Story on 'TERRORISM'. THE FIRST ANSWER WILL GET BRAINLIEST. I want a story so that everyone praises me for class 7 level.
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It was a blackout. I moved my eye-balls around the newcomer, darkness. It was warm indeed, and the room was crowded heavily. I could see many silhouettes moving around, yet baffled I stood, waiting for another sounds to reach me. All I could hear was people murmuring under their lips, and their low footsteps.
I turned to her, holding her hand, and tightening my grip.
"I told you! All this art gallery function was a waste of time!," she stared at me, severely, as she was going to smack me in the face next. "I shouldn't have agreed. I SHOULDN'T HAVE AGREED TO ACCOMPANY YOU."
It was obvious she had lost her temper, yet she didn't want to show it. Perhaps, she thought it wasn't a nice place for a fight.
"Polly, slow down. It's fine. I believe we're not going to be here for long." I tried not to stare directly at her, for it would only worsen things for me. Albeit, I too was holding onto myself just like the rest of the other people.
The lift had stopped working, and the stairs were filled with people, hardly leaving any space. It grew hotter every second we stayed. I could tell by Polly's looks that she was cursing me, under her mouth, as she tediously wiped out her sweaty face and casted piercing looks at me.
"I give you five more minutes. Just five more, Neville. If we're not called out of here, I'm going to burst onto that crowd!" Her annoyance kept rising, and she now looked at me more sternly. I felt afraid and clenched deep inside, as my stomach twisted with guilt.
I started pulling out my notebook out of Polly's purse, to provide us with some not-so-much-of air conditioning. A moment, it went completely silent but the next moment, I heard gasps, a lot of them as I too turned my head, my coat fearfully caught by Polly. There was a beep, then another and another again. My heart was thumping, and it felt it would smash itself upon my chest. Beats grew, so did the beeps. They went faster, and faster.. Faster than I could blink my eyes.
I turned to Polly, her tears frozen in her eyes...
The other second, they were frozen.. forever.
P. S. - I wasn't sure about the idea, but it sure is an incident, that took place during terrorism. I actually felt wrong to write an inspirational /blo.ody story about terror.
I turned to her, holding her hand, and tightening my grip.
"I told you! All this art gallery function was a waste of time!," she stared at me, severely, as she was going to smack me in the face next. "I shouldn't have agreed. I SHOULDN'T HAVE AGREED TO ACCOMPANY YOU."
It was obvious she had lost her temper, yet she didn't want to show it. Perhaps, she thought it wasn't a nice place for a fight.
"Polly, slow down. It's fine. I believe we're not going to be here for long." I tried not to stare directly at her, for it would only worsen things for me. Albeit, I too was holding onto myself just like the rest of the other people.
The lift had stopped working, and the stairs were filled with people, hardly leaving any space. It grew hotter every second we stayed. I could tell by Polly's looks that she was cursing me, under her mouth, as she tediously wiped out her sweaty face and casted piercing looks at me.
"I give you five more minutes. Just five more, Neville. If we're not called out of here, I'm going to burst onto that crowd!" Her annoyance kept rising, and she now looked at me more sternly. I felt afraid and clenched deep inside, as my stomach twisted with guilt.
I started pulling out my notebook out of Polly's purse, to provide us with some not-so-much-of air conditioning. A moment, it went completely silent but the next moment, I heard gasps, a lot of them as I too turned my head, my coat fearfully caught by Polly. There was a beep, then another and another again. My heart was thumping, and it felt it would smash itself upon my chest. Beats grew, so did the beeps. They went faster, and faster.. Faster than I could blink my eyes.
I turned to Polly, her tears frozen in her eyes...
The other second, they were frozen.. forever.
P. S. - I wasn't sure about the idea, but it sure is an incident, that took place during terrorism. I actually felt wrong to write an inspirational /blo.ody story about terror.
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