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Huskie's Unoriginal Stuff I like huskies and I hate bananas, but I do like to write and sometimes what I write is not very pertinent, but this sentence is a run-on one.


huskies4EVER
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Long Day...
And I'm tired. So yeah. But I'll be alright, so don't worry (who would worry?). I'm listening to semi-depressing music and my stomach hurts. lllOTZ

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qldnk20JpaM

But like I always say: "I'll survive." Although my little brother did kill off my birthday balloons while I was in Toronto. I'm still a little pissed. I love my balloons. Very much. So in their honor, how about I write a little drabble that practically no one will care to read?

XxXxXxXx

Slim hands were wrapped around the red string of a red balloon, the air-filled rubber a speck of scarlet on a vast blue and white canvas. The girl hugged herself tight, gripping onto that piece of string that tied her to the sky. Long brown hair fluttered weakly, riding the faint breeze, as she turned her eyes to the clouds and inky-feathered birds.

A sense of foreboding lingered.

She closed her eyes, tuning out the noisy murmurs of the crowded festive area and the cool of a late autumn afternoon. This was the last day, the only day remaining, and her internal clock was ticking. She could feel herself slipping away with her every breathe, white dress flowing outwards in a bubble-like form that granted her a heavenly appearance of sorts.

"There you are! Everyone was searching for you! Do you know how worried I was when I found out that you ran away from the hospital?"

She blinked her tears away in rapid batting of lush eyelashes. "Today is the last day." And with her voice barely pushing the words out, the whispers drowning in all the sounds around her, she released that one-dollar balloon in a dramatic wide motion. Her arms stretched horizontally, hugging the heavens above her, she froze like that for a still moment in time.

"Let's go," said the man as the crimson was finally swallowed up by the blue, yet he couldn't do a thing as the girl knelt down and cried. Rivets dripped down her face, leaving dirty trails upon her rosy cheeks, and he only watch that tiny ball of misery in a respectful and distressing silence.

No one looked at them, and everyone who did pretended not to see. They walked on, and she felt only lonelier now. Alone, and no one felt what she felt. No one knew of her pain, of her weakness, and no one would help her... So she only sobbed harder, her wails wrecking through her too-thin frame that had to over-force to get her to that carnival.

Then finally, her cries stopped and she stood to take that man's outstretched hand, that hand that had been waiting the whole time.

"Yeah, let's go..."

***

Rushed ending, gotta go to bed, g'night.




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