<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8469465989905258694</id><updated>2011-09-01T12:15:47.484-07:00</updated><category term='childhood'/><category term='woods'/><category term='Fantasy'/><category term='spirits'/><category term='trees'/><title type='text'>the anomalous thoughts of Erzi U.</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://y78ilm.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8469465989905258694/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://y78ilm.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Erzi.Udab</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16616213082762119167</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_91UXj2Fli9E/TPc5RJwX8GI/AAAAAAAAABQ/8ogBo-ZEGwA/S220/20371_104866986198814_100000265404140_116813_5849054_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8469465989905258694.post-266837385807375808</id><published>2010-11-28T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T20:33:48.743-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='childhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='woods'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trees'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirits'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fantasy'/><title type='text'>The Girl In the Lace Dress</title><content type='html'>I was walking home from school one day. It was a Wednesday, so I was  hurrying home to do my homework. There was so much to do, it felt like  all my teachers had gotten together and decided to attack me with  homework. I was walking with my head down, following my footsteps with  my eyes. The sound of laughter caught my attention and my head snapped  up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Standing there, in the middle of the field, was a girl, no older then 8.  She was wearing this beautiful lace dress, the kind that you would wear to an Easter Brunch. She laughed again, and I looked  around for the kid’s parents, but no one was around except for her and  me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Where are your parents, sweetie,” I asked, walking towards the girl.  She just laughed and took off running. Alarmed that she would hurt  herself, I ran after her. She ran into the woods across the street from  my house. I followed her, which was hard. All the textbooks in my bag  weren’t helping me run any faster. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sweetie, stop running. I’m here to help you. We need to get you back to  your parents. I’m sure they’re really worried.” She refused to listen,  though, and kept running. Branches smacked my face and body, and I could  feel multiple scratches bleeding. But, something about this girl made  me want to follow her, I wanted to protect her, keep her safe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She continued to run, and I continued to follow her, the green scenery  of the woods flashing by. Every once and a while she would turn around  to make sure I was still there. It’s like we were playing a game.  It reminded me of when I used to play flashlight tag with my neighbors  in the summer. Of course that was a long time ago, all I did during the  summer now was my AP work and my job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="content"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three years ago, when I became a freshman in high school, it was like my  future flashed before my eyes. There were so many things I had to  accomplish and excel at. I was no longer a child in middle school, I was  an adult. Just like that I had gone from being a child to being an  adult, and it felt good. Now following this girl endlessly through the  woods, it gave me a nostalgic feeling, like I was child again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I did&amp;nbsp;&lt;nobr&gt;&lt;/nobr&gt;start  high school, I never wanted to be a child again. Children were  immature, and naive. They couldn’t do anything for themselves, someone  always had to help them. It was like they were dependent on another life  for their life. I wanted to be dependent on my own life, not someone  else’s. I never thought I would like feeling like a child again, but  running through the woods like there was no tomorrow, made me wish I  were in middle school again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came to a clearing in the woods. In the center was a big oak tree,  and carved into the tree were the initials LH. My name. I remembered  when I was ten we had my dad come out to carve them into the tree. It  all came rushing back then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we moved here, there were no other houses around. Nothing except  woods. One day while I was outside playing with my toys, I found a path,  and blindly followed it. It lead to this clearing. I remember I spent  the whole day there, and didn’t come home until the police found me and  brought me back to my very worried parents. I had been missing for eight  hours, it was like I was in my own world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gently rubbed my initials on the tree. The girl laughed, she had  stopped running, and was standing in a patch of sunlight giggling. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Hey, you stopped running,” I said, and started to walk over to her.  “Now, let’s get you back to your parents.” I walked towards her and  watched as she faded into the sun, and then disappeared. Her laughter  hang in the air several seconds after she left. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled. I sat down in the crook in the big oak tree, and started to do my homework.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8469465989905258694-266837385807375808?l=y78ilm.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://y78ilm.blogspot.com/feeds/266837385807375808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://y78ilm.blogspot.com/2010/11/girl-in-lace-dress.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8469465989905258694/posts/default/266837385807375808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8469465989905258694/posts/default/266837385807375808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://y78ilm.blogspot.com/2010/11/girl-in-lace-dress.html' title='The Girl In the Lace Dress'/><author><name>Erzi.Udab</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16616213082762119167</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_91UXj2Fli9E/TPc5RJwX8GI/AAAAAAAAABQ/8ogBo-ZEGwA/S220/20371_104866986198814_100000265404140_116813_5849054_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
