Come on in, the Water's Fine!{OPEN}
Oct 9, 2011 9:53:14 GMT -5
Post by lyss on Oct 9, 2011 9:53:14 GMT -5
Nereida {Marina Ricardo}
Come on in, the water's
I slump against a tree, moaning in pain. I have been running for what has to be at least an hour. I was running from another person who claims that they would love to train me. I don't want to train; I don't care that I live in a Career district. Training to kill people is not my thing. I've always wanted to use my knives though. I want to feel the cool handle, the thin blade. Maybe if I actually had some practice, I would fall into the traps of training. The only thing that holds me back is blood.
I hate the look of it, the feel of it, the smell of it. I hate every single thing about it. I hate how it can touch everything in its path. Once, I pricked my finger on something, and I went over to the sink to wash it off. The sink was filling itself with water, for my mother was planning to wash the dishes soon. A small, single drop fell into the water, breaking the surface, coloring it all red. I stood there, fascinated and horrified at the same time. I watched as more and more drops fell into the water, darkening the color. A smell rose from the water, smelling somewhat like rust. I ran outside for fresh air, and, I admit it, I spewed out every molecule of food in my stomach.
I'm glad that it was after school when I ran, since I have a backpack full of things with me. I unzip the main area, searching for water. I pull out a small water bottle, uncap it, and drizzle some over my face before gulping it all down. I shove the empty bottle back into my backpack and look to see what else I have in there. I find a whole bundle of knives, at least twenty, held together by a small belt of leather. Where did these come from? I wonder. I pull them out, for they might be useful in case I run into somebody on my way back. I zip my backpack, and cringe at how loud it is. Somebody could be near, and I just gave my position away.
My suspicion is confirmed when I hear a twig snap. I turn my head in the direction of the sound, eyes wide. I'm perfect prey for an enemy right now. I'm weak, helpless; I've never used a weapon before. I scramble to my feet and rip a knife from the bundle. I raise it over my head, ready to throw it at my enemy.