fireworks are over... It's like two in the morning."
I rubbed my eyes, and yawned, then stood up. "Okay. Good. Let's go."
January 4, 2012
First day back at school... Ms. Placentia had us write poems in Language Arts today.
"I can't do this!" shouted a girl.
"Did you finish?" Skylar asked after throwing away her fifth piece of paper.
"Sure." I replied.
Sighing, she looked at me annoyed. "You KNOW I hate it when you answer with 'Sure'. It's so annoying. Like seriously, it's a yes or no answer. Why would you answer with 'sure'. It just PISSES me off!" she shouted in frustration, "What do you have so far?"
I stared at her with a smirk on my face, and then stared at my paper.
The sun is bright,
The air was fresh,
The trees are filled,
With burning flesh,
The blood is dark,
The skin is raw,
There's nothing left,
Except the saw.
The rose that falls,
Is all but red,
It shows the mourning,
Of the dead.
The bones are left,
All piled with blood,
They're sunken deep,
Within the mud.
The sun is bright,
The air is fresh,
The trees were filled,
With burning flesh.
The paper was yanked out of my hand. I waited for ten seconds.
"What. The. Hell. That was the most depressing thing I have EVER read." Skylar said. "Teach me to write one of those!"
YOU ARE READING
In the Palm of My Hand
Teen FictionI still remember how we met, and how rude I was. I remember how close we got in just nineteen months and how he turned my life completely upside down. I remember his face and his smile and his eyes, and how everything went from a perfect fairy tale...
