Kagome, Kagome

This is a diary story about an area in Japan during WW2. It is a true story of what happened to the children but I'am writing a diary 1st person perspective which is fiction. This story can be found online as a japanesse song: kagome kagome which translates to circle you, circle you. Also if you go on to www.creepypasta.com or google kagome kagome creepypasta you will find this story. This is about a girl named Helita in a Japanesse orphanage....enjoy!

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5. Bye, Bye Choko

 

Dear diary: Today a child disappeared in the orphanage room, the blonde lady told me her name was Choko and she was 6 years old. I asked the blonde lady to describe what she looked like and she told me that she had very long black hair and a purple kimono. I flipped through my book to show a girl to similar description and she told me that it was her. I didn’t know anyone by name because names were hard to remember and I remembered people by the their appearance I had drawn the girl that disappeared with rose red lips and she was being circled around by poorly drawn people in coats that I left the natural colour of white. She had needles in her arms and one needle in her neck. The little girl didn’t return for dinner either and I got scared that the Nazis may have taken her and the teacher said that it was dumb to think that because the Nazis are nice people and I wasn’t to be scared of them. I didn’t care about the missing girl but I didn’t want her to disappear because that would mean that it wouldn’t be funny because the blonde lady is 31 not 30.The blonde lady told me not to worry about her because she is fine and she would come back so I was happy for that moment and I didn’t really have problem to think about other than what we were having for dinner today. We ended up having sushi and I didn’t mind that because I like sushi but I don’t like to eat it all together because that would mean its 2 different foods in one and I don’t like mixing foods, I only like natural foods so I take little bits of the sushi apart and eat each bit, one by one. The boy that hit me yesterday said I was weird and I showed him the drawing I did of him that I found at the start of my drawing book and he said that he didn’t like it because it didn’t look like him. I drew him with needles prodding his face and body and he was screaming and the blonde lady told me I should show people drawings like that because they make people uncomfortable. The blonde lady asked if he hit me again and I said no because he didn’t but I told her he hurt my feelings because he did  because he told me he didn’t like my drawing and I sometimes spend a long time drawing them. And the blonde lady got the boy in trouble and he started crying and I was happy because he got what he deserved. That’s all, good night diary.

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