tails

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@$#@^#&^%(&>?:<:<@<?<$#%$@<":Luke's PoV<>#?><@$:<@$:<":@<?$<@?><?@$<?>$<?

Quickly, I climb up to the middle of the tree, where Ben and Jack's tree house used to be. I never liked the tree house, it took away from the tree. The nails dug into its arms, the planks of wood cutting off my poor tree's circulation. It's just horrible really.

I  look around, the planks are rotting away, finally, after not being used in years. There are old juiceboxes strewn across the flooring, guitars standing limply against the walls.

 I climb back down, the guitars in tow, and set them against the house. I've always had this thing with picking up acorns and walnuts. Mum says it's because I'm a squirrel but I don't know.

The funny thing with the tree is, it's split between us and the neighbors, only a fence in blocking the other side. The other side of the fence is scary. There's always weird noises coming from that yard, almost like they have a pet cat that enjoys the outside. Cats are weird. And scary.

@#$@%@*&%@&@^%#@&^Kathrine's PoV%@(*&)(@?@<@":<"@:<"@&^@$&%#!@$*^%!@

I see a rustle in the sharing tree. I start climbing up the trunk slowly, using the fence to help me. I can't hear any birds, nor did I see any fly away. What could be in the tree?

I get hit multiple times by something hard and pointy. I look down, acorns scatter the ground below me. What? "Ow, who are you? And why are you throwing acorns at me?" I rub my arms, hping i wont have bruises from the acorns tomorrow.

something moves and I see a fluffy tail hit my arm.  In an instant, i reach forward and pet it. So fluffy.. I love it. Fluffy and soft and fuzzy. I want it.

"Hey, quit hugging my tail!" A boy yells. "It wasn't supposed to fluff out yet.." he mumbles. I can't see his face but I till see his tail. Remaining in my daze, I climb higher and pet his tail again.

"I want."

"You can't have my ta- Oh my god you've seen my tail! Oh.. Oh no.."

"I'ts cute, I like it." He hyperventilates.

"Sees tail, no no. Luke's tail, not you's" he breathes out, taking his tail swiftly from my grasp. "You has you own tail anyway," he points to where the very tip of my tail was twitching about, somehow unlooped from my belt loops. I give him a look of pure, increduous shock. "Was twitchin' an' bodered," he attempts at comforting me, but it was too late. I was already scared. Too scared.

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⏰ Last updated: Oct 27, 2014 ⏰

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