Status: writing.
Rebel.
the past
So I just sit there silently, eyes on my converse sneakers.
"Just a bit of paperwork, then it will be sent for approval." she states, in her high british accent.
There is very few white left on these old shoes, my Sharpie doodles taking up all the space.
Hearts, smileys, abstract lines, stars. I dare not glance up, they cannot see my eyes. They may sense something, like my actual presence, and try to talk to me.
I don't want to talk.
I don't want to hear.
I don't want to leave
But there's no use in telling anybody that.
They don't believe me.
They think I'm a troublemaking rebel, trying to push my way around the law.
Really?
My copper auburn hair flows around my face, knotted, tangled.
Knotted, tangled.
That sort-of explains my life right now.
But it wasn't always like this.
Not always.
Her eyes sparkled in the summer sun, with him near her.
On the swings, they were.
Her favourite place.
The other kids played in the sandbox, while she enjoyed swinging and feeling the cool breeze against her porcelain skin.
Her deep copper eyes seemed to pop against it.
Just a few yards away, her parents -- laughing, talking, fooling around. Her mother tilted her head back slightly, and let out a loud guffaw.
Both the little girl and the boy turned to see what the commotion was.
"Mom? What's so funny," she asked, jumping off the swing. The little boy did the same. They made their way toward the two adults, seeming so large at the time. They were grown-ups, big, strong, and powerful. They made the decisions.
"Oh, nothing, dear. Your father's just being a goof again." Her mother replied quickly, as her father grinned.
"Okay ma, we're just over here," she explained, then they both went back to the swings.
"Contest!" the little boy yelled suddenly.
"What?"
"Who can swing higher?"
"Me, I can!" she replied playfully.
"No you can't! Let's see who can swing higher!" he laughed a little, then they both hopped onto the swings.
The little girl kicked her legs, in, out, in out, like her father had taught her to.
The little boy did the same.
The crystal blue sky was full of full, puffy white clouds, and the world seemed like it was smiling.
They both giggled and laughed, gaining more height and speed.
But it wouldn't be this happy for long.
"Just a bit of paperwork, then it will be sent for approval." she states, in her high british accent.
There is very few white left on these old shoes, my Sharpie doodles taking up all the space.
Hearts, smileys, abstract lines, stars. I dare not glance up, they cannot see my eyes. They may sense something, like my actual presence, and try to talk to me.
I don't want to talk.
I don't want to hear.
I don't want to leave
But there's no use in telling anybody that.
They don't believe me.
They think I'm a troublemaking rebel, trying to push my way around the law.
Really?
My copper auburn hair flows around my face, knotted, tangled.
Knotted, tangled.
That sort-of explains my life right now.
But it wasn't always like this.
Not always.
Her eyes sparkled in the summer sun, with him near her.
On the swings, they were.
Her favourite place.
The other kids played in the sandbox, while she enjoyed swinging and feeling the cool breeze against her porcelain skin.
Her deep copper eyes seemed to pop against it.
Just a few yards away, her parents -- laughing, talking, fooling around. Her mother tilted her head back slightly, and let out a loud guffaw.
Both the little girl and the boy turned to see what the commotion was.
"Mom? What's so funny," she asked, jumping off the swing. The little boy did the same. They made their way toward the two adults, seeming so large at the time. They were grown-ups, big, strong, and powerful. They made the decisions.
"Oh, nothing, dear. Your father's just being a goof again." Her mother replied quickly, as her father grinned.
"Okay ma, we're just over here," she explained, then they both went back to the swings.
"Contest!" the little boy yelled suddenly.
"What?"
"Who can swing higher?"
"Me, I can!" she replied playfully.
"No you can't! Let's see who can swing higher!" he laughed a little, then they both hopped onto the swings.
The little girl kicked her legs, in, out, in out, like her father had taught her to.
The little boy did the same.
The crystal blue sky was full of full, puffy white clouds, and the world seemed like it was smiling.
They both giggled and laughed, gaining more height and speed.
But it wouldn't be this happy for long.
♠ ♠ ♠
wow, i really don't know where this came from. i was just writing on and on, when this came into my head. pleeeease comment. :)