This is a game where everyone pitches in to write a story. You write a paragraph to follow the previous one and keep going until no one has anymore ideas.
Ill start She wordlessly grabbed her things and shoved them into her backpack. She had no need to stick around and make the others suffer through her tempermental habits, she was plenty mature enough to know when she had to leave. Having shoved everything into the backpack, she zipped it closed, and straightened to look around the room. The room had become her sanctuary for 3 years, had birthed warm memories for her...She closed her eyes as she turned in the direction of the door. That was 3 years ago, not the present. No, in the present she had to face facts, and the current fact that was hurting her so, she couldn't face without breaking. So she was leaving, cowardly perhaps, but at least she wasn't hurting amidst all the internal confusion she harbored. With a final glance, Camille looked at the warm past, before walking toward a cold future.
She did not know what was Ahead of her but she was ready to run away. Camille couldn't take this kind of treatment anymore and she was tired of it. No one understands her. camille hates everything that gets in her way; School , And everything that has to do with it.
She had been disgraced, betrayed and broken. And now she had had enough of it all. She thought back onto the memories of the last few months. Everything had suddenly taken a turn for the worst and now everyone hated being around her. She didn't have a single friend. As she walked out the door of her room tears came into her eyes as she walked away. But she kept walking because she was not going to give in.
"were to lady", the gruff voice said behind the glass, his wrinkled face staring at the young kid. "broadway, and be quick", the old man shrugged his head, and speed of. Looking up she opened her purse, making sure sure the driver couldn't see her, she pulled out the two most important things in the world to her. The old battered photo album, and her fathers gun. As she flicked trough the pictures she traced the outline of fathers face on the picture. It had been almost ten years since that night and the knock on the door, her mother crying, her brother screaming, the world an upside mess around her as she stood there the Carm centre of it all. Now she knew it was time ten years had passed and slowly piece by piece she put the threads and the clues together. She picked up the gun, the cold hard steel heavy in her hand, 6 bullets, 6 names.
^that did not mix with the story. She sighed and pushed the door open, hearing laughter behind hee back. "Laugh all you want Trevor. I don't care…" A tear slid down her cheek as she headed out to the cold world. She had been in this hell hole for years; 7 years. But it seems like her home now. The place where she was used to. The boy whose name was Trevor ran to her and grabbed her shoulder, telling her to stay. "No. I know I'm not wanted." "Please Camille, it was just a joke..." "Trevor, no. You just HAD to make fun of my family." She lived in this orphanage, this hell hole. Everybody who walked in would whisper and laugh at her. Camille they would say, get a life! Nobody wants you.... That voice had haunted her for days; years! She attempted to walk out again only to be grabbed by Trevor. "I'm coming with you. You're not ready for the world yet."