I'm trying to raped fire these chapters!
Chappie 8!
Dear Diary,
just another day. The letter, almost like burning a hole in my pocket. Excuse my grammar, my mind is in to much of a rush. How long is it gonna take to just tell then? The count done is 1 week. Most of all, how do I tell HIM? My Tar-Tar. I feel so strange when ever he is around.
Xoxox
Purin
'what is it with today and wind?' thought the light yellow monkey girl. The was sitting on the swings, trying to look small. Her mind was a hurricane. The breeze rippled threw her hair, blowing it all over her face.
'The longer I wait, the more hurt my friends will be. But, what will they say? Will they hate me for...' she stopped there. Purin didn't need to remind her self. If she had a choice, she would have said no in a nanosecond. Unfortunately, that's not the case.
She took out the cream paper out of her pocket. Oh, how she wanted to rip it. Almost crushing the delicate parchment from the mountins.
Before Purin knew what was happening, the same wind was blowing around and around her. Tears slid away, escaping into the wind. The rush was sweeping her off her feet...
blackness...
An echo...
No, a voice...
A name...
Over and over...
"PURIN!" Tart yelled. Her body slumped on the ground, he ran over from the courts. Despite the protests from his game-mates, the little alien boy ran with all of his might. He was partly proud that he remembered not to fly.
When he reached her, there was already a crowd. Tart pushed through. He knelt down next to her. As gently as his trembling hands could, Tart placed Purin's head on his lap, yelling
"Some idiot go get a teacher!"
Tart realized that Purin was clutching a piece of paper. He released it from her grip, putting it in his pocket to give to her later.
Ryou was contacted, and was coming over as soon as he could get someone to cover for him at the café.
Tart was waiting out side the nurses office, not wanting to disturb Purin. It turns out she fainted out of stress. That's what the nurse said. Some how Tart doubted that. A care free half-monkey child, and she has stress? Not likely.
Then he remembered the paper...'no! I must not...but I'm her closest friend...she would want me to read it...' as curiosity took over personal space, Tart grabbed the paper, unfolded it and red it.
A gasp.
A pain.
A doubt.
I no, not long at all, but the next chappie will be up tomorrow. Promise.