Post by Fel Touu on Jan 30, 2011 15:24:40 GMT -5
I edited my book, finally, and I decided to put up some of the beginning. Enjoy
I watch as my house burns down. The one next to it catches fire too. I’m glad that it’s empty. Smoke that is so black it almost looks green billows up into the sky. In my hands I hold the only things I have left, a grey jacket with my wallet in the right pocket, my ipod, and my journal. I put on the jacket. Right, I should have enough to be able to live on my own for a few days.
It’s crazy how few people notice a row of burning houses. There must be about five houses on fire and only three people have come out to see what’s happened. One of them is just standing on the curb, staring at the flames, and one is trying to salvage a pile of junk from a house that is only partially lit. The last one is a little girl who comes up to me.
“What happened?” She asks. She a tiny little girl with the lightest blond hair I’ve ever seen. She’s almost an angel cliché with her blue eyes and pale skin.
“I dunno, my house is kind of on fire.”
The little girl glances at the house, which looks like all seven levels of hell. “Oh.” She stares down at her hand, and I realize she’s drawing a mouse on the back of her hand. I sit down on the sidewalk, not really sure where else to go, playing absently with my ipod. “Where are you gonna go?”
I shrug. “Pretty much everyone is gone, I guess I’ll just find an empty house to stay in.” The little girl stares at me like I’ve got three heads.
“I would hate living in a strange house.” She grumbles vehemently. She glances up from the mice drawings to look at me. I guess I don’t look interesting enough because she stands up and walks away. She doesn’t even say goodbye.
I want to call my friend Lena, but when I search my pockets for my phone I realize that I had left it to charge in the kitchen. Damn. For a moment I actually consider running in through the door real quick and grabbing it. I need a phone, right? I even get up to go back in. Maybe I can grab some of my books…
The sad thing is that I probably would have gone in and gotten myself killed, if the whole second floor hadn’t exploded. Almost immediately I sit back down, so it looks like I did some kind of weird hop. Pieces of wood rain down on the street, a large piece of plaster nearly hitting the kid with the pile of junk. I guess all of my books are gone.
Suddenly I feel kind of dizzy. I put my head between my knees, closing my eyes. I don’t want to see my house burning anymore. I can’t imagine how I’ll tell my parents that their house burned down. My mom is crazy about the photo albums she’s kept since she got married to my father; she’ll be so devastated that they’re gone. Imagine, getting back from a war and finding your house burned down, the whole block burned down. Guilt eats me up, even though I wasn’t the one who started the fire.
I watch as my house burns down. The one next to it catches fire too. I’m glad that it’s empty. Smoke that is so black it almost looks green billows up into the sky. In my hands I hold the only things I have left, a grey jacket with my wallet in the right pocket, my ipod, and my journal. I put on the jacket. Right, I should have enough to be able to live on my own for a few days.
It’s crazy how few people notice a row of burning houses. There must be about five houses on fire and only three people have come out to see what’s happened. One of them is just standing on the curb, staring at the flames, and one is trying to salvage a pile of junk from a house that is only partially lit. The last one is a little girl who comes up to me.
“What happened?” She asks. She a tiny little girl with the lightest blond hair I’ve ever seen. She’s almost an angel cliché with her blue eyes and pale skin.
“I dunno, my house is kind of on fire.”
The little girl glances at the house, which looks like all seven levels of hell. “Oh.” She stares down at her hand, and I realize she’s drawing a mouse on the back of her hand. I sit down on the sidewalk, not really sure where else to go, playing absently with my ipod. “Where are you gonna go?”
I shrug. “Pretty much everyone is gone, I guess I’ll just find an empty house to stay in.” The little girl stares at me like I’ve got three heads.
“I would hate living in a strange house.” She grumbles vehemently. She glances up from the mice drawings to look at me. I guess I don’t look interesting enough because she stands up and walks away. She doesn’t even say goodbye.
I want to call my friend Lena, but when I search my pockets for my phone I realize that I had left it to charge in the kitchen. Damn. For a moment I actually consider running in through the door real quick and grabbing it. I need a phone, right? I even get up to go back in. Maybe I can grab some of my books…
The sad thing is that I probably would have gone in and gotten myself killed, if the whole second floor hadn’t exploded. Almost immediately I sit back down, so it looks like I did some kind of weird hop. Pieces of wood rain down on the street, a large piece of plaster nearly hitting the kid with the pile of junk. I guess all of my books are gone.
Suddenly I feel kind of dizzy. I put my head between my knees, closing my eyes. I don’t want to see my house burning anymore. I can’t imagine how I’ll tell my parents that their house burned down. My mom is crazy about the photo albums she’s kept since she got married to my father; she’ll be so devastated that they’re gone. Imagine, getting back from a war and finding your house burned down, the whole block burned down. Guilt eats me up, even though I wasn’t the one who started the fire.
