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The Never-Ending Wait

I sat in the library cafe, surrounded by nine-year-olds from the school next door, and troubled and disabled kids with thier social workers, waiting for my dad to get off of work. While I waited, I watched the kids play tag together. They kept falling over and hurting themselves when they got tagged. Their feet were clumsy, their arms bumbling, and sometimes, their mouths would droop on one side against their will.

But there was one who drew my eye. She had a pouf of fiery red hair, barely contained within a ribbon and spilling down her shoulders in keratin corkscrews, and an inflamed face to match - warm cheeks studded with splotches of beige, sharply cocked brown eyes like a falcon's, spicy cheddar lips curled into a scowl. She turned to look at me and I looked away, suddenly ashamed for staring. When I looked back she'd dissapeared into the crowd if children

I found her, she was dead She had a smile on her face. Like, she acomplished her dream, like she meet her hero, like ......... a really creepy dead person. I had to notify the police and adults. I went over to my dad and told him I found a dead person. He looked at me srangely and reminded me that in 15999 there was no death, atleast, not naturally. Oh yeah and then I looked at the man I was talking to. Apparantley I was talking to the man who stopped death. My father worked with him.

written by:

treaveday

Jakalak

mhavas

elaine54

hermes-kelly

TrinityWaq

Shoushedo39

ejelly

TyWarbur