InvincibleA Story by Brianna Van Zandt(Accidentally deleted the other one..)I know the water isn’t red. I know the lake is a brilliant turquoise color. But in my eyes, it was red. Not just red. It seems to me a deep crimson, or maybe it is scarlet. The blood that coated my skin trickled into the pure water, tainting it with the evil of what I had done. I laughed, finding pleasure in the memories of screams and cries, then the silence that followed. My laughter was soft, softer than normal. I let my mind wander over the last few days, and the laughter, which started as an innocent little giggling type of laugh, turned to a wild and insane cackle. I stopped laughing, walking up the lake’s beach toward the rocky outcrop that stood a little to my right. I left bloody footprints on the off white sand with each step, small amounts of crimson tainted water pooling behind me as I walked. I climbed from rock to rock, at last reaching the top. I stared down at the water, the bloody water that seemed to plummet further and further down the longer I waited, the abysmal depth growing more and more. It seemed that if I were to jump, it would take ages to hit the water. “Nothing can hurt me,” I told myself. And then I jumped. ‘Invincible. The others tried to hurt you and they failed. You can’t be hurt. You are invincible.’ I hit the water hard, the force of the impact pushing me down further into the water. Beneath the surface, I opened my eyes and looked at my hands and arms, the blood lifting off of me and disappearing, the water before me turning from red to blue. With a few powerful kicks, I surfaced and swam to the shore. “Invincible.” I said it again, over and over. “I am invincible.” Reaching the sandy shore, I made my way out of the water and picked up my knife from the gritty sand. “Invincible,” I said, wanting to hear it one more time. © 2012 Brianna Van ZandtAuthor's Note
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Added on June 4, 2012Last Updated on June 14, 2012 Tags: Invincible, Class, Story AuthorBrianna Van ZandtUnited States Minor Outlying IslandsAboutIt's been a while since I've been here. I'm now twenty years old, and though my time for writing has dwindled, my passion has not. If anything, it has grown – and made it infinitely more difficu.. more..Writing
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