Wordwars

As soon as I saw Autumn walk in that morning, I was sure that something was up. She looked so different, tired, worn out. She didn't look good altogether.

I had heard rumors; she was a murderer, prostitute, she had taken naked photos and put them on the internet. Her dad found out and kicked her out. She was a hobo. All that crap. I frowned, thinking up of all of the possibilities. None of them were good in my mind, and none of them made sense. Being her friend, I'd just have to ask her.

After math class was over, I ran up to her in the hall and tugged on her sleeve. "Auty," I mumured. "What's going on?"

She turned her face from me. "Nothing. will you leave me alone?" with that she whisked away into her next class, and left me standing bewildered. Kayla walked up to me, an angry look in her eyes. "I told you that she was bad news."

Kosko sobbed and glanced up at the man who had kidnapped her, Mello.
“What do you want from me?” She screamed at him, tears pouring down her face and dripping onto the ground. Mello came right up into her face.
“I’m using you as a hostage. For money.” He hissed at Kosko. “Now shut up or I’ll kill you.” He pulled out his gun threateningly. She began to tremble and rock with sobs, but kept quiet. Her life flashed before her eyes as the butt of the gun was pushed into her face, and she lifted a hand to push it away.
Mello’s shove softened, and he let the gun fall. Kosko warily glanced up at him, and saw that he was on the floor, no longer breathing. All the people in the mafia were staring at him like they couldn’t believe that he was dead. Kosko picked up the gun and pointed it at the deputy leader-no, the leader now, since Mello was dead.
“Put your guns down or he dies!” She shouted at all of them. There was clanging as everyone dropped their weapons. She was breathing heavily.
“Everyone behind him! Now!” Kosko barked, and they all scrambled to get in a perfect line. She walked up to the front of the line, gun still up, and put the gun to the first guy’s head. Closing her eyes, she pulled the trigger. The bullet shot through all the heads, and ended up lodged in the fifth and last man’s head. Blood began to seep out of the gun wounds, and Kosko began to cry again, dropping the gun. She huddled back up in the corner, but no before cleaning her fingerprints off the gun and putting it in Mello’s.
Kosko decided to say that Mello had shot them and then died while she sat there, weeping.
In a few hours police arrived, and took Kosko to safety. She took one last look back at all the mafia members, and thought she saw Mello’s hand twitch. Horrified, she pointed at him.
“His hand moved.” She whispered through trembling lips. The police officer rubbed her back soothingly.
“Don’t worry. We’re having our doctors ‘put him down’ like the animal he is.” The police officer said. Relief flooded Kosko as she realized that Mello would always be dead. And then relief dissipated.

I stumbled around the nursery, hunger clawing at my tiny stomach. Thinking back to the day before, I remembered the pile of freshly killed prey that sat in the clearing of camp. Licking my pale pink lips, I plodded slowly into the clearing, checking to make sure Bluepaw wasn't going to ruin my fun again, like she had before.

The coast was clear. I made it to the pile of prey and sniffed each peice hungrily. There was a plump sparrow, a good-sized mouse, and a tiny thrush. My stomach growling, I grabbed the sparrow and ravenously bit into it, getting a mouthful of black feathers. "Pfft!" I blew the feathers out of my mouth, an expression of distaste creeping onto my face.

Maybe if I pluck each other off first...I thought, gingerly beginning to pluck mouthfuls of feathers off of the dead bird. The feathers were foul, and sticky, but I knew it would pay off. After the bird had been stripped of it's glossy feathers, I bit into the flesh, savoring the juicy taste.

Nobody really expects to become a “guardian angel.” One second you’re just a normal teen, sweating over that math exam you’re sure you got a negative billion on, and the next you’re dead, an angel following around this other teen that’s got problems. Yeah, a pretty big switch in scenery. That is exactly what happened to me. So I, Elizabeth, shall take you into the strange coincidence that resulted in my death and recruitment into the guardian angels.
First, I’ll start with what happened before I died. It was a nice, warm, Thursday afternoon. I had just gotten off the bus and was heading for home. I needed to take my dog for a walk. When I got there, she was as excited as ever, stepping all over my feet in the process of me finding her leash and clipping her to it.
I took the normal route through an empty lot, trying to keep Bailey under control as she zigzagged in front of me. Then we got to the road. I probably should have reeled her in at that point and locked her adjustable leash, but I didn’t. Next thing I knew, she had tugged me right into the path of an oncoming cement truck. You can guess what resulted when I hit that thing.
I woke to find myself in the middle of a golden field. Sitting up, I rubbed my aching head. “Ow,” I muttered. “That hurt…”
“You must be the new guardian angel!” a voice said, seemingly out of nowhere. A nerdy looking kid was now in my face. By nerdy, I mean nerdy. He had the voice, thick rimmed glasses, shirt pocket with an army of pens and whatnot. I blinked at him.
“Who are you?” I asked, pushing him away slightly. I stood up. “Where am I?” I sighed, and my hand went to my back. I felt feathers. Wait, feathers? I turned my head around, and saw huge white wings behind me. WINGS?!?
“Oh, my name is Jordan,” the nerd-kid, or Jordan told me. “You’re in heaven!”
“Wait, so you mean,” I started, then paused. “I’m dead?”
“’Fraid so,” Jordan replied, shaking his head.
“I can’t be!” I shouted in disbelief, looking all around. Unfortunately, it all made sense. Wings, the golden field, nerd dude. Well, nerd dude didn’t make sense. But everything else did. There was no doubt; I WAS DEAD.
I flopped, face down into the grass. “Don’t worry, your situation is only temporary,” nerd-dude said again.

Dear Justin,
Someone is out to get me.
In the last few days I have gotten so many injuries on my legs and feet, I honestly think some magical force out there is trying to prevent me from going on the Mission trip.
Well, like I already told you, I scraped my left knee on the new trampoline. It hurts when I sleep because I like to sleep on my stomach, but I can't because my knee rubs against the bed and it hurts like heck.
If that wasn't enough, I was also brutally attacked by the extremely large, and I mean massive, tub of margarine that we keep in our fridge. I was lifting it out of the fridge and BOOM it falls right onto the skin above my left knee, leaving a huge purpley-red bruise.
But wait! There's more! (When you read that part, read it in a Billy Mays voice. It adds effect.) I also managed to give my ankle a minor sprain, while jumping on the trampoline.
My poor legs.

Painfully yours,
Elizabeth

Dear Justin,
I miss you more and more each day.
I don't miss the popular, cute Justin that has a “hot” girlfriend and everything he wants, I miss the funny, understanding guy from tech. I miss the way you laughed, and the way you were able to quote Spongebob perfectly. I miss giggling like little kindergartners when we passed eachother notes.
But then I remember the pool party Justin, who ignores me and leaves me all alone, not even acknowledging my obvious presence, and I don't miss you all that much anymore.
Is this how things will always be?

Feeling betrayed,
Elizabeth