Joined: 18 Jun 2009
another random opening for a story I wrote in french class. plz plz plz comment and
tell me what you think.
I remember the shouts and jeers of the crowd. They echo in my ears as if I first heard
them only yesterday. I can see in my mind the mass of people bundling into the square in
one big bunch to have a turn at beating my brother. I can still smell their sweat mingled
with his blood, and I feel his pain as if it were me being tortured and humiliated, not
The horror of that day is still etched into my memory, like a carving in a rock face. It
will never leave me, the memory is forever. I will never forget, even if I try to, it is
too horrible to forget.
I didn’t let a single tear drop after that day, however much I wanted too. Eiji had shed
not a single tear after all he had been through, and I was determined to show that I had
that same courage as he did.
When the torture was over, I could not tell if he was still breathing. I could not tell if
he was dead or alive. But the worst thing was, I could never find out. Eiji was gone. He
was dumped outside the boundaries that separated the West-Lands from the No-Lands, and I
was not going to venture into the No-Lands, even if Eiji was alive.
I comforted myself with the thought that Eiji was alive. There was still a chance, and
however small it may of been, it was there. I prayed at night to the Spirit of the Forest
to look after him, to keep him safe from all the horrendous creatures the No-Lands held.
Note: Edited the title to fit our Club's nonmenclature