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Young Writers Society


St. Lucians Academy For Troubled Teens (Open/Accepting)



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Fri Jan 24, 2014 10:36 pm
Apricity says...



[spoiler]Don't be sorry, xD. You can discuss these things in the DT or in the chat bar with me or anyone else on here.[\spoiler]

It felt good, really good actually. Being in the open, being in the air. Is been a while since I had a chance to practice my skills but even now, six months later, mt skills didn't get rusty. I didn't expect anything less, anyways.

I noticed there was a guy or maybe a girl that sat by one of the benches, he seemed to be sketching something. Not mr, for sure. Why the heck, would anyone want to draw me. Sheathing the knife, I made a sharp turn right before I reached the dorms havingnspottede the cafeteria not far off.

"Food." I grinned, and broke in a fast jog.
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'And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.' ― Friedrich Nietzsche

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It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats—the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill —The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it—and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another.
— JRR Tolkien