[✔] Edited!
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If you are a new reader, welcome and enjoy. :)
If you are an old reader, welcome back and enjoy the changes I've made. It's no longer first person, this is a third person story now. The description and my writing style improved a lot and I've added an extra scene in the beginning that makes me feel a lot better about the "welcoming" of the story. Tell me how you like it, yeah?
Sean is not crazy, by the way! O_O
{I dedicate this chapter to TeshelleCombs because the fighting in her story, Core, greatly influenced how I wrote the fight scene in this chapter. She's a great writer. :)}
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Chapter One
Edited: 3/6/2013.
Never had Sean imagined that the loyal wind would mislead him. He maintains a cautious stride to maintain speed with the wind's agility as he zigzags through the skies' pouring tears. The wind, with mindless deception nonetheless, guides Sean into a bull's path. He, with no doubt, would rather dance in the rain than bathe in the sun. While the rays belonging to the star closest to Earth drives out the cold just as it should, it haughtily mocks the ones full of woe. It casts a shadow just as grim as they.
Sean knows better than to trust the blinding hues of baby blue.
He pauses abruplty to tilt his dripping head backwards. Above him the melancholy clouds stretch as far as his eyes can see. They guard his small town from the wicked sun and with a wide grin, he welcomes them heartily. Wistfully in reply, they glide across the sky; beckoning him kindly to share his troubles. To comply, Sean shed a single tear of his own. The droplets of the two companions mingle and together, the two share their laments. Sean knew the sky only wept to revivify the broken people.
Oh but the wind, the wind has always been a more fond friend to Sean. Its gentle wisps always drift closely by his side, whistling that he isn't alone. Sean always found himself wanting to walk in the direction of the wing but out of better judgement for his sanity, he'd go wherever he need be.
Although when the grandfather clock in his living room indicated midnight, he decided tonight would be different. He'll give freedom to his urges. He'll allow his chilly savior to settle comfortably in his pores. The wind will have permission to direct him away from his current reality. It will accompany him to his personal cloud nine. The ignorant bliss sweeps away his worries as if lead him through the rainy obivion. The downpour acts as a sheet in front of him; Sean can barely see the illumination of a light post ten feet away.
A consistent sound stands out within the rain's relentless pelting. Sean can tell it's distant but the clap against the glistening sidewalk only grew nearer and it jerks Sean out of his enchanted state.
"Hello?" He calls out sadly. He hadn't wanted to leave his utopia so soon.
The clapping continues fiercely, almost quieting the thunder's uproar. The wind has seized by now, leaving Sean solitary. The timing of the whisks stir up his emotions. It's as if the weather has him by strings, toying with him like a puppet. Then a jagged flash of light brightens the horizons, shocking Sean with its presence. Taking advantage of the lit skies, he greedily took in his soaked surroundings. It's enough time for him to meet eyes with a rushing silhouette.
A piercing green contributes to his anxiety; the rain couldn't wash that away like it had his worries. His heart is hyperventilating behind his ribcage and before he could grasp awareness, the shadowed contour collides into him.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl with the Butterfly Tattoo
Mystery / Thriller"I'm not so naive, my sorry eyes can see." If only those sorry eyes could see behind the impenetratable walls of the CAC. You could say they're like the CIA, FBI, DIA or any other organization that focuses on enforcing national security to America...