Scrivere

Where I was stood it felt like flying. I could feel the soft breeze caressing my face and lifting tendrils of my long black hair. I smiled slightly as the wind reminded me of my mother. She was always with me, just like she detto she would be.
I opened my eyes slowly to look at the beautiful world around me. Standing on a piece of jutting out rock successivo to the waterfall, I could hear the water rushing and cascading downwards. I could see all the trees laid out beneath me, lush and smeraldo green, only separated da the wide, glistening blue river that carried on the waterfall I was successivo to.
I...

Defined words;
Words that play roles in the exact Deadly forms that declare one as a person.
Tears written da the hand of an invisible Teenage nothing.
Whose words represent the world’s untold secrets,
who is nothing may write all that is something.
Yet there plays a frown of despair and loneliness,
Eyes falling through her transparent perspective, creativity a blob ignored da most.
There is a hollow Empty,
Yearning for something,
Misunderstood and malicious morbidity that attacks her soul in a war of mankind;
The end to everything and yet the beginning of something totally new.
Who mimics her...

That giorno at school, I was afraid for possibly my life. If Blake let anything slip... I was dead. I was afraid to mention anything though. What if he decided he would tell someone? In English class, he talked to me like normal, but he seemed reserved. He wasn't his usual happy-self. Then Mateo came over.

"Hey man, why'd te leave last night? It was awesome!" he said. Blake looked back at me; a reminder. Apparently Mateo paid little to no attention to me last night.

"Something came up," Blake detto exasperated. Mateo rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Are we still hanging out tonight? Gwen wants to go see...