DISCLAIMER: You know the song, sing a long! *sings, wonderfully, the author
might add!* I don't own anything! LAAAAALAAALAAAA!
It was a Tuesday, she remembered that much. She had walked to her second class, outfit perfect, every blonde hair in place. The fingernails that clicked quietly on her books were flawlessly manicured. She had barely opened the door when it happened. It went off in the classroom to her left. The class in that room had been annihilated. If she had been in the classroom, she would have been much worse off. Since she had two walls in between it and herself, she was safer. Still, she had been thrown backward, into a doorway, where she had been showered with a minimal amount of debris. She was cut and bruised, her smooth, immaculate skin now bloody, blue and black. Her eyes were shut and she covered her head and neck, trying to protect them. Her ears rang so loud, she thought she was coming home form and endless rock concert, at which she had been standing directly next to booming speakers. The sound had probably permanently damaged her ear drums. Blood was oozing from a gash on her forehead. She felt a strange pang from her left wrist, and realized a piece of shrapnel was buried deep in her hand. It was at least six inches, almost all the way through her palm. She tried to scream, but as she opened her throat, no sound came. She had no voice for some reason. Tears came quickly now that she realized along with no voice, there was no movement left in her legs. She could barely move her upper body, and her legs were perpetually still. She began to cough, due to the smoke pouring out from where her English class was. Her eyes and throat stung as a series of smaller, less dense explosions came from roughly the same spots. She lie there, immobile, and listened to the wailing sirens or fire trucks, police cars, and various other emergency vehicles. As a seventh bomb went off, she felt her self try to jump, but not moving. Yet another piece of wreckage hit her head. After this, she could not see straight, much less call out to the people searching for more victims. She could see their black and yellow uniforms, but all was a blur. She squinted and tried to lift her right arm, which was immobilized by a heavy piece of a former wall. She failed and coughed, but still no one saw or heard her. Only fragments of wall were left, eerily lit by blown out windows. She could not see to the outside, but only the people rushing through the halls. She heard the faint shouts of a news reporter, trying to be heard over the barks of the EMTs and emergency services. She felt so helpless, not being able to be saved. No one knew where she was or if she was safe. She ached all over and could scarcely breath. She saw someone near to her, nearer than anyone else had been. A miniscule blast came from farther away than the others, and the figure ducked and covered. She began to cough as loudly as she could, hoping to gain some attention. The figure snapped his or her head back and forth, trying to find the source of the noise. It approached the seriously injured blonde sophomore, but could not find her if his life depended on it. She tried, but the figure turned around and began to walk the other way. Another explosion erupted, larger and more powerful, shaking the rubble and blasting the figure off its feet. The figure flew a few feet and hit a wall. A loud, throaty grunt emerged after only a few seconds. The figure rose, with a wounded arm, that was bleeding endlessly. It stumbled away, leaving the dust, ash, and blood covered girl where she was. She closed her eyes, waiting for something else to happen. She stopped after a bit, when nothing happened. She thought this might be the end of the attack, when another large explosion rattled her surroundings, this time creating small sparks. Seconds later, it caught to something else, creating a horrible burning smell. If she had had the strength, she would have whimpered, but as her consciousness wavered, she could not waste the smallest amount of energy, even for something that simple. With the fire feet away, she could only hope and pray that she would survive.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: A/N: So who is this mysterious figure? And who set the bombs? Better yet, who is the girl? Yes, actually, it could be more than one character, to you skeptics. Pbtah! Anyway, the main question is: will our girl survive? Will someone find her? Will she find out who set the bombs and who they meant to hurt? Find out soon.. Hehehehe! REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED!
It was a Tuesday, she remembered that much. She had walked to her second class, outfit perfect, every blonde hair in place. The fingernails that clicked quietly on her books were flawlessly manicured. She had barely opened the door when it happened. It went off in the classroom to her left. The class in that room had been annihilated. If she had been in the classroom, she would have been much worse off. Since she had two walls in between it and herself, she was safer. Still, she had been thrown backward, into a doorway, where she had been showered with a minimal amount of debris. She was cut and bruised, her smooth, immaculate skin now bloody, blue and black. Her eyes were shut and she covered her head and neck, trying to protect them. Her ears rang so loud, she thought she was coming home form and endless rock concert, at which she had been standing directly next to booming speakers. The sound had probably permanently damaged her ear drums. Blood was oozing from a gash on her forehead. She felt a strange pang from her left wrist, and realized a piece of shrapnel was buried deep in her hand. It was at least six inches, almost all the way through her palm. She tried to scream, but as she opened her throat, no sound came. She had no voice for some reason. Tears came quickly now that she realized along with no voice, there was no movement left in her legs. She could barely move her upper body, and her legs were perpetually still. She began to cough, due to the smoke pouring out from where her English class was. Her eyes and throat stung as a series of smaller, less dense explosions came from roughly the same spots. She lie there, immobile, and listened to the wailing sirens or fire trucks, police cars, and various other emergency vehicles. As a seventh bomb went off, she felt her self try to jump, but not moving. Yet another piece of wreckage hit her head. After this, she could not see straight, much less call out to the people searching for more victims. She could see their black and yellow uniforms, but all was a blur. She squinted and tried to lift her right arm, which was immobilized by a heavy piece of a former wall. She failed and coughed, but still no one saw or heard her. Only fragments of wall were left, eerily lit by blown out windows. She could not see to the outside, but only the people rushing through the halls. She heard the faint shouts of a news reporter, trying to be heard over the barks of the EMTs and emergency services. She felt so helpless, not being able to be saved. No one knew where she was or if she was safe. She ached all over and could scarcely breath. She saw someone near to her, nearer than anyone else had been. A miniscule blast came from farther away than the others, and the figure ducked and covered. She began to cough as loudly as she could, hoping to gain some attention. The figure snapped his or her head back and forth, trying to find the source of the noise. It approached the seriously injured blonde sophomore, but could not find her if his life depended on it. She tried, but the figure turned around and began to walk the other way. Another explosion erupted, larger and more powerful, shaking the rubble and blasting the figure off its feet. The figure flew a few feet and hit a wall. A loud, throaty grunt emerged after only a few seconds. The figure rose, with a wounded arm, that was bleeding endlessly. It stumbled away, leaving the dust, ash, and blood covered girl where she was. She closed her eyes, waiting for something else to happen. She stopped after a bit, when nothing happened. She thought this might be the end of the attack, when another large explosion rattled her surroundings, this time creating small sparks. Seconds later, it caught to something else, creating a horrible burning smell. If she had had the strength, she would have whimpered, but as her consciousness wavered, she could not waste the smallest amount of energy, even for something that simple. With the fire feet away, she could only hope and pray that she would survive.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: :::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: A/N: So who is this mysterious figure? And who set the bombs? Better yet, who is the girl? Yes, actually, it could be more than one character, to you skeptics. Pbtah! Anyway, the main question is: will our girl survive? Will someone find her? Will she find out who set the bombs and who they meant to hurt? Find out soon.. Hehehehe! REVIEWS ARE APPRECIATED!