March 28, 2011
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When I walked outside, I could taste the cold air. It wasn’t like every other night, or every poem you read; that freezing air was circulating my blood. She was inside, they all were, listening to each other listen to themselves, but I just needed to get out. At that point, my liquid thoughts were pointless, falling out of my fishnet skull. I don’t even know what happened. Nothing broke, no voice cracks, barely any missed beats; but I just couldn’t feel it. To be honest, I couldn’t feel anything. Maybe its the cold, or maybe its just me, but no matter what, I’m going to lose it. My breaths were getting shorter, and all my thoughts were loose frays. Within seconds, I lost my legs. I was sprinting toward the school, the cold night sliding past my cheeks. As I shot through the door, I grabbed the first thing I could find; a blue, plastic chair. Once it sat in my hands, I ran out the door with it, sprinting into the night. As I ran, I looked for a target, something to destroy or conquer or anything. When I hit the barbed wire fence, I tossed the chair into the sky like a fallen star; flying to its rightful place. When it flew into the car lot and hit the bus window, I awed at its beauty. There it was, sitting again on the ground, perfectly still; but now surrounded by broken glass. I smiled. I smiled so wide it hurt. Behind me, I heard sirens; they whaled like a skipping record, ripping through the night. They were miles away, probably going to another kid like me, just blowing off steam. Either way; I ran. Off again I thawed into the night, my energy pouring out of the stream I had become. The pavement was not giving way to my feet slapping against it; pounding myself into its foundation. Yet, I still ran. When I turned the corner, I saw the light of the football field reflect on the road. As I ran toward it, I noticed its hollowness. Nobody was in sight; but why were all the lights on? Appalled, I walked up to the top of the bleachers and gazed down. It was then that I realized that the second something is alone; true power is revealed. The football field was gigantic, but so quiet and calm, the wind collapsing to its feet behind me. All the animals and creatures of the night dare not even come within inches of its might, and even I was quivering at the sight of the solemn concrete. It was too perfect; and with that I reached in my back pocket and held my water bottle. With a swift movement, I threw the bottle toward the 50 and watched it twirled down to its death. Now, it was weak, it’s mighty diminished into an average dump. Satisfied, I walked back into the night, happy for a brief moment.

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PJD17 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 9, 2011 at 6:41 am
good work keep it up  could you please check out and comment on my story Manso's Shame i would really appreciate the feedback  just type in Manso's for some reason if you type in the full title it doesnt come up
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