Hello! All my friends said that the fire part was gross - sorry. Oh, and I have tried to make progress on this. Light years of homework+ writers block= NO UPDATING! So I'll try to make this long.... :P
Yes! And I changed the name! I came up with it at 10 o'clock a night, I was all like, that's cool! And stuff, yeah.... awkward silence..... okay I will let you read..... yeah.
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I blinked away the glittering tears in my eyes. "What have I done? I whispered, hugging my scraped knees.
I lost my guide. The one person who I thought could help me had disappeared in the wind like a ghost, fading away in the sunset streaming behind me. My hope was gone, like a secret in a crowd, never to be heard.
The cool, late air dances around me, the grey ashes lifting towards the sky in twirling fashion. The warm air was slowly mixing with the cold, my warmth disappearing with the wind.
"He's gone." I whispered, my eyes dazed looking at the note carefully carved into the dry dirt. "I drove away my only hope."
Even if I lost the shadow, I still had to live. I knew that for a fact. All I needed was some wood, kindle, and.... something. (Hey, I'm not a very outdoorsy person, don't judge.)
I said I could live without fire. A shiver reached up my spine, my legs numb. Cold nights + no fire = freezing person. Basic math here.
Finally, after a couple of long seconds of staring into the distance, I stand up to look at myself.
For all the five nights I've been here, I've never had the time to stop and look at myself. And boy, was it a mess.
I'm the type of girl who wears all pastel colors, like pink and yellow. But now, my clothes were a whole different story.
My pink short sleeved shirt was now a rag, cut and torn into pieces, barely hanging on like a thread. The mud stained through, the shirt now a pretzel brown. My once perfect skinny jean were now tattered and beaten. One pant leg was nearly completely torn off to the knee.
RRRRRIIIIIIPPPPP. I tore off the pant leg to the knee. "It was bugging me." I mumbled to myself.
My once bouncy curls were now flat and snarled, covered in bits of leaves and dirt. But, probably the worst part was my SMELL.
I had nothing to change into since I came, and boy, did I smell. The stench of old, rotten ocean plants filled the air. I smelt like sweat,dirt, and ocean water. Discussing, no?
My shirt stuck to my body, itchy and dry. My breath probably smelt like it did when I wake up - like something died in there. My head was pounding, like it was being hit with a hammer.
My stomach growled uncontrollably, pain too hard to bear. Food, food, food. I thought to myself. What was I going to eat? I lived in a world with no animals, plus I had no weapons. No weapons + no animals = NO FOOD. I had no idea what plants were okay to eat, either.
But that got me wondering...... how did I have pancakes that firsts day? Pancakes required eggs, and you need a chicken to lay eggs. And where did they get the wheat? I had gone to almost every square inch of the world..... and there were no fields. How could they feed us?
And those girls, the ones playing hopscotch. Wasn't one of them eating a sandwich? Yes, I saw the stacked ham right in the middle, filled with thin slices of cheese with thick, fluffy bread. How can you have ham with no pig?
Oh, and yes, that boy humming, he had a glass of milk. Milk with no cows.
It was all coming to me. The kids holding hands, the boy was giving the girl cake. The mayor was eating bread with butter. A boy eating spaghetti. Where was the food coming from?!
YOU ARE READING
This Place We Call Home (discontinued)
Fantasy[ Originally named "13" ]. For most people, thirteen is the good year of your life. You can see the world with different eyes. You can finally be treated like an adult. As a teen, life just gets a little better. Maybe for you it does. In my town...