Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-33683284-20171118021635

Hey, I'm starting an ongoing story to help me with my English skills, I'm a little dyslexic but i really want to work on my writing, so any feedback would be a big help. If this parts to small let me know and i can work on longer intervals. Thank you for your time :)

The story

I don’t remember anything, I know how to drive, survive and I can’t seem how to forget how to smoke, but the weird thing is, I know that I’ve forgot stuff. Faces, names and all the stuff that I know I should care about. There are however, three things I know for certain, foods scarce, people aren’t around, and there’s an ominous beacon of light that I want to be everywhere but. It’s like it shoots out from the earth’s crust and tries to break the sky with all the worlds’ apathy and hatred.

The weirdest thing about all of it is theirs this feeling I have to do things, not like motivation or obligation, but a sinking feeling when I try and detract from what my guts telling me. The buildings seem old, very old, like old houses that haven’t seen a coat of paint since the roller was invented, and those made of brick seem cracked and dishevelled. I’ve stopped looking though, most nights I just go straight in an old pick up I found with the keys still in it. I’ll stop to look for living things, all the produce stuffs not exactly food anymore. Usually rats, they don’t look well but they cook OK and I never find anything better.

I had to leave to city, nothing lives there, but there’s still something moving. Don’t get me wrong, I looked every time I heard a scratch or a scurry but when the scratches became bangs and he scurries became stomps, I realised that the meet up might not be in my favour. That’s led me to the wonderful world of not knowing where I’m going, I’m coming up to a one road town, nothing special. Wait… what is that? It’s like a shadow; I’ll turn on the flood lights. Holy shit that’s a kid! An honest to god, real life kid, OK what do I do? As I drive up, I do it slowly, looking at every nook and cranny, but there doesn’t seem to be anything sketchy about it. He’s curled up in a fetal position and doesn’t looks all right.

“Yo kid are you OK?” He says nothing, he looks so weak, was he left behind, or… I’ve got to get out there, damn, I don’t like this. I open my door and take one last look around, still nothing, so I slink closer. I crouch in front of the boy, he looks at me, he’s still there, but by how much, only god knows, he won’t talk and he looks like he’s seen some shit, behind him in an ally way, I notice a bag and some sheets, has he lived here? Alone?

Then out of nowhere, I hear a primal screech, its loud as all hell, but it seems weak, “kid we have to go, this isn’t safe” but he stays put. Something creeps round the corner, first a hand, flat and struggling *scrape thump* then comes a body, twisted and mangled, I don’t know what the hell it is, but I wouldn’t call it human. It feels like its sucking the light from the world, crawling, cancelling the refraction from everything it touches.

“ fuck this” I grab the kid, he’s light, to light, but there’s no time to worry, that thing seems to know that were there, *scrape thump** scrape thump* it’s coming, faster than before, with whatever strength it was gifted by its … hunger? Don’t care, lets go, I throw the kid in the passenger’s seat and kick the peddle with the same force my hearts breaking my ribs with. I’ve got to book it, there’s a hell of a lot of road between there and wherever we end up but 10 miles down, I pry my grip from ten and two and I look at the kid. He hasn’t move and his eyes are close “come on kid, this shits not cool” nothing, not as much as a grown, I hit the brakes, I shake him, nothing.

Think, think, I look frantically around the car, a couple of bottles of water I found, a couple of bones, shit, wait, the sun guard. I pull it down and rip that stupid mirror off. I place it carefully under the kids nose and I stop, head to toe, top to bottom I can’t move, even my heart skips a beat. 3… 2… 1…. There’s a cloud, small but there. The little shits not dead. For the first time I can remember I relax, my back slumps and I close my eyes, it burns a little and I feel tears role down my cheeks. Followed by uncontrollable rage, kicking and punching the dashboard that seemed to be the only barrier between me and whatever was out there.

I take an hour to set up camp and smoke like a nervous mother that’s been called into school. I catch a couple of vermin I find, I’ve got a little too good at catching these things but its food and the kid needs some. For the first time in 3 days I feel like a can sleep, be it from relief or just plain old depravation. 