WORD
Letter 1-
Katie was your average young woman. She was interested in music, school, friends and family and several typical activities as well as possessing a somewhat explosive and selfish, intelligent and very responsible personality. In other words, she was a little bit of everything. If I'm not painting a clear description of her, allow me then to be much more blunt and clearer. If she had to be a painting of sorts, she'd be one with soft, but sharply defined colors that would be appropriate for all ages to watch, kind of like a fruit bowl or a flower vase from a talented impressionist artist.
One day, as she walked through the streets of her university, she pondered the meaning of life. She realized then, that everything came down to two things: her loved ones, and her future. If she wanted to live well, and help those she loved live well, she had to make several serious decisions in the present that would protect her future. As usual, after two seconds of deep thought and soul searching, her mind wandered off to more alluring pastures, where James Franco, shirtless, declared his undying love to her.
Suddenly Katie felt very cold; the stars in the sky became utterly visible and crickets began chirping noisily. Irritated, Katie reached for her ridiculously pink cell phone and warily looked at the time. Surprise ran free though her mind as she realized it was two in the morning. How could it be? She was sure it had been three in the afternoon the last time she checked the time, which was during her James Franco fantasy. Had James Franco really distracted her that much?
As fast as her mind allowed her body, Katie turned back on her heel to walk back home, only to be caught by surprise again. School was nowhere to be found. In fact, there were no houses around her, only snow. Instead of shock, pure horror swam through Katie's veins. Everything began spinning out of control, thoughts of where she should be and where she was, time, and finally her actual location began spinning around her. And finally her head hit the ground.
Letter 2-
In a spacious white military room possessing three large windows decorated with expensive blue velvet curtains, facing the largest window in the room, sitting behind a desk literally buried in paperwork, a man with midnight black hair and dark blue eyes could be easily spotted as he thoughtfully looked outside. He was a handsome man of medium height, and soft features, with the remarkable exception of his magnificent eyes and his sharp lips, which gave him an arrogant expression. In other words, Leonardo Da Vinci could have painted this man's eloquent features for all anybody knew.
Sitting quietly in his chair he thought of the past, present and future. He was a new man, an old man, wise and an idiot. When he was younger, seeing injustice had given him strength to battle for righteousness. Eventually he realized he'd need more that good will to make the world right. He'd need true loyal friends, perseverance, but above all, almost literally, balls of steel. Unfortunately, it took the loss of his best friend, two young men he'd secretly sworn to protect, and his left eye to realize the required depth of his commitment.
His right hand, a blonde of with a sharp personality, had taken a vacation for a few weeks after being injured in battle. As he remembered her face he realized with tremendous clarity that he missed her. He was going to be a little stingy and would annoy her once she came back. Just because it'd be terribly awkward if he'd ever start behaving like a gentleman. As usual, after two seconds of pondering, colonel Mustang's mind wandered off to greener pastures where all women in the country wore tiny mini-skirts after he became fuhrer.
After coming down to earth from his day dream, he began to examine the picture the window allowed him to see. Snowflakes softly fell upon the ground and the landscape looked fairly peaceful, except for some stupid lump in the middle of the landscape. That stupid lump screwed the picture with it's yellow hair…
Yellow hair? Lumps don't simply have yellow hair. They don't breathe either…
Mustang sprang for his desk, towards the door, ready to save whoever was lying outside nearly dead. He'd be there for whoever it was. As he ran out of the room, from the corner of his right eye Mustang saw Havoc and Breda, two of his closest lieutenants.
"Havoc, Breda, Follow me!" He commanded.
And without a word, Havoc and Breda followed Mustang.