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She runs. No-one knows where she is going. Nobody is there.

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World Class Pedro Sanchez She runs. No-one knows where she is going. Nobody is there. Across a patchwork field of nails; charging like a determined hound on the glorious hunt through acres of melancholy steel Daffodils and patch of rusty Daisies. Her delicate cotton figure; now torn and ragged, was once a delight to be placed in the tender fingers of a young Hispanic boy. Where'd you go? I miss you so. Seems like it's been forever, that you've been gone. Pedro Sanchez felt like all of his Christmas' had come at once. After becoming class president at his previous school his family transferred from Texas to Ohio after a rather violent gang war. Pedro himself was a rather quiet guy and a bit of an outcast. Yet this time he feels like he's going to make it, although he left a large emotional section of his life behind. He left her. He's going to make it big time. He's out to prove that he's got nothing to prove. A Hispanic boy just strode into our classroom. His brown moustache is rather overpowering, apart from that, he looks like every other new person to join our school. He caught me staring. ...read more.


He got out of the shower and strode dolefully to the medical box. After carefully dressing his wounds he sat down on his uncle's dusty sofa to watch some television. That was Pedro's day. Here I am. My front door. The usual dull creak as I slowly open it. "Hello?" Suddenly a great noise erupts out of the inky blackness inside the Pentritch mansion. My home. "Happy birthday!" a smile creeps over my face. My best features revealed. "Thank you!" I hug my parents and open my presents, but all of the while I'm thinking of you. Science. Pedro was quite alright at science; but seeing as he hadn't quite made any friends yet, it was going to make group-work tough. Out of the corner of his eye, Pedro saw somebody trudging towards him. "Hey what's your name?" said the gangly youth; he had curly ginger hair in a kind of afro style. His skinny figure and rather gormless expression gave off the impression that he was the kind of person that feels, like Pedro did that day, like the new kid. Every lesson. "Pedro, what's yours?" Pedro asked, "James, will you work with me?" the boy pondered. Pedro gave him an awkward glance then replied with a simple "sure." ...read more.


He was down and out. My party is wrecked. I hate her. I hate him for hitting Pedro. They made him run, they ruined my day. They ruined it all. Tonight I was gunning for him. Tonight was supposed to be the night. Pedro sat in his living room waiting for James to ring the bell. He peered out of the window whilst slowly dreading the hours of school ahead. James slumped out of his house, he hesitated then stared at Pedro's house. He then began to walk to school. Pedro dashed out of the front door and caught up rapidly with James. Pedro grabbed James and turned him round. James' eyes were filled with tears. The boys looked at each other and after a while, both smiled. They began the long walk to school. Pedro felt good about one thing. It's lunchtime. Pedro nearly got hurt again, lucky that he's quite fast. I have to find him before he leaves. Pedro dodged out of the school gates and vaulted the surrounding fence. They hate him, they all hate him. Pedro slumped down against. He heard footsteps. Feet alert, he jumped up, just as he got up, she came round the corner, Julie. She walked over to Pedro "No more running." She said softly then stroked her hands across his face and kissed him, her light soft lips felt genuine. She had found him. No more running. ...read more.

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