Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-36393004-20181007040949

Ok, I have this idea and I started writing. I know it isn't finished but I want a take on what I have so far. I don't 'want to commmit too much time into something if it has no future.

A soft breeze brushed against his face, the August sun still warm on his cheeks. Collin laid amongst the brush of what had once been a corn field, the world around him quiet and peaceful. His mother called his name from the back porch, stirring him from his daydream. He stood up and looked across the field to see her waving for him to come back. His feet had to make large strides to avoice the brush and often times he would stumble. His mother's calls became more urgent and the tone in her voice caused him to look up again. The sky became far brighter than it should have been, the clouds being scorched by a falling object.

Collin jolted from his dream, his breathing erratic at first, but calmed quickly. It was the same dream, every night. It was a relic of the life he once had. He would think back to his mother and father, his tiny little single-wide trailer plopped in an old corn field in that tiny little town of Alabama. Even the name of the place was a ghost to him now. All that remained was ash and names meant little. He knew he was somewhere between Georgia and North Carolina but that was as close of a guess he could make. The world had become so much different after The Fall.

He gathered his things in the olive drab satchel he had found amongst the debris of his father's things. There was little to save but he managed to salvage some clothing and canned goods. It had taken him a long time to leave home but when he realize help was not coming for the only survivor of his home, he knew he had to look for help. He had learned a lot in the few months he had been alone, being cautious being the most important. Collin stepped out the gaping hole within the half-broken grocery store he had taken shelter in just as the sun attempted to light the sky. The color was distorted to  crimson through the haze that remained in the air, but he knew it was dawn.

Collin removed his father's survival guide from the pack before tossing it on his back. He had read it multiple times, along with the Bible his grandmother had given him. It was the only two books he had been able to save from his home. For that he had been lucky, one kept him sane and the other kept him alive. He tried to remember the things his father had taught him and wished he had paid more attention. His feet shuffled through the debris of another tiny town that no longer had a name. It had been weeks since he had see another person, which had frightened him at first but now it was a relief.

When Collin was young he had always thought that most people were good. He had the naive notion that if he truly needed help he could find it within walking distance. His neighbors had always seemed like nice people. His dream was shattered after the event. It was shocking to what lengths people would go to in order to survive. He witnessed his old bus driver put a bullet in a woman's head for a can of Spaghetti-O's. There was no going back after that. He could not even remember the last time he had spoken. He only let his father's 9 mm Baretta do the talking.

By the time the sun had rested directly above him he came upon a large sign that read, "Welcome to South Carolina". Collin stood stoic, the words almost alien to him. He had never been this far from home. He had tried to find his aunt in Georgia but the landmarks had been so distorted from the damage he could not discern his true location. Everything was burnt and broken, even him. He brushed away tears from his eyes as he continued forward into the blank canvas before him and wondered if anything would be created here ever again.

Cars lined both lanes of the highway he traversed. Bodies lay frozen in time within each seat. The television broadcast had told them to evacuate and they all tried. What the report did not inform them of was the fact that there was nowhere to run to. Collin stopped to examine each vehicle, looking for anything of use. His eyes rested on a small carseat in the back of an SUV, the skeletal remains of a child still secured tightly inside. His fingers brushed across his face, feeling the scars from his own burns and thinking of his younger brother. He had to shake off his despair, he could not break down in the open, it was not safe. Nowhere was.

Collin passed through what was probably once a bustling main street, crumpled buildings greeted him at every step. The sun was falling and he knew he would need shelter. The night had brought its own pitfalls. The more troublesome members of society had taken over the dark. Most of them had learned that people moved at night to avoid detection and had started hunting in the twilight hours. He made sure to not be their prey, finding shelter in an abandoned gas station. He had always hated the dark but this was something different. Now that the moon no longer guided the night, it was like being plunged into oblivion.

His body curled up behind a crumpled countertop, resting his head upon his satchel. Clouds rolled in the distance, tinted purple by the ash of the sky. He could smell the tainted moisture that filtered the air. There was a storm on the horizon, which meant there would be less movement in the night. The raging of mother nature use to frighten him as a child, but it was a shield in times like these. Collin knew he would be able to sleep soundly for the first time in over two weeks and his lips curled slightly into a smile as lightning split the sky. His eyes fluttered in the darkness and was lulled to sleep by the rhythm of thunder. 