THE DARK KNIGHT By Lili Daskais
Slowly turning round and round, Your flowing hair twirling around your face like a ballerina, Your feet magically moving in small, delicate little steps, Gracefully, you leap up into the air and time seems to stretchhhh out like a rubber band, You end in a tiny fragile stop. Then suddenly, the dream is over. He appears like a dark knight, unwelcoming and cold, hard rock. Edward. I say his name with disgust, like spitting out brussel sprouts. No, worse. Like spitting out rough, cutting metal, like spitting out sharp, shivering, muddy ice, like spitting out plain, empty plastic... And it all ends with a single punch.