Post by April Whitt. on Feb 27, 2007 11:39:07 GMT 10
April sat on the shore of the Black Lake, in her black skinny jeans and over sized sweatshirt. She took a note book out of her messenger's bag along with a pen. She still hadn't talked to very many people after her parents had died, not even her siblings. It's not like she didn't want to, she just couldn't. It was like there was something enabling her from saying anything about the death of her parents. She sighed softly to herself, it's not like anyone was around to hear her anyways, as she opened her note book to the first blank page.
She began to write a few things down, scribbling down words furiously, as if there were no tomorrow. Writing. That's all she seemed to do lately, write and play the piano, no singing anymore, once again it was like her voice had been snatched away whenever she wanted to sing. She had given up. Nothing was ever worth any effort anymore, nothing except her writing. Writing. Lyrics mostly, maybe short stories.. sometimes. Nothing of any importance to anyone but her.
Still sitting on the shore alone, it was quiet, for once. But she was positive that it wouldn't last very long. Nothing good ever did. She continued to write very random lyrics down in her notebook, maybe it would turn into a song... That was all she could hope for. But considering everything that had ever happened to her, she knew nothing good, or right ever happened to her. So she just sat there, she stopped writing for a few minutes as she looked out at the Black Lake, with all it's creatures swimming about.
She began to write a few things down, scribbling down words furiously, as if there were no tomorrow. Writing. That's all she seemed to do lately, write and play the piano, no singing anymore, once again it was like her voice had been snatched away whenever she wanted to sing. She had given up. Nothing was ever worth any effort anymore, nothing except her writing. Writing. Lyrics mostly, maybe short stories.. sometimes. Nothing of any importance to anyone but her.
Still sitting on the shore alone, it was quiet, for once. But she was positive that it wouldn't last very long. Nothing good ever did. She continued to write very random lyrics down in her notebook, maybe it would turn into a song... That was all she could hope for. But considering everything that had ever happened to her, she knew nothing good, or right ever happened to her. So she just sat there, she stopped writing for a few minutes as she looked out at the Black Lake, with all it's creatures swimming about.
