Category: Writers Block
I huddled behind a cracked and crumbling wall. All around me i could see the destruction, the savage carnage, the demolition of my homeland. My heart beat in my chest with the strength of a thousand Indian war drums. A mixture of anger and fear pulsed through my body. I wanted to fight, and I am ashamed to say i wanted at the same time to fly. Covered in dirt, blood, and sweat, I looked up, all around me the sky was gray with smoke. The rancid smell of decay and gunpowder filled my throbbing lungs. The air was so thick I thought i could almost float in it. My homeland right before my eyes was fast becoming the river stix. All around me the screams of the dyeing and the screams of the lam inters, blended together with the sounds of automatic gunfire to make a cacophony of terror. My heart stopped, I could feel it. Behind me a twig snapped. I heard the shotgun cock. I could hear the heavy breathing coming ever closer. With every step my ear heard, my muscles twitched. I was tired. Tired of running, tired of crying, tired of everything. I had to make a stand. I will die on my feet rather then live on my knees! I moved slowly very slowly to the edge of the crumbling wall. On the way i picked up a brick. My heart thundered in my ears. For every one step the gunman took I took two. I reached the corner moments before he did. I raised the brick above my head. My breath was coming fast now. This is it I thought. To live or to die, funny I thought how the choices we make affect not only us but everyone around us. Then I saw the barrel of the gun and I froze. It moved around the wall like a black snake. slowly, probing. Then I saw a boot emerge, then a leg then a hand. I was ready Then just before I smashed the brick into the gunman's face he spotted me. We screamed into each other's faces. His was full of wide eyed fear, and mine, it was full of anger and de spare. I knew him I thought.. The brick was coming down and he took one step back but it was too late. The brick hit him and his eyelids relaxed, then closed for the last time.
Truly stunning you would have won the writing competition in Starbucks hands down...
Man, I don't know why you say you don't like your writing ...
wow...that's just amazing...It's so discriptive and full of feeling. I like it. write more.
Indeed. But it is true that a writer always critisizes their work. This however, is amazing, so full of description, emotion, such vivid imagery, please do write more, please