The Missing Pages: The Lost Soul
Published by Robi Joyce at Smashwords
Copyright 2013 Robi Joyce
It was flying. Where was it? What is it? It was just flying. Nobody knew about it. Nobody ever saw it. I just soared through the air, undetected. There were old myths about it. 'Nobody has ever seen it. It must be because the ones that have, are dead.' Everyone doubted the myths. They thought the idea was ludicrous. But I know the truth.
One night, I was just sitting in my room, trying to draw. It was hopeless. But I kept on trying. Suddenly I hear a loud bang from outside. The sound knocked everything off my desk, including the paper I was drawing on. I thought it was my brother, playing with some Illegal fireworks again. I didn't know how wrong I was. I walked outside, ready to shout, and there I saw it. A small, round object, sitting where our old willow had been. I walk up to it, wondering what it was. I didn't want to touch it, just in case. But my curiosity got the better of me. I picked it up. I examined it. I seemed to have a somewhat reddish greenish glow. It was quite warm.
I carried it into my room, and set it down on the table. I examined it more closely. There seemed to be many tiny holes in it, leading all the way through. I picked up my things off the floor, got myself a pen and a piece of paper, then started jotting down every single feature. I was so... intrigued by it. After finishing two pages worth of writing, I got a new page, and drew. I didn't know what I was drawing, but I did. What did I draw? I drew the thing. I drew it flying through the sky. I drew it's adventures to different places. I drew its feelings. I drew it all. I kept having to grab a new page as the last had absolutely no space on it at all. I could draw for hours. Days. Months. Years, even. Yet I couldn't. It felt like the wrong place, and time.