((JUST COMMENT WHAT YOU THINK! CRITICAL OPINIONS NEEDED! My English class has been nominated to create a leading idea in a book
that we will be writing through out the year. I was asked to do a diolouge that created a sense of a serious situation, but it has to have added humor. I need opinions, so ANYONE can answer. Don't waste my points on comments like, "yeah, it's good." Critizism never hurt anyone. Thank you!))
With his head shaking, he grabbed another strip and wiped around the opening to my magical red river.
I flinched, he paused; I giggled, he continued.
This process repeated several times before he actually wrapped my arm in a bandage-like way once he thought I was clean enough.
Which I was sure I was cleaner than I’d ever be, since a few layers of my skin had been scrubbed off in the process.
A small part of me felt relieved for the help, but a larger part wanted to remove the thing that stopped creating my dancing animals, it didn’t see the reason why I had to keep the creatures inside of me.
Dalton pulled my trembling fingers away from the cloth, I pouted again. “Danshing moonkies!”
When no response was received, my digits tried to snatch at the wrapping, only once again, they were forced away.
“I’m sorry Kens, I was just mad. I didn't mean to-”
My very unladylike snort cut him off, and I fell backwards onto the bed, “sorry ish-a fummy word. Sow-Reeee.”
The ceiling spun, and I laughed more. “Round and round and round, we gooo! Round and round and round, through the foresh of shnooow! Thricshe round, twice round, once round,” I stopped abruptly.
“Dalt, I forshot the resht of the sung.”
