A year's coming up fast. Really fast. I'm not really sure what I'm going to do when it DOES hop up on me, but I'll do something.....if I can ever figure out what it is I'm supposed to do.......
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It was all just a blur. I don't know what happened. The last thing I remember was the cliff and the rocks. I soon found out that it had been three years.
A boy was standing over me. He didn't look much older than I was. His shoulder-length black hair was hanging there, framing his sun-tanned face. They say someone's eyes never change. His eyes were all that I had focused on since waking up. They looked familiar, but I couldn't place where they had come from. Then he spoke.
"Sarora....Sarora? Are you awake?" he asked softly, brushing my sun-bleached hair out of my face. "How do you feel?"
I just looked at him, unsure of how to answer. "I don't remember anything," I told him blankly. It was true. I didn't remember what had happened after I fell off of the cliff by our village onto the rocks beneath by the ocean. I was 12 then.
"It's been three years since you fell...." the boy said. "off the rocks, I mean. Do you remember?"
"uh-huh," I murmered, my eyes fixated on his.
"It's me, Sarora," the teenage male said. "I'm all that's left. The rest left afterward. They couldn't live with you not there..." his voice faded and I could see a look of shame in his pale blue eyes.
"Bran?" I asked. "Is it really you? This feels like a dream....a really bad dream...." I started crying. Bran smiled.
"Aye, it is me" he said, his beautiful, hazy eyes tearing up at me mentioning his name.
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It was all just a blur. I don't know what happened. The last thing I remember was the cliff and the rocks. I soon found out that it had been three years.
A boy was standing over me. He didn't look much older than I was. His shoulder-length black hair was hanging there, framing his sun-tanned face. They say someone's eyes never change. His eyes were all that I had focused on since waking up. They looked familiar, but I couldn't place where they had come from. Then he spoke.
"Sarora....Sarora? Are you awake?" he asked softly, brushing my sun-bleached hair out of my face. "How do you feel?"
I just looked at him, unsure of how to answer. "I don't remember anything," I told him blankly. It was true. I didn't remember what had happened after I fell off of the cliff by our village onto the rocks beneath by the ocean. I was 12 then.
"It's been three years since you fell...." the boy said. "off the rocks, I mean. Do you remember?"
"uh-huh," I murmered, my eyes fixated on his.
"It's me, Sarora," the teenage male said. "I'm all that's left. The rest left afterward. They couldn't live with you not there..." his voice faded and I could see a look of shame in his pale blue eyes.
"Bran?" I asked. "Is it really you? This feels like a dream....a really bad dream...." I started crying. Bran smiled.
"Aye, it is me" he said, his beautiful, hazy eyes tearing up at me mentioning his name.
