"Where do I go from here...?"
The question that Zayla has been forced to ask herself time and time again.She lost it all, first were her family then her home, and next is her life if she doesn't do what they say, and it's all because of...
Hi Risers!!!!!!!!!!!!!! to be honest I'm losing spirit i mean i love writing but i and the whole point is so that you can show people but i mean nobody really reads my book *sigh* i want to keep trying though so here goes, Enjoy
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I spent the next thirty minutes or so scrawling my name in different fonts across the still disgusting but now useful wall. I was now on the twenty-eighth font when I was stopped dead in my tracks.
For the second time now I heard the eerie screeching noise that the door down the hall made when it opened. I instantly dropped the twig that I had been using and listened for the indication of moving feet and clanking metal. At first there was no sound, then a steady rhythm of steps began that soon quickened.
Pat- pat- pat- pat, pat, pat, pat, patpatpatpatpat....
Strangely there wasn't a hint of mental and as the figure grew closer I realized that it was too short to be a fender. My second thought was that the teenage boy had been sent down to get rid care of me personally, not that I was going to let that happen, but the quickly moving figure was still too small to even be him. Without acknowledging my actions, I had crept to the entrance of the prison so that I was about have a foot from the bars.
The noise continued but slowed down as it reached the cell. The figure finally came into my field of vision and I immediately realized who it was. To my surprise the little boy from before stood awkwardly in front of the cell door; he was small but bursting with life. Held tightly against his chest was a something wrapped in small buff colored cloth. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other then loosened his grip on the cloth wrapped object. He silently unwrapped the fabric revealing a couple chunks of meat, two pieces of bread and a small baked potato. When he saw I hadn't made any motion towards cloth he finally spoke.
"Umm, well... I thought you might be hungry so I brought you some food."
I didn't move, I was still trying to understand why this little boy who knew nothing about me was trying to help me and if he was really trying to help me at all.
He bent down and moved his small cupped hands closer to me encouraging me to take what he was offering.
"Oh, I-I didn't do anything to it so you don't have to worry." He said timidly
For some unknown reason I believed him; I reached my hand out and the boy met me half way. I picked up the four edges of the cloth and lifted from the boy's hand. As soon as it completely left contact with his hands a child-like smile spread across his face, lifting the freckles that sat on top of his cheeks. He sprang back to his feet and bushed himself off.
"Sorry that's all I can give you, but I have to go now...Bye"
Before I could force a thank you out he had already turned and was sprinting towards the door with his bare feet slapping against the floor making the familiar 'pat' sound.
