“Now, are you sure you saw that many?” “Yes. There were fifteen of them” Fifteen survivors. He was blatantly lying to me. No one had seen that many all together for a very long time. In fact, it had been so long since we had even seen a group of more than three which is what gave away his lie. I hitched my pants up higher onto my hollowed hips, when did they become so small I wondered. We had been away from out setup for a few days now with limited food and I was trying to give as much food to Him as possible as he was still growing and needed all the nutrients and energy he could get. I guess I must not have been eating enough though because my weight loss was blatantly visible. “Well I don’t believe you and we need to get going, come on back down to Earth and lets go.” He stumbled behind me wearily and we started on the final leg of our journey back.
We walked in silence for too long. Silence took me into my memories, made me revisit what I missed most and reminded me of my nightmares. I was slouching in the sun at a café in Venice when Xander said something that made us all erupt in to an uncontrollable fit of giggles. We had just got out of the car after our road trip from Ant’s yaya’s house in Oia where we had been staying for a few weeks as part of our travel gap year. Next thing I know Ariana’s ordering us a surprise meal as none of us speak Venetian and can’t understand what she’s saying to the waiter. Ant starts up the conversation this time making some comment on the buildings around us and when they were first made. He was good at this, random facts that would never be useful to us but that were always interesting to listen to. I drift off to the sound of his soothing voice rolling out more facts about the hottest temperatures in Venice while I lay still like a statue in the very heat he’s talking about.
I lazily kick the leafy camouflage off the top of the door to the small underground hatch we use as a pantry. I take two onions out and start dicing straight onto our wooden bench top, I can’t remember where I last put our chopping board. He is getting impatient and hungry but again I let myself drift off into my memories anyway. It’s the After Day. One of my least favourite memories. I’m looking, searching for anything. A clue. A familiar face. But I can’t find anything except a boy, right there in the middle of the road. Alone. I tell myself to leave him, you’ll have a higher chance of survival on your own, just leave him there. But I can’t, not alone, so I grab him and run. I run far away.
Getting him in to bed is always impossible but tonight he goes down within minutes. His scraggly blonde curls cover his hidden hazel eyes He must be tired from our journey and I know I should be too but I can’t help but stay awake. This happens most days, I drift off throughout the day into memories and nightmares then when night falls I can’t do anything but close my eyes and think. Think whether we’re still safe here, whether anyone knows we’re here, whether the cities are still out there, whether other people are out there, if they’re still out there. Eventually I open my eyes and all I see see is darkness, I turn over and look through our little leaf and twig sky light we built last month and see the universe. The sparkling fire balls in the sky look like little white dots from down here, beautiful. I scan the sky and then I see it, it reminds me of her every time and calms me to sleep. The five white dots shaped like a cross.
1 Comment
Add Yours →This is working well as a ‘first person’ piece. There are very few distinctive elements that reflect the “Dystopian” genre – and you’re somewhat deviating from the form expected of the start of the first chapter of a novel – as you’ve moved into ‘narrative’ very quickly, while over-looking or rushing the establishment of setting.
Rather than writing on, write back into what you have, adding these layers of description.
Work on:
Diction. Your word choice is sometimes quite straight-forward, and at times even borders on cliche. Remember the opportunity you have to develop rich nominal phrases to create atmosphere.
Syntax. Develop a greater array of sentence structures, and use these for more deliberate effect. Remember our work in relation to fronted prepositions, and consider using more of these for the development of a sense of ‘place’.
Sensory Appeal. Ensure you take time to engage your reader’s senses. For example, what do the character’s too-large trousers actually look/feel/smell like? Do you have to tell us what she’s thinking about her waist getting smaller, or can you show us that instead through her actions and what is seen?