Her name was Lyka. She's 8, I'm 6. She lives on the house at the end of my road. She doesn't go to school. Actually, I don't know what school she goes to. Whenever I go back home, she's there. Waiting for me, at the front of my house. She's smiling. She always is.
I like Lyka. She protects me. She stops the older kids from doing anyhting to me. She'll say something and they'll leave. Then she found us a special place. Our special place. Though it's not really much, just the roof of my house. I still don't know how she got there. Everyone likes Lyka.
Her name's Lyka. She's 8 and I'm 6. She lives on the house at the end of my road. She has light brown hair and light brown eyes. Lyka moved away when I was 8. I asked and asked.
No one remembers Lyka. Not even her family...
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Creative Stories
Short StoryThis are stuff that I wrote during my English Classes. That means that they'll most likely be one-shots. Though some might be tied to another. (Most likely written at a later date). I'll gladly accept criticism, and anything bad you have to say, as...
