Well, i got bored, and decided to write this. tell me what you think, and if enough people like it, i'll continue it. Oh, and i dont have a title for it... any suggestions are welcome.
The heat was blistering. The rain was cold as it touched, and boiled in our socks. The was the worst part of our journey. Not the sleep deprivation, or the lack of water. The wet, and hot socks plastered to our feet. The wet socks rubbed our feet raw, and gave us countless blisters. That was the most painful part of our journey. Not the hail that occasionally pounded our heads. Not the brambles that clawed at our arms. The blisters on our feet from wet socks. That sounds insignificant, but you try running from cops, while you were innocent, with no water, or food, or supplies. We all had warrants for murder, and accessories to murder. I was the prime suspect. Of course, why would I think any different? I had the worst luck in the North Hemisphere. They said they had evidence. I knew that was a lie. And I also knew why they wanted to bring me down. I was a threat to national security. But Iâll get into that later. Right now, its time to hunt. I think we are in Nevada now. We ran from Florida. No cars, no trucks, not even a bike or two. Just walking, and hiding for 3 months. It was slow going, but hey? They didnât know where we were, and they thought we had run off to Guatemala. That was courtesy of my mom. She was the best liar I knew. She lied to me, my dad, and her dad, and the cops. Lucky for me, sheâs an awesome mom. I must go now, to catch some food for our group. 7 people are not fed very easily. Oh, and one more thing. Iâm 16.
