Little Heart

Little Heart

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, May 14, 2016
My soft, wavy brown hair, rippled in the wind. My legs shaking with excitement, almost knocking down the rickety boxes I am standing on. I gaze on the children playing on the playground not so far from here. Mommy says, that I'm not normal, and that I cant have friends. My arms now lifting my weight, as I lean out of the small open window. To small to fit through. I giggled with excitement as I stared at the now laughing children. They were playing the floor is lava. The wind came rushing through the window, and was about to knock me over. I tightened my grip on the old rusty window. I jumped at the sudden clatter of plates on the floor. I looked around the dark, abandoned room, only to sigh in relief when my eyes spotted the rat scattering around the floor playfully. I turned around happily, only to let out a slight cry at the sight of the kids being scolded by what seemed like a parent. I sighed and couldn't help but let out a loud scream when the boxes began tumbling over.
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#606
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Something didn't feel right. I looked around my room slowly; cautiously; taking everything in and trying not to feel too nervous. Perhaps Lure was in my room right now, watching me, silently laughing to himself. I didn't doubt it. I slipped off my bed and walked around, hugging my waist, and tilted my head. I felt my rough ponytail slide against the back of my neck and over my shoulder as I moved. "Lure?" I hissed, "Lure, are you there?" I wandered around a little, for some reason feeling scared. But why? It was only Lure. He wouldn't hurt me, would he? "Okay, Lure. Quit it. I know it's you. Who else would it-" I stopped, startled, when I heard a strange sound that made me cringe. It was like fingernails being dragged across a chalkboard. I whipped around and came face-to-face with my mirror. Immediately, I saw the difference. Various scratches were displayed across the glass, forming words. It looked as if claws had written the words in the mirror. "Deepest apologies, but it was fun." (All credit goes to my sister, who wrote this when she was in the twelfth grade)

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