The bullet flew through the air, glinting wickedly in mid-flight. I was frozen behind the cardboard boxes strewn across the floor, peppered through the room. Margo grunted in pain as the piece of metal pierced her skin. I nearly ran forward to help her, but held back, in fear of the gun held out of the shadow in a tiny grip across the room. I held my breath, motionless. A small figure came out of the shadow, a little blonde girl with pale skin and big blue eyes, smiling mischievously, like she had just won a game.
“Why?” Was the one word Margo managed to splutter, her long, flowing mousey hair already tipped with her striking red blood.
“Just because we were both teamed in the alliance wars, doesn’t mean I’m the same person now. I’ve changed Margo. I’ve moved on. Seen sense in the ‘work’ I was doing, which was all for nothing. I met Him.”
“You’ve changed.” Margo’s last words echoed through the room, as she flickered out like a candle, became a limp rag doll.
It's definitely not the best thing I've ever written in my life. No, not at all. I have really good plans for it though, and I know the vague storyline, but, knowing me, I will change it randomly half way through. Never mind.
Any thoughts on what I've written? Also, I am getting a different blog layout sometime. I'm going to start looking for other writing and art blogs. If anyone does read this, do you have any suggestions on who's blogs are worth reading? Thanks!
Question: How many manuscripts are you currently working on? (Me, one, but that will soon become two...)