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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1419355-Silently-lost--part-1
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Young Adult · #1419355
She has forgotten everything, is picked up off the road (includes vampires)
What happened the past few hours beneath the moon light of this cold mysterious night? Where am I? The stars above, they glare at me, their shine is tantalizing yet scolding me all at once. Where are my tattered feet taking me? The gravel which I walk upon on this earth side of this unknown road hurts, but for some reason it does not compare to a pain I cannot remember. There is a quiet emptiness of this night; the usual of grasshoppers and frogs is missing from the sounds I hear. It's making me fear for myself, myself.
Who am I? These arms at my sides, they look frail under the blue light of this dark night. What is my name? There is not a stir of nature's music as I patter on down this road. Not a car coming? Not a familiar light glimpse of a neighboring house. This feeling I enjoy in a way, this unattached feeling that there is not a care in the world. What do I care about?
Who am I? What do I look like? What is my name? Where am I going? Where did I come from? Everything is so bright! Wait! Where is it coming from? The darkness! Where did it go? My knees are on the gravel! Why? This pain is intensifying my eyes! Why this pain! Why!? What's this noise I hear? Unfamiliar as it is, it's warm.  Am I reaching my arms out? It hurts to move them!
What is touching me? Hands are grasping my arms! There is a person here?  Get away from me! It hurts!
This is a voice I hear! The light! Turn it off!! Turn it off! Please!
How many seconds have past? The comfortable shade of the night is covering my stinging eyes. I am enclosed by something.  It's warm, very warm, don't let go. What is it? My fingers are squeezing on to some cloth. Is it that person? My savior? That voice, that voice is back. It means no harm... Or I hope.
I lift my head up feeling my vision clear up again. I am making out a face, very beautiful white skin, yellow eyes, and jet black hair fall ever so slightly over the forehead. Such a defined face, it must be a man. He looks so young... yet wise. Those eyes are my savior... He is so warm. My cheeks are cold, maybe if I press them against his warm chest...
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