so i clear it then test again. this makes sense [cough] -- ooc

What You See If What You Get

slipping into the shadows near the wall, nymph crouches down and scurries along trying to remain unseen but knowing she would be found, or have to come out, soon. the pangs of hunger were beginning to slow her down. the lack of energy taking its toll on her mental state of being. limbs cease to move as blonde she reaches the corner. leaning on the wall breathing hard from the effort of making her tired muscles move her knees buckle before she tells them to bend causing a slight groan to escape parched lips.

All In My Head

I must get food. with the last of my money gone I can�t purchase any. I�m quickly running out of energy. yes I see others all about me but who�s to say they won�t send me back to the orphanage as soon as they find out I ran away? and they don�t look as if they�re old enough to need someone to work for them.

Dear Diary

journal-
exhaustion eats at my soul. everyday I slow down. I�m now out of food and energy. I can�t write anymore, tired again.

Look Again

after completing the day�s journal entry blonde nymph rests her back on the cold wall. sleep and lack of food catch up with her. pen still in hand and journal still upon her lap she slips into an uneasy dream...

Dream Time

kneeling upon a large expanse of dirty white tile she rolls up the sleeves of her off-white cotton shirt. fishing a scrub brush out of her frothy mix of soap and water which reside in a metal pail at her side. she sighs and begins to scrub thinking, why can�t madam just let me use a mop it would be so much easier, but no �floors get cleaner when scrubbed� according to madam. nymph begins the long task of scrubbing. occasionally reaching up to tuck an unruly lock of blonde hair back behind a lobe. the dream fades and sharpens. an elderly woman stands over a cowering nymph scolding for mistakes made. the dream ends with a snap.

Waking Life

nymph sits bolt upright, blue-grey saucers pierce the shadows surrounding her slender figure as she fights to regulate her breathing. mind works furiously fast, strange after being tired for so long. she looks down and realizes that her journal rests open in her lap. did someone read it? nervous she looks about again hopefully not

pheonix

set my immortal soul to fly

She spends her days up in the north park,
Watching the people as they pass
And all she wants is just a little piece of
This dream, is that too much to ask
With a safe home, and a warm bed, on a
quiet little street
All she wants is just that something to
Hold onto, that�s all she needs