A lonesome balloon floated down steadily in the dark of night. Its bright yellow exterior glowing brightly against the dreary town. The owner of the balloon was high above, watching it from the roof of a tower that disappeared in the clouds high above the tops of the other buildings around. She prayed with all her heart someone would find it. Her tears were swept away in the wind, and her sobs were lost in the clouds. She watched the balloon until it was no longer visible, before ducking back into the top room of the tower.
“What is that?” Jasper whispered under his breath. He instantly regretted it, and glanced around to make sure no Sarakas were lurking around. Ever since the Sarakas took over his town, the color and life had been sucked from everything. Children, much like himself, were forced to live on their own because their parents had been taken away. The streets no longer smelled of the bakeries that used to line them. The buildings had been stripped of their brightness and were painted black or gray. No one spoke unless absolutely necessary, and if they did, it was no louder than a whisper. Everyone lived in fear of being taken away by the Sarakas. Kidnapping was not below the Sarakas. They had taken the princess of his town, Princess Lilly-Lynne, and then took over the town. A yellow balloon sat on the ground, wet with mildew, stuck in a bush. Seeing something so bright in such a dark town was shocking.
Jasper glanced around once again before hurriedly sneaking over to the bright yellow balloon, setting down the groceries, and snatching it up. He looked all around, making sure there was nothing important on it. He saw nothing, but noticed a scrap of paper lying inside. Writing could be seen scrawled on. Carefully, so as not to make a loud noise by popping it, he bit a tiny whole by the knot. The air began to flow out, and soon he had a piece of latex that fit under his shirt. After picking his bags up again, he set off to his house.
The wind was blowing hard, and it nipped at Jasper’s ears and nose. He tried to pull his coat tighter around himself, but the glass milk jug slipped out from a bag and fell to the floor. The sound of glass hitting pavement rang loud and clear throughout the silent town. His heart skipped a beat. He silently cursed under his breath, and then waited for a Saraka to show up. It wasn’t long before one appeared in the distance. He strolled up to Jasper, clearly irritated he had to go check on some kid. He looked at the groceries in Jasper’s hands, the broken milk bottle on the ground, then at Jasper. “What’d you do?” He asked. Jasper avoided his cold stare, and explained that it fell from his bag. The Saraka nodded.
“Clean it up,” He spat. Jasper almost protested, but realized that he could be arrested, or worse, and got on his knees and began to pluck up the glass. Glass is very sharp, and Jasper’s hands were bleeding badly by the time he was done. The Saraka pursed his lips at Jasper. Worried, he looked around, wondering if he missed a piece. He saw nothing.
“What’s that?” He demanded. Jasper hesitated.
“Glass,” He replied. The guard spit on his shoe.
“Don’t you get smart with me. That,” He motioned to his shirt.
Everyone knows shattered glass is sharp. Maybe change it to something like... "The tiny shards were hard to pick up, and Jasper's hands were bleeding badly by the time he was done."
