"You can't be real this isn't real."
He touched my arm and looked at me,
It can be.
I stare up at him, the part of my arm he'd been touching burned although his hands were so cold.
"This is real?"
He nods smiling and I notice how red his lips are even though his skin was very fair.
"What are you?"
YOU ARE READING
Unwritten «m.c.»
Fiksi PenggemarAs kids we used to play a game called make believe, we'd pretend something was real. Adults always would laugh at us because they supposedly knew that things were ridiculous and impossible, but we thought they were. We knew the truth.
