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The Owl (Open)
« Thread started on: Sep 10th, 2010, 5:58pm »
OOC: If this seems bad, please tell me so. I think it's bad already, but I want a Moderator to tell me that.
Karrmy quietly slipped out of her house and went to Lilly Hill. It was about ten o' clock at night, and she had woken up with an urge to take a walk somewhere peaceful. She sat down an a patch of grass and sat for awhile. An hour later, she felt a poke on her shoulder. It was Tank.
He was grinning broadly and said: "I couldn't help but notice you here. Seems quiet, huh?"
Karrmy hid a smile and replied: "Well, I suppose, until you came here." She shut her eyes and pretended not to care.
Tank frowned and said: "I'd leave if you want."
Karrmy opened her eyes quickly and said: "Oh Tank, you can stay if you want. I just was saying that. I'm just a little flustered, because you're here." Tank nodded silently and sat down next to her.
They sat peacefully there until midnight, when the moon disappeared behind the clouds. Tank got up, and helped Karrmy up, not letting go of her hand as he walked her back to her house. Karrmy glanced at him, and he blushed, so he dropped hands.
The house light was on, and Mr. Jones raced out saying: "Oh Karrmy, where were you? I was concerned." Then he noticed Tank.
He composed himself and said: "Oh, hello John. Thank you, you know, for finding Karrmy. We'll see you tomorrow. Good night."
He ushered Karrmy in the house and quickly, but not rudely closed the door. After the door was safely shut, he turned to Karrmy and said: "Now why were you with John?"
Karrmy mumbled: "You can call him Tank. He doesn't like the name John."
Her father frowned and said precisely: "I don't see anything wrong with the name. It is a good name. But to be called Tank is an insult. Yes, a tank is a machine device made strictly for war. I will not tolerate John in this house. He is a mere rebel. You have been raised to be disciplined."
Karrmy spoke up: "If mother were here, things would be different!"
Mr. Jones turned harshly at Karrmy and said: "Your mother isn't here, so I am here to raise you. You shall not talk about her in this household again. Now go to bed. It is 12:30."
Karrmy trudged up the stairs, weeping a little, and Mr. Jones sadly took out a picture of him and Mrs. Jones when they got married. He pressed the picture against his cheek and put it away. He straightened his shoulders and also went upstairs to bed.