A Story of Fiction: Sentiments of a 13-year Old

<h1>A Story of Fiction: Sentiments of a 13-year Old</h1>Author: <a title="Michael Giles" href="http://www.articlesbase.com/authors/michael-giles/36638.htm">Michael Giles</a> I was walking along that dim, strange sidewalk, when a flock of hungry bats obstructed my way. With no hesitation, I tried to capture one but never made it. With that striking hunger vicious in their eyes, it flew over me, and flogged me, bit me one by one, until the pain covered my capacity for reckless feedback. It stole my strength, blaming on me my weakness.

I had been hardly breathing. I had laid there for a few minutes dead meat, for scavenging cats and roaming rascals to have a party tonight, when I woke up.

From then on, that indescribable pain never lasted. It reached into my memory, digging in the lasts of what was reality to me. That once in a creepy dream, I had been left spared in the dark, is the present which continuously leaves a mark on me being human. For I lamented the grievances of someone seeking for affection. When all I really wanted was to feel the brilliance of life.

I begged that I may feel NOW as my past, wherein I could jive with them, click some shots, sit stuck amidst the traffic, crack those jokes, play with the music in marsh blending, watch the movies flicker, drop the compunctions, evade the snubs, derive an imbroglio, and imbue the ecstasy of life.

And now, I'm left with an inchoate character. I feel imaginary. Misplaced in yesterday's realm. Buried 5 feet and 11 inches, just an inch before extinction.

If only humans had such an ability, to hear the whispers of the longing heart, I could have stayed and escaped from abandonment.

I couldn't have been mute, in expressing my sentiments to this abject loneliness. When all this time, I needed them most, to resist the lame upshot of being left.About the Author: 16 yr-old dedicated Filipino writerArticle Source: <a href="http://www.articlesbase.com/">ArticlesBase.com</a> - <a href="http://www.articlesbase.com/fiction-articles/a-story-of-fiction-sentiments-of-a-13year-old-312001.html" title="A Story of Fiction: Sentiments of a 13-year Old">A Story of Fiction: Sentiments of a 13-year Old</a>

I was walking along that dim, strange sidewalk, when a flock of hungry bats obstructed my way. With no hesitation, I tried to capture one but never made it. With that striking hunger vicious in their eyes, it flew over me, and flogged me, bit me one by one, until the pain covered my capacity for reckless feedback. It stole my strength, blaming on me my weakness.

I had been hardly breathing. I had laid there for a few minutes dead meat, for scavenging cats and roaming rascals to have a party tonight, when I woke up.

From then on, that indescribable pain never lasted. It reached into my memory, digging in the lasts of what was reality to me. That once in a creepy dream, I had been left spared in the dark, is the present which continuously leaves a mark on me being human. For I lamented the grievances of someone seeking for affection. When all I really wanted was to feel the brilliance of life.

I begged that I may feel NOW as my past, wherein I could jive with them, click some shots, sit stuck amidst the traffic, crack those jokes, play with the music in marsh blending, watch the movies flicker, drop the compunctions, evade the snubs, derive an imbroglio, and imbue the ecstasy of life.

And now, I'm left with an inchoate character. I feel imaginary. Misplaced in yesterday's realm. Buried 5 feet and 11 inches, just an inch before extinction.

If only humans had such an ability, to hear the whispers of the longing heart, I could have stayed and escaped from abandonment.

I couldn't have been mute, in expressing my sentiments to this abject loneliness. When all this time, I needed them most, to resist the lame upshot of being left.

16 yr-old dedicated Filipino writer

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Article Tags: Internet, Love, Writing, Loneliness, Feeling, Sadness, Question, Affection, Remorse, Left, Dismal

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