This is the next part of the short story!!! While it may not seem to pertain to the first, it will later.... Give it time, kiddies. Also, I'm not entirely sure whether or not to write this section in first or third person, so if you guys have any ideas or comments, please do tell. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter Two: Headlines I run through the forest, tears streaming down my face. The black boots I wear are torn, jumping, the stray branches mark my feet in blood, but I push myself faster. Another person appears between the trees, the mist concealing them as they dash across the forest floor. I glance back and see the man running, sadness written on his face. "Yvvy, please, slow down!" he says. "No no no" I say, worry making my only run faster. The branches whip at me as I flee, placing bloody scratches on my face and arms. Suddenly the forest clears. A cliff. The land digs into my heels as I try to stop skidding, sending me tumbling down the cliff side. I'm so close, so very very close. Frantically, grabbing the ledge, my fingers digging into the rock, blood dripping down the stone. "Loran!" I'm screaming, regretful, sad. The sound of scuffling echoes over the ledge, and I slide down farther. "Hold on!" he shouts, leaning over the rock. He looks desperate, eyes narrowed, shiny with tears. He stretches and grasps my hand, grunting as he lifts me up, clutching at the rocks to keep himself steady. Sweat drips down his brow from the exertion. I reach the top and fall to the ground, staring at my hands, coated in blood. My blood, covering my body, drenching my clothes and hair. "Oh, Yvvy..." he whispers, "Your hands..." +++ She's lying on the hospital bed, moonlight filters through the blinds; softly illuminating her black hair and pale skin. She's sleeping and her hands are bandaged, cuts over her arms. I'm sitting in the chair beside her, watching her. I'm... crying... and I lean over to stroke her hair, smoothing it away from her face, replaying memories. "I'm so glad I found you," I whisper. A newspaper lies on the wooden table beside the bed. "FATEFUL TEEN ATTEMPTS TO JUMP OFF BRIDGE" ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Soon all will be revealed. This is what it looks like in my mind.
