Description
Warning: This is book one (It is finished) in a series I am working on book 2 Into: Her house stood at the base of the Headlong cliffs. The cliffs are great desert mountains built by ages of sand hardening and becoming hard rock. It was dark by the time she began to climb up the dangerous cliffs, scraping her knees here and there. She grew up near these cliffs, this was home. She has been through every nook and cranny not missing a single detail. She could climb through these cliffs day, night, rain, shine, wind, snow, anything, even blind. But tonight she climbed to seek refuge from her life below. At the top there was a shack built up of large metal sheets that had likely been placed together by some random traveler seeking shelter. She crawled her way into the small hole that substitutes as an entrance. Inside there were a few boxes and a patch of dirt. She sat down and leaned against one of the boxes. She pulled her knees to her chest and stuck her head down so that she looked like a little ball. Finally, after holding it all in for far too long, she let the flood of tears flow. She sat there on the hard ground crying and crying and crying until there were no possible tears left to cry.
Authors Note
