The Lost Hero review
It’s a quiet evening, but all I hear are the constant tapping of soles. The occasional puddle slashing all over me. If I was lucky it would reach my face allowing me to get at least a drop on my hot sweaty face. My name is Peter Johnson and I am 10 years old. I have been on the run ever since I was 7.
A red and blue light blind me for a second before I realized what it was. I could see them all around me with nowhere to run. A sound I recognized echoed into the night followed by painful shot in my chest. I fell to the ground hard and didn’t move. I found that there was somewhere to go, Up.
Created by: Will McCausland