Post by x---Lindsay---> ♥ on May 1, 2006 15:08:45 GMT -5
....The words in her old notebooks seemed so dull, and unentertaining. Every year she grew she noticed how bad the wrting was the year before. But Lindsay knew it all meant something to her back then. She could already tell this year of poems was going to be the most emotional. She flipped through the pages of 2 old notebooks, one from age 14 and one from age 16. She looked at the wrinkled pages of the ones that were cried on. Especially the one page of age 14.
....She skipped over it, not willing enough to experience the same pain and jolt to her heart. She sighed and flipped through them. This was getting boring. She needed something to do. Lindsay got to her feet, a little woobly from sittinng on them and losing a bit of circulation. She walked over to the props and many coustumes on the back of the stage. She didn't expect anyone to be hanging here. Its not like people came here after school.
....She slid the dresses and aprons and ties along the metal rack aimlessly. She moved over and touched her hand to the props of past plays and such. Senior year. Wow, how times flew. A thought so horrible hit her just then. Did she even have money to go to college? She pushed the thought away from her mind and wandered over to look at some other old props. She picked up a script from Annie. Ahh, this had to be here awhile. It was from 7 years ago. She blew the dust and opened it, flipping through the pages of lines.
....She skipped over it, not willing enough to experience the same pain and jolt to her heart. She sighed and flipped through them. This was getting boring. She needed something to do. Lindsay got to her feet, a little woobly from sittinng on them and losing a bit of circulation. She walked over to the props and many coustumes on the back of the stage. She didn't expect anyone to be hanging here. Its not like people came here after school.
....She slid the dresses and aprons and ties along the metal rack aimlessly. She moved over and touched her hand to the props of past plays and such. Senior year. Wow, how times flew. A thought so horrible hit her just then. Did she even have money to go to college? She pushed the thought away from her mind and wandered over to look at some other old props. She picked up a script from Annie. Ahh, this had to be here awhile. It was from 7 years ago. She blew the dust and opened it, flipping through the pages of lines.
