Young Writers Society

Chapter three

She stood up, her heart acing; but yet it wasn’t there.
She looked in the mirror, and couldn't’t help to think she was beautiful.
Her long black hair, flowing down to her elbows,
and her huge brown eyes reflecting at her self.
She looked down her white gown and noticed she had a rose jabbed where her heart was.
”You’ve got thirteen years to find away out, when you do, let me know” the men in black say, but they begin to laugh.
Do they mean what there saying?
Do they mean there’s no way out?
She begins to feel dizzy, and falls to the grounds.
Her eyes closed tight, and her rose bleed a little.
Her eyes crying to the moonlight, and her soul sobbing to the sea.

”Isabelle dear, it’s time to get up, the sun is shunning and the clouds are clear.”
”Mother? Is that you? Oh mother I’m so happy”
She opens her eyes hoping to see her mother’s gentile appearance, but it was just another dream.
Down the hall Isabelle heard screaming, she ran over to the noise.
"my heart hurts, help me! help me"