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This is a site made by teens for teens. Here we’ll showcase our talents and experiences, and leave you jumping for joy along the way (no pun intended). If you’re considering starting blogging, consider joining us (see “Become a member”.) To learn more browse through our pages. But now, get ready to have a happy time!

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Sunday, September 9, 2012

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I'm so sorry I haven't posted properly get, girly-wirlys!

I could apologize a bunch of times, and write a post on something or other. But, truthfully, Blog for joy has had to sit on the backburner for the time being. Getting back into  routine for getting back into education, reaching 155 followers, and badly spraining my ankle (and our home computer breaking!) has meant now everything is a bit of a rush. But, don't fear. Today, I thought i'd write you the entry that I entered for 247 tales last month, and came runner up. I was so pleased, as it was the second month in a row that I came runner up, here it is.

The big fight was coming soon. The attack from the enemy camp. Of course it was. They'd wail and scream and build eachother up into a frenzy, gearing for battle. Our camp grew wild, everyone huddled together, trying to figure out our defence.

Nothing would be enough, though, not against them. We could dart and swerve and hide away, we could protect our elders, our friends and families. But eventually, eventually they would reach us. They had machinery beyond our wildest dreams, and against millions of us, it would only take one of them.

Rumbling, churning, ripping into life. Everyone hoped the day would never come, but the only survivor knew all too well, that it would. Stomping, loud, roaring like a fire, it would tear our community into shreds, leaving nothing but a few, lucky enough to survive.

Everyone feared it, feared them, but were grateful they weren't in the first ranks. Elders, young ones, all terrified together, ready for their fate. Nowhere to run, nothing at all to defend themselves, nothing at all.

It was a bright August morning when the deadly rasps could be heard, echoing from every angle, the wind still, the anguish filling the small spaces between us. Tearing, razor like teeth grinding the land before us, desperate to CRASH into our insignificant lives. They were ready, they'd spoken, and we would lose......

“What are you doing, Jerry?!”

“Just cutting the grass, dear....”
 
Tata,Leah xox

2 comments:

  1. At first I was a bit afraid at the violence, then was pleased at the whim at the end. Thanks for posting again, Leah!

    ReplyDelete

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