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Monsoon

The cold blizzard feel air rushes through my pale white window pane. All my covers are at the end of my bed and im curled up in a sidewards ball cold and alone. I don't move, i don't shiver. i just sit there like a cat waiting for something to happen and in a way dying.

Dying of my own self depression. The wall i stare at draws a picture. A picture of me just sitting, and watching my life breaking into pieces. Creaks, i can hear coming from the steps. Creak, crack it goes until it reaches my door. The knob struggles it self open and an oval shaped head plops in. My mom. She gently lips the words "you okay, honey?" and walks away.


Hours later it turns to night time and that's when i get up and move. I move slowly and timidly. More afraid than ever. the door is open and i try to step out but my leg retreats back and i wonder. " why am i so scared"





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BreeTayler This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 14, 2011 at 11:35 pm
I agree with the other two.. i think it's good. but i think it could be better as a poem. I like your writing style but.. I really think it would enhance this story if you did decide to change a few words around and even take a few, unnecessary ones. like "hours later it turns to night time".. instead you could say "hours later it turns to night" Only the word the is removed but yet it sounds so much powerful than the other... something to think about:)
 
sleeplessdreamer said...
Apr. 7, 2010 at 2:01 pm

Um... I don't really know what to think about this. I think if you changed some of the words around you could make it a poem and it would rock.... Not really a story per se.

 

 
BrooklynnBlue said...
Oct. 1, 2009 at 12:08 am
This is really good, but kinda strange, strange in a good way:)
 
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