Narrative Essay: Lost In Paradise

1017 Words 5 Pages
Lost in Paradise

It was green and bright, the sunlight beating down from a clear sky. There was a lake not too far from where I laid stretched out on the grass, filled with silver fish and water so clear you could see the bottom. A tree, large and old and spindly, stood just off to my left, its branches waving with the breeze. Like an ancient guardian, its shadow protected me from the glare of the sun. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I tipped my head to the side, peering at the girl sitting cross-legged beside me, her hands behind her, propping her up. She was young, barely older than ten, with messy, crooked pigtails. Her eyes were brown and her hair was blonde and long. A pretty girl, but… “I love it here,” she continued on with a strange
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“I don’t ever wanna leave,” I murmured absently. “No. I suppose you wouldn’t.” There was an edge to her voice, as if I’d irritated her. The girl twirled around, her dress flaring up to reveal her white underwear. Unembarrassed in only the way that children have, she kept spinning. Turning and turning and turning, seemingly never getting dizzy. Her pigtails whipped about, weapons in their own right. “I know where Harmony is,” came her voice, pitch rising and falling as she turned. “I know where they’re keeping her.” She stopped, finally, not even breathing fast. “Would you like to know?” Harmony. What a nice name. Yes. Very nice indeed. “Sterling?” “Yes?” The girl stepped toward me, planting her feet just above the top of my head. She bent over, staring down at me, her features upside down. And boy, wasn’t that funny? I grinned goofily, wondering if the girl found my face as funny as I found hers. But I supposed she didn’t, because she only shook her head, looking disappointed for some reason. My grin faded, because while an upside down face was hilarious, there was nothing funny about having someone look disappointed in you. No, nothing funny about that at …show more content…
Maybe I had, maybe I hadn’t. Either way, I was glad it had gone away. “Afrit.” “That’s a nice name.” “Yes. Nice.” We delved into a funny sort of silence. A silence that, when you really strained your ears, you could hear all these little noises. The creak of that old tree as it bent in the wind; the lapping of the clear lake water against the shore; a fish leaping from the water and coming down with a splash; Afrit’s soft breathing; even the breeze rustling the grass. It was in that funny silence that I felt a nudge at the back of my head, a whisper of a thought. I snatched at it, only to have it dance away. The thought itched and squirmed, poking at my brain and shouting ‘look at me, look at me!’ only to evade my grasp yet again. “Harmony,” I said. Afrit glanced at me, her eyes—they weren’t grey, but a dark blue—sparkling. I reached out finally, grabbing hold of the pesky thought and pulling it to the forefront of my mind.
(Harmony. What a pretty name. I know where she is. Harmony. Harmony. Would you like to know? Would you like to know where she is? Harmony. Harmony. They’ve taken her. Harmony is missing would you like to know where she is? Yes, yes. Must

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