Intro:
I woke up on the blistering ground breathing heavily. It felt like my body was ignited. I had to move my arms to make sure I was still intact. Looking down, to my surprise they were all still there, my dark curls that still managed to make their way around my face, the rose he put in my hair that morning, the cigar burn from paris and of course my two arms, legs, and eyes that reminded me everyday that I was still in fact human.
My lungs....
They were lacking oxygen.
They were lacking the will to breathe.
Gasping for air, I used the tree adjacent to me for support, leaning against it for strength.
I was slowly losing control over my body.
Maybe I wasn't trying hard enough
Maybe it's because I didn't have a reason to live anymore .....
YOU ARE READING
Sinster kid
Teen FictionA sinister kid is a kid who Runs to meet his Maker A drop dead sprint from the day he's born Straight into his Maker's arms And that's me, that's me The boy with the broken halo That's me, that's me The devil won't let me be I got a tortured...
