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The paper

Not so much a story as a short descriptive piece. I love to write this kind of thing, hope you enjoy reading it!. Submitted by Jess (Award 67), age 17

The light bounces off the crisp, white sheets like a fearsome predator; in for the kill to start with but shocked when its prey retaliates and gives it the fight it hadn't anticipated. The harshness of the words on the perfect paper shock the rays just as they cause my eyes to leak with grief and anger. The salty beads continue to trickle down my face, tormenting my cheeks, ending their pointless journey with a terrifying leap from my jaw until it's all over. Until the next follow in their path. They confuse my eyes and obscure my vision so that the awful words are now only in my head. So they are not written there for all to see. So that they are illegible. So they were never there. So they can be erased from my memory and never written or spoken. So they can only exist in my head as drifting, aimless thoughts that have no purpose or meaning. So that to everyone else they will be merely letters strung together to make words and words strung together to make sentences. So that to everyone else it will end at empty sentences. But to me those empty sentences are full of hollow promises and broken hearts. It's too late for the promises to be filled and the hearts to be mended. It's too late for the words to carry meaning for anyone but the girl who sits, with tears in her eyes, staring at what the world sees as a piece of paper covered in illegible scribbles.

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