Clutch

The Boy with No Memories and The Girl Who Played with Knives

"Excuse me" I said a bit louder. The old man looked up. He grinned and his tongue slithered around his lips. I flinched at him.

"Now what do you have to fear girl." The old man grimaced.

"Follow me." he said very creepily.

We walked down an ally where prisoners were screaming. It hurt my ears. He opened the door for me. The air was cold. Many pale faces looked at me. I felt out of place. My skin was really fair, but not pale.

I was in charge of sweeping the place. A lot of the prisoners had vomited all over the place. As I was mopping the floor, I tripped over the bucket and into a boy's chest. His skin was icy cold. When I looked up, he had dark brown hair and gray eyes. His skin was pale, like the rest of the dead ghosts.

"I-I am terribly sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." I sputtered. In my mind, I felt like a jerk.

Are you serious Irene.

"Gwendolyn, shut up."

"I am 'lright." the boy replied. He had a heavy Scottish accent.

Behind a girl appeared, she looked about twelve or thirteen. She sharpened knives on a chain. I could never be so delicate with knives. She looked like the girl you'd see in horror movies, with her stringy raven black hair and milky pale skin. The only thing that made her less creepy was the eyes. They were wide and muddy brown.

"Logan, come on."the girl muttered sternly.

"I'll be there in a wee second." Logan said to Carolyn. Logan looked at me and said,

"Ye alive ones er surely lucky, ye get yer memories, I don't." With that he and Carolyn walked away.