Sunday, May 3, 2009My throat was parched and dry, and my clothes hung limp against my fair porcelain skin. I tried to croak out a few words to complain, but my voice sounded like tearing paper. I could feel my hair splattered onto my forehead in a messy mass, as frostings of sweat melted into the air, leaving only a sour stench beneath my nose. This was all too much, and I couldn’t take it anymore as I threw myself onto the wooden chair like how one may throw a towel over one’s shoulders. I could even picture myself as one of those dolls that had lost half of it’s stuffing, slouching pathetically in a shelf, waiting for my owner to give attention to me again.
some part of my yr2 Commonwealth essay thing.
i realise my writing skills have become really horrid over the past few years.
i cant write like that anymore.
get one from cbox!
I am an Orchidite
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