It is really amazing the random things you find when you are packing to move. I've found jewelry I thought was long gone, the card that Lonnie asked me to be his girlfriend with, and some random short stories I found that I wrote when I was in high school. I wrote this one after the Columbine shooting, it is kind of disturbing, but at the same time I find it fascinating that I wrote this when I was just 16.
Untitled:
The classroom was barley a small cream square then, as I ran behind them; and the street was just one more hostile road, not nearly as tolerant nor yet so pure; and the cars were just a stream of short crazy colored flashes and soft white patches separated. On the edge of the sidewalk I could barely see the two secluded bloody things that seemed to be standing up; one of these was the girl by obtaining her dress ripped- like a disassembled body upon a stake- a beautiful thing when I was near her; the other boy, with some blood dripping from him which had once flowed inside. The boy was crawling upon her, like if he were the living fated to death to fly up, and holding himself back to take himself down again. She gave him a comforting look when she saw so, and I see the people lowering their heads to avoid it tragically, I pondered why they saw this. I wandered all around for the infamous grim reaper, I could find no hint of him. But now I am positive again, and run to them without hesitation.
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