Turtle Sara - Chapter 3
I'm aware of a searing pain in my arm and back of my head. I know that I'm hurt, but I'm alive. I struggle to open my eyes, but I manage it. There are two green eyes looking down at me. They're not Diani's eyes because hers are blue like Mum and Dad. The eyes I'm looking at are an emerald green colour, with flecks of silver in them. I'm lying on my back, looking up to the strange eyes. I try to sit up but I suddenly feel very dizzy and lower my head down again. My head is being supported by something someone's hands, I think. I can hear noises all around me; shouting, sirens and car horns. But all I can see are those eyes. They are filled with concern.
"Turtle! Turtle! Are you alright?" I can hear voices now and my vision returns to normal. The green eyes belong to a boy with olive skin, blond brown hair and a skinny face. He's kneeling down next to me, holding my head with his hands. He doesn't say anything; just looks at me with a worried expression
Turtle Sara - Chapter 2
As soon as I wake up and get dressed, the chaos begins. None of us even have time for breakfast, because we're all rushing to get the boxes in the moving truck. Murphy keeps getting in the way, whining for attention, but there just isn't enough time. The new family is arriving in two hours, and we still have a heap of cardboard boxes. Throughout the house, you can hear people yelling.
"Did you get the box from the bathroom yet?"
"Diani, get Turtle's PJs from her room please!"
"Where the heck is my freaking toothbrush?!"
"Dad, you forgot the flowers in the kitchen!"
"Not now, Murphy!"
"Oh crap! Where the hell is it?!"
"Mind your language young lady!"
"@#*!$*&@^!" (This was from Dad as he dropped the box full of Diani's swimming trophies onto his foot)
After two hours of frantic running around and last minute packing, we manage to get everything into the two moving trucks that we rented. Mum hugs Diani's and my shoulders and looks around the room that was once
Turtle Sara - Chapter 1
Please don't be too harsh, this is a very rough draft and I will most probably edit it a lot more later on.
When an artist begins to paint, they either have an exact idea about what they are going to create, or just make it up as they go along. I think that people can be categorised like this too. I am one of those people who make things up as I go along, just going along with the flow. I do things first and then think about it later. This usually creates a lot of trouble for me, but that's just how I roll. My older sister Diani is always telling me that I should be more organised and grow up some more, but I usually just ignore her and draw some more pictures on the back of my hand with whatever writing tool I happen to be holding. A true artist doesn't need a proper canvas to paint on, they use whatever they have handy. That's what I think, anyway. True artists cruise through life, seeing where it takes them and just flow. Unfortunately, not ever