I imagined running down the fourth grade hall, which seemed to go on forever. Finally it stopped, or so I thought. The path was blocked by fifth, sixth, seventh graders. Third graders lined the lockers against the wall, as if hiding something. The kids giggled. They ARE hiding something!
Then I started to shrink. Or were they growing? More tears spilled out of my eyes, harder, like a storm. My wavy brown hair blocked my view as I tried to charge through the crowd, which was now taller than the Empire State building. People that I don't recognize stare into my cold gray eyes, tearing me apart piece by piece. Suddenly, a cold hand grabs my shirt and yanks me up off the ground, and onto my feet. I guess it was imagined after all that.
YOU ARE READING
Lost At Heart
General Fiction10 year old Josie has nothing but bad memories. The worst was being forced to watch her parents get murdered, but somehow she manages to get her memory of that day wiped, too. Will she ever find out what happened?
