Post by Rose Karter on Jun 4, 2006 16:15:56 GMT -5
^^; Written for my school newspaper in 8th grade...
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XD Really twisted story...
« Thread Started on Feb 14, 2005, 10:03am »
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Running. Can’t stop. Can’t let him catch me. God, I’m so tired…Wait, got my second wind! Ack! There it goes! Woo-hoo! Third wind! Okay, I’m good now.
My legs are killing me from all this running. I don’t know how long it’s been. An hour? Two? Nah, maybe just five minutes at the most. I never was good at paying attent-Hey! A squirrel! Here, squirrelly, squirrelly, squirrelly…
The forest scenery rushes by me as I race by, frantically searching for a safe haven. Wonder if I can fit in a tree trunk…OW!!!! Owowowowowowow! I guess not . . .
Thorns and branches tear at my flesh and get caught in my hair. Ooooooooooooooooooowie…These are gonna be murder to brush out later.
I freeze. The sound of approaching footsteps alerts me. Snap, snap, snap. Twigs breaking under heavy footsteps. I heat him call my name. He says I’m safe. Yeah, right. I’m about as safe ass Michael Jackson dropping the soap in a prison shower.
Thinking fast, I jump into the nearest bush. YEOW! Thorn bush, to be exact. I fight the urge to scream like a little girl and stay completely still.
I reach up and scratch my ear. It’s bleeding. ‘Damn.’ I curse silently. ‘Why does crappy stuff always happen to me?’
“There you are!” My assailent cries from above me and picks me up I his arms. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Duncan. Those fleas are just gonna keep knowing at you if I don’t give you a flea bath. Why’d you run away?”
I sigh and let Andrew, owner, carry me back to his backyard, only a few yards away. Sometimes being a 12-year old's dog really bites . . .
___
XD Really twisted story...
« Thread Started on Feb 14, 2005, 10:03am »
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Running. Can’t stop. Can’t let him catch me. God, I’m so tired…Wait, got my second wind! Ack! There it goes! Woo-hoo! Third wind! Okay, I’m good now.
My legs are killing me from all this running. I don’t know how long it’s been. An hour? Two? Nah, maybe just five minutes at the most. I never was good at paying attent-Hey! A squirrel! Here, squirrelly, squirrelly, squirrelly…
The forest scenery rushes by me as I race by, frantically searching for a safe haven. Wonder if I can fit in a tree trunk…OW!!!! Owowowowowowow! I guess not . . .
Thorns and branches tear at my flesh and get caught in my hair. Ooooooooooooooooooowie…These are gonna be murder to brush out later.
I freeze. The sound of approaching footsteps alerts me. Snap, snap, snap. Twigs breaking under heavy footsteps. I heat him call my name. He says I’m safe. Yeah, right. I’m about as safe ass Michael Jackson dropping the soap in a prison shower.
Thinking fast, I jump into the nearest bush. YEOW! Thorn bush, to be exact. I fight the urge to scream like a little girl and stay completely still.
I reach up and scratch my ear. It’s bleeding. ‘Damn.’ I curse silently. ‘Why does crappy stuff always happen to me?’
“There you are!” My assailent cries from above me and picks me up I his arms. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Duncan. Those fleas are just gonna keep knowing at you if I don’t give you a flea bath. Why’d you run away?”
I sigh and let Andrew, owner, carry me back to his backyard, only a few yards away. Sometimes being a 12-year old's dog really bites . . .