Lost -part 3-Mikka’s View Part 3 I stopped screaming when the person that was reflected in the water covered my mouth. I shut my eyes and breathed hard on the hand. The hand came off my mouth and I turned around to see this blonde hair boy looking at me confused. He was wearing shorts and a blue T-shirt. I starred at him for a minute and said, “I’m not alone.” He smiled at my warmly, “I guess not.” I smiled back at him and he helped me get to my feet. “So are you lost here too?” I asked.Lost -part 3-
“Yea, I have been here for days. The guy in black told me I have to wait here for someone… are you the someone?” I
Lost -part 2-~Mikka’s view Part 2~Lost -part 2-
As I lay in the desert, the sand continued to drift across the desert. The man looked down opon me and smiled. His smiled was comforting like I could trust him. I was so amazed by my surroundings, and the questions piled in my head. I was confused about the whole situation. My hair dangled in my face back and forth as the wind blew past me. My hands were burning from the sand and it was not the best day to pick the colour back to wear. I looked at him again.
“Why am I here?”
“I cannot tell you that my child, for I am not the ruler of the ‘land of ashes’.” The man said.
Lost, journal 1LostLost, journal 1
Mikka’s Journal 1
Even though Mikka Wickerdale was only 16 with long brown hair, she though that she had heard whispers in her head. She was sitting in the classroom when she was hearing them. They were saying “nobody cares, nobody cares… kill the innocence” she was flipping through her binder as she was looking for a blank piece to write on for the lesson. The teacher Miss Richards was explaining different kinds of poetry but then everything blanked out, like she could not hear Miss Richards at all, only a high ringing sound, and again, the voices. She was clinging her binder and her heart beat faster and
update!!
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even though i like My Sitar
i still say.....
BURN BABY
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its okay. i dont bite...
...wait thats a lie.
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its okay. i dont bite...
...wait thats a lie.
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