It was early morning the next day that finally roused Leah from her restless sleep. Her eyes fluttered open and she dazed into the vast morning sky above her. A few fluffy white clouds floated peacefully while the sun dazzled the night away to make way for day to come. For a moment or two, she thought everything was normal. She heard a cockerel crowed somewhere nearby and the heavy noise of the hooves of horses. She stifled a yawn and snuggled closer to the object she slept next to. Suddenly curious, her eyes squinted at the solid object beside her. Her mother, pale and motionless rest peacefully where she had left her the night before. Her ragged clothes that did nothing to warm her from the cold were damp from the rain. Leah quickly …show more content…
Pieces of broken ceramics lay scattered on the ground making movement difficult for Leah. Fear trickled down her spine as the stench of the dead filled her nostrils. “Just exactly how many of us are alive?” She thought as her eyes continued to dart towards each rubble of the houses she passed. “Hello? Is there anyone out there? Hello?” she shouted. Nobody replied. She gathered her skirts and marched up the hill as fresh mud squelched beneath her boots. She kept her eyes peeled open for any survivors but she couldn’t see any. Leah stopped once she reached the town square with her hands on her knees gasping for air. Once she caught her breath, she stood upright and only to meet with the sickening vision before her eyes. She could feel bile building up inside her as she saw the piles of dead naked bodies mounded over one another on the once spotless floor of the square. Some were so badly burnt that their faces were barely recognizable as their flesh melted from the fire. Not far from the pile of rotting corpses, there were a stack of the dead villagers’ clothes along with other valuables. Small knives and swords and whatever weapons the bandits laid their hands on were neatly stacked together. She heard a twig snap behind her and without a moment to lose, she quickly hid herself underneath a wagon close to her. Not too long after, her ears pricked over the voices of men. “Did ye find any survivors, eh Johnny?” a rough voice
The thundering sound of hooves echoes in my ears as my horse comes barreling down the hill toward me. My whistle had caused him to go crashing through the tall grass and Queen Ann’s Lace in search of me once again. Coming to a sliding stop in front of me, I gently stroke his muzzle. Letting my hands glide over his fuzzy neck and into his jet black mane, I grab ahold and throw myself onto his strong back. We go running through the pasture, scattering wild rabbits and sending sparrows a flight. I watch them fly overhead, their brown wings leading them to rest in the big oak tree that my horse and I come to a halt underneath.
“It was my fault. I could've given him my food. He didn't have to die. I failed him,” I choked out, “I was fine, strong, I wasn't close to starved, and neither were the kids. You burn through your rations with your work in the fields, but I didn't need to eat. I could've saved him.” The wind faltered in our direction for a instant, causing smoke to blow my way and burn my eyes. It smelled strange, like the mountains.
It is pretty strange when Tretheway has not been ridden out the storm at that time, yet her ability to extend that empathy to the local residents is undeniable. Thetheway refacts all the deaths and “bodies washed away” (65) through the lens of witnesses – her family and the whole community – with emotional depth and
When I was six I wanted to be Hannah Montanna. When I was 12 I still dreamed of becoming a pop-star, but figured I could have a second job too – just in case. I’m seventeen now and I’ve have read Maya Angalou and Ralph Waldo Emerson; I’ve studied American history, marvled at astounding scientific discoveries, and cheered for political revolutions. I've traveled to different states and analyzed geological features for the aesthetic beauty and for the geological history. I've done many things, the logical step here would be then for me to pick; speak or forever hold my peace, but in all honesty, I don't know what I want to be. My six-year old self would say it's because I've seen too much, I think it's because I haven't seen enough. I want to
One night, thoroughly past her bedtime, Georgiana crept stealthily downstairs to sneak a bite of pie, even though her mother would never approve. She immediately realized a heavy drape of desolation. The only noise was her heart beating to the rapid rhythm of the twitching fan. Georgiana thought that no one would be awake at one in the morning. She slipped through the doorway into the kitchen. For an instant, her heart stopped. A dreadful sight stood in her way. An innocent and isolated individual lay with his hand grasping for life, but it was already over. Taking a step back, she
"Phil, can you please get off the couch and continue cleaning the kitchen?" Dan walked towards the television with a broom in his right hand and turned off the anime Phil was binge watching. "Jess is almost home and I don't want her walking into a pig sty!"
Aviane. Leah Martin Strauss somberly fingered the blister of pink pills from it’s nondescript white and pink wrapper with a resigned sigh. For a soon to be sixteen year old young girl, getting on birth control for the first time is usually an exciting, transformative occasion but Leah had a far more pessimistic outlook: She might just need it to protect herself. She gingerly peeled the small pill out of the blister and ingested it; just one week from that day, she could very well be happy to have taken this precaution.
As I walked, the air of this haunted, dreadful and sorrowful land had sucked the life out of everything and roared as humanity began to disappear. As I carried on walking, I noticed that the small fraction of light was getting smaller and smaller, until it had been engulfed into a think black ash like smoke. Aggressively, the wind walked past the building with its cruddy feeling, blowing away all signs of life. Deeper and deeper into the land was a burning car door. The fire roared and crackled. The roaring and crackling of the burning car door merged with the aggressive air and created the loudest sounds ever heard on land. Growing darker, the skies made me feel nauseous. The fear of not waking up if a human fell asleep towered
Robberies’ in the villages began to take place nine out of ten nothings taken the shops moreover, destroyed, merchandise smashed and scatter, windows broken, shelving ripped to pieces. If by chance the owner was there his body mutilated, slashed to pieces. In some cases, the body hung on the wall like a trophy. Always the same story three men on black horses, all dressed in black, wearing black capes with hoods, their faces covered and black gloves, shoving people aside, never saying a word, as abruptly they appear they disappear. Farms raided their homes burned and again, the stories were always the same, describing the same three men, black horses. The three men and their horses would just vanish in a cloud of dust.
Stella Connor’s guilt has driven her away from Atlanta and her job as an EMT. She’s running from a past consumed by her failure to save a child followed by her sister’s betrayal. After dumping her cheating fiancé, she’s ready to stay clear of men.
Luke listened, dumbfounded to Rosalie's dismissal of everything he had just said. She hadn't listened to him at all. It was almost like she was intentionally ignoring or distorting every point he made. What she lacked in logical follow through, she made up for, partially, in rhetorical skill. No matter how wrongheaded her conclusions were, she delivered them convincingly.
A scream bubbled up inside her as strong hand grasped her mouth, muffling any chance for help. His hot breath tickled her cheek as they disappeared into the woods just outside of town. Her eyes scanned in every direction, trying to find an escape, but his large body was all around her, enveloping her like the fog that was rolling in in an ungodly manner. It blanketed the forest like a mother tucking her children in at night. The little life that Evangeline lived flashed before her eyes, most of it spent with Lila. Without much hope of survival left, she thought of the only thing she could do. A swift kick to the shin sent him hobbling in the opposite direction after dropping Evangeline to the ground. She sat in a heap covered in mud and wet leaves, staring up at her attacker who was hopping on one leg favoring his injured
A painful groan sounded from somewhere unseen in the starlight, and I cautiously approached the trees to my left. I then remembered there had been a sharp crack, like a branch breaking in a spring storm. Emma was lying on the ground on top of what used to be a low wooden fence, the blackened soles of her feet facing me. The first thing that came to mind in that moment was that she had the dirtiest feet I had ever seen, and for some reason this bothered me more than the fact that she had broken what was probably national property. She grasped my sweaty palms in hers and heaved herself up, remarkable unscathed from her tumble. I suppose she was hurting a lot more than she could currently process. The pieces of fence, slick with humidity, lay splintered at our feet. Paler wood that had been freshly exposed with the break, stared at us accusingly. Without a word we continued onto the path that cut through to her
The tickling sensation of heat bathing his face forced him to slowly open his eyes. The sun’s golden rays stunned him blurring his vision as he quickly turned away. As his eyes adjusted, he was surprised to find the absence of his father. His heart started to pound and all the confidence and security that he had built up melted in the space of a few seconds. He jumped up flinging his sleeping bag on to the ground and looked around taking note of his surroundings. To him, it felt as if the trees were suddenly sent out to attack him like stealthy assassins gaining on him as they moved side to side from the winds steady breeze. The faint noise of bugs and animals chattering sounded like the grunt of a predator before it hunts its prey. A colossal cloud
Tabitha leaped a few feet in front of the dead savage Maci killed, in attempt to jump over him. As her feet soared over the savage, one of the runners dived toward her, slapping her ankles in midair. Tabitha fell roughly onto the concrete, tucking her head and shoulder toward her chest. She rolled a few times, reached for her bow and arrow, stood up, aimed, and pulled the bow’s string as far back as she could. She panted heavily and her body trembled immensely, as the she watched the four runners guzzle the savage’s organs. She kept her back turned to us as she wiped her face. When she finished, she sprinted behind us leaving the runners and the savages in the rugged town. Though we were outside of their town we still heard screams from the men who were still in town. The runners were devouring them. We even heard a few of the men begging us to come back, we ignored their cries and continued running. I peered at my little brother and saw how terrible he felt hearing the savages cry for help. His heart was much bigger than mine. I didn’t feel sorry for a single bastard in that town, each and every last one of them deserved to be eating alive by those cannibals. I began to talk again, once the sounds of screams and moans were no longer in my