By me .
What was scary that day weren't the terrorists with guns that brought death with them.
It wasn't the foul smell of bloud in the air .
Nor wast it the aorgans and body parts laying on the ground with the dead body's of the victims.
It wasn't the the thunder and rain either .
Neather the fact that the police man and army cowored in fear and didn't aprauch the scene unfolding in front of me.
The screams where muffled by the pouring rain and the loud thunder.
The smell of bloud was damped by the rain .
And the terrorists ran away in fear.
I didn't budge from my place.
Not when the terrorists came nor when she appeared .
" she " huh.
That seeming little girl with dark brown who could be mistaken for black.
The white porcelaine skin now covered in blood.
Those pretty plump pink lips that hidded theats as sharp as knifes.
Those green eyes that shined like jewels while expressing nothing .
Her pretty black and red dress now covered in blood too.
The girl looked at the sky for a few socends seeming in trans while the remaining survivants ran away.
The girl got out of her trans and begain what she began again.
She rapidly closed the distance and cut her ennemy with her weapon.
Swinging it with ease .
It looked like a dance .
The dancz of death.
When it ednded i couldn't help but fel sad . The only other way to see her was or death for someone else or for mine .
A yes , the scry parth was all her .
That doll like girl called death.
