Tortured past
Bonnie's little feet scampered down the hallway. She clutched lovingly to her frail teddy with creamy brown fur, and round black eyes. Little Bonnie trotted down the stairs, the plush threads of the carpet tickled her little eight-year-old toes. The little sprite turned the corner into her living room; her mom and dad were watching the news, her kitten, Lingo played inside its wicker house. Bonnie sighed and gathered her voice, than bolted towards her unsuspecting father and wrapped her little arms around his neck. "Im going to bed daddy, I love you." She piped into his ear and did the same for her mommy. Again her little legs carried her up the steps and into her room, under the covers and finally into the dreaming realm where bonnie slept. Her father, who smokes prince Ricky cigars, fell asleep on the couch that night, the cigar, which was still lit, fell and rolled onto the carpet by the stairs, the smoldering ashes ignited the carpet threads. Smoke wafted through the air, as the tiny embers became something more, a flame. Soon there carpet by the stairs was on fire, Fire that cracked at the wood and licked at the air. Bonnie's parents could not get to her room until the fire truck came screaming down the street. To little Bonnie, she thought it was a dream, that the smoke and screams were just part of the nightmares that play any child at night. Little Bonnie forgot all the things they taught her in school. She sat upright, and threw the covers off her bed. The smoke was thick and made her cry, she ran to her door, scorching her hand on the brass doorknob. The fireman called to the little girl, her dark luscious hair sooty and her lungs full of smoke, she screamed and staggered to him at the window. The fireman had his arms ready to grab her, but the roof creaked, the fire spread up into the roof and was above Bonnie's room. The ceiling cried as little bonnie ducked in a flash of fire and tears. Eight years later little bonnie isn't so little anymore, yet she makes herself little and undetermined. Her once luscious hair is greasy and it drapes her once sparkly brown eyes. The layers of clothed and jackets cover her skin, covering her smattered, scared back. Her once soft pale flesh is bumped and rippled in a mass of scars over her back and arms. She thinks back to this, this story, this tragic tale of a girl's departure of childhood, her beauty, sparkle and love has burned up along with her tortured past.
------------------------------------------------------------------ This is my first, a little ugh but tell me what u think!
Bonnie's little feet scampered down the hallway. She clutched lovingly to her frail teddy with creamy brown fur, and round black eyes. Little Bonnie trotted down the stairs, the plush threads of the carpet tickled her little eight-year-old toes. The little sprite turned the corner into her living room; her mom and dad were watching the news, her kitten, Lingo played inside its wicker house. Bonnie sighed and gathered her voice, than bolted towards her unsuspecting father and wrapped her little arms around his neck. "Im going to bed daddy, I love you." She piped into his ear and did the same for her mommy. Again her little legs carried her up the steps and into her room, under the covers and finally into the dreaming realm where bonnie slept. Her father, who smokes prince Ricky cigars, fell asleep on the couch that night, the cigar, which was still lit, fell and rolled onto the carpet by the stairs, the smoldering ashes ignited the carpet threads. Smoke wafted through the air, as the tiny embers became something more, a flame. Soon there carpet by the stairs was on fire, Fire that cracked at the wood and licked at the air. Bonnie's parents could not get to her room until the fire truck came screaming down the street. To little Bonnie, she thought it was a dream, that the smoke and screams were just part of the nightmares that play any child at night. Little Bonnie forgot all the things they taught her in school. She sat upright, and threw the covers off her bed. The smoke was thick and made her cry, she ran to her door, scorching her hand on the brass doorknob. The fireman called to the little girl, her dark luscious hair sooty and her lungs full of smoke, she screamed and staggered to him at the window. The fireman had his arms ready to grab her, but the roof creaked, the fire spread up into the roof and was above Bonnie's room. The ceiling cried as little bonnie ducked in a flash of fire and tears. Eight years later little bonnie isn't so little anymore, yet she makes herself little and undetermined. Her once luscious hair is greasy and it drapes her once sparkly brown eyes. The layers of clothed and jackets cover her skin, covering her smattered, scared back. Her once soft pale flesh is bumped and rippled in a mass of scars over her back and arms. She thinks back to this, this story, this tragic tale of a girl's departure of childhood, her beauty, sparkle and love has burned up along with her tortured past.
------------------------------------------------------------------ This is my first, a little ugh but tell me what u think!