here is my story i write in my English lesson:
"My heart stopped as I stood upon the tall skyscraper gazing wretchedly at the world below me. The tiny starlight twinkles in the buildings left, right and centre of me only made my heart sink deeper into my soul reminding me all that was fake in my life – the buildings, the machines…even the love.
If only someone was there to bring me back – to give me meaning and to fill my life with a new hope that would run eagerly through my veins lifting me with new wings off the ground and with a new shining light!
Only it isn’t like that – not like that at all.
Tears glistened on my cheeks, falling slowly to the floor miles below me. Once again I overlooked the rim of this artificial life, clenching my fists so tightly that small drops of darkened blood smothered my hands.
This rage within me, so energetic and lively, vexed me immensely. Death would not free the anger but only allow it to encase me even more and send me plummeting down to hell.
Hastily I turned my back on the black abyss I longed to fall into. Fearing my own desires, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small com-link – the newest rebel gadget on the black market – hoping it would give me a sense of hope.
“Captain!” A loud, hyper voice echoed. “Where are you? Do you need help? I’ve been calling for hours.”
“Sorry Hoshi,” In replied quietly. “I was thinking.” A hard ferocious wind blew me slightly making m sway in a hypnotic rhythm. My words sounded hollow – empty. A black void of nothing reached into my throat ripping me of any capable way of expressing myself.
“Kenji will be fine…” Hoshi mumbled sadly. Even she was doubtful of any hope that he was still alive after all this time.
I nodded, not considering that Hoshi could not see me. Her awkward and irritated breaths at my silence gave no comfort to me but a long intense feeling of longing for the past…
“Maybe…” I muttered. “I’ll be back soon Hoshi – keep the ship going. We’re leaving as soon as I get there.”
A formal “Roger that!” was the only reply and then all was silent. I gazed back out at the brightly lit jungle. Out of my pocket I pulled out a dying rose – its edges brown, dry and ugly and its stem no longer the luscious green it used to be when I first held it in my hands. Like me it had given up trying to make most out of life and, like my heart, it had withered away to nothing.
Feeling only repulsive hate I lunged the rose over the edge of the building and down to the tedious lives of the beings below. I did not care to watch it fall.
“I’m sorry fair flower,” I whispered letting a single tear fall down my face. “For if it was not you, It would have been me.""
Want to read any more? want me to write anymore. Tell me your views oh great......people....
