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I can't remember why I wrote this, or what it's about, but I guess I should post something so here:



She ran.
Undeniably and surely being struck in the face and flanks, constantly tripping over her own feet. Blood seeped through her wounds, the warm, sticky red liquid flooded her light brown eyes causing her trip even more. By the what it seemed like the 40th time her ebony hair fell out of her lazy pony-tail.
"Okay," she mumbled "Okay, I can get through this" she craned her neck around to look at her pursuer. From the tight belt around her bare leg she unhitched a dagger and threw it in his direction, the soft moan of pain eased her anxiety.
"Maybe that will slow him down" she thought as she continued to run. "This damn island", she thought, "if only I wasn't stuck here, damn boat, damn rocks, damn movie-like plot...", when she got to the pond with the willow trees surrounding it she stopped and climbed up. "Where the hell did these natives come from anyways? Nathan said that the island was clear when he scoped out with Daniel," Clary said to Sharron when she climbed up the tree to relax "and, oh! My goodness what happened to your face?" Clary shrugged and whipped the blood from her eyes. "Who cares? I lost my knife, I'm glad I left my favourite one here." Clary pulled her dark hair off to the side and got it out, it seemed to glow in the pale moonlight. Radiating with power, Clary remembered about the day she got this dagger, Gary had given it to her when they were little, it was a family heirloom. It was thought as a propsal to give it to someone outside of the family... If only he hadn't...
Clary shuddered and shook her head to clear it. Gently, ever so gently she placed the dagger in the hilt at her thigh. Secretly she wondered why she was given the shortest pair of shorts she wasn't even pretty in her opinion, Sharron was the pretty one. Her blonde curls looked brilliant with her brown eyes. 1875 was not a good year for brunettes, the ones with green eyes. No one liked green eyes. It didn't matter if you had dimples, and beautifully tanned skin from to many days in the garden. Luckily archery and fencing lesson HAD come in handy.

The peonies had smelled wonderful that year, she was 8, and the smell wafted over into the field by the fountain. The yellow dress she wore made the lightly tanned skin upon her nose seem to be darker along with her hair and eyes. Sharron watched from the side of the fountain as Clary strung her bow. The arrow had lovely plumage on the end and Clary ran her fingers along the sides of the polished wood and tip. She wanted to gaze at it forever, like the life span of the moon and sun, eternal. Music played from the opened windowed hallway leading to the banquet that night. Clary gathered up her petit coats and ran to the ballroom. She couldn't wait to dance with Gary...

Again Clary shook her head to evade the sad memories of her friend and companion, and the moonlight had faded a bit. She looked up wondering up much time had passed as she saw the orange
sunrise over the lake. Bright was and warm was the day, though dark and cold was the long unforgiving night.

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So I have written an essay on if I could go back in time and kill my brother to see the difference in my life.
Still in MLA but not in Jane Schaffer being it would be impossible here.
Any constructive criticism is appreciated.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1N0_AfE6-6hzaL1Q2Zm-wQBhJUbCtXOnn0vSJWfA9DoU/edit?usp=sharing

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So this wasn't made on a whim but it's still a piece of writing I've done that I'm turning in tomorrow.
Was done in MLA/Jane Schaffer so isn't as good as it could be.
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XPurGQ19RnIyxwKPaSrXzSU86d6geoAvkZ5bPiNkoKE/edit
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