Hey, this is my first story on here so don't be too harsh. Obviously I want creative criticism but I hope at least one person likes it. I am mainly looking for advice on how to improve it.
Thank you.
Blood-soaked and almost lifeless, the girl slowly dragged her unwilling body out of the debris.
Breathing heavily, she forced her body up, her legs and arms dangling pathetically - giving her the look of a tarnished rag doll. She tasted the sickly taste of blood swilling in her mouth. The tears streaming down her scarred face, she stared at the carnage that lay around her. Below her, the corpse of a young woman lay, her head a few metres way. A wave of nausea washed over her, her heart was somewhere by her toes, and she noticed her straggly hazel hair was now stained with vomit and blood. Staggering, she made her way to the gates of the park, slowly trying to put the pieces together of what had been such an awful, awful day…..
“Big Brother’s watching,” Athlea muttered mindlessly, playfully caressing the tattered copy of 1984 that rested on her lap.
“What you on about?” Roka exclaimed, causing the content of his mouth (lemonade and a cheese sandwich) to shoot into the air in a grotesque firework display and land with a distinctive squelch on his gleaming trainers.
“Yuck, you pig, how old are you?” Athlea turned away from the book (for only a moment) to observe the mass of saliva and lunch that Roka was flicking away with his hand, embarrassed , before burrowing her head amidst the pages yet again.
Grudgingly wiping the stains from his once sparkling trainers, Roka glanced at the book (who still read books?) that his sister was flicking through anxiously.
She sat, cross legged on the bench, bent over like an old man and her straggly hazel hair burying her face. She stared open mouthed , looking bemused and yet enthralled at the same time.
Her nimble fingers flicked the pages in a flurry, her head growing ever closer to the book the further she read, as if it were about to engulf her at any moment.
Roka stared curiously at his baby sister, wondering how simply an array of clever-sounding words and the occasional smart-alec anecdote could invade someone’s mind in such a way it made them almost alien to their surroundings. Roka was convinced a bomb could have dropped in New Caverns Park that day, and Athlea would not even have looked up- perhaps to mutter a slight “Hmmm…how very odd.” before returning to her book without hesitation.
“1984? That’s ancient!!” Roka said, eyeing the book curiously “A thousand years old! What is it - a history book?”
“No, it’s fiction. George Orwell’s idea of what the year 1984 could be like,” She explained, without taking her eyes off the book “Fascinating, actually”
Uninterested, Roka’s wandering eye began to waver to a group of girls who lay sunbathing by the lake. But excited by Roka’s intrigue Athlea began to retell the plot, only for it to burst from her mouth in a pot of mumbles and excited whispers - almost inaudible by the distracted Roka.
“Andinroom101yourgreatestfearwaitsanbiogbrotherswathcing so” She ranted on, her eyes glowing with excitement: Well, in chapter 4 there…ARRRRRRRRRRGHHHH!”
Athlea’s body slumped off the bench and her body hit the floor with a deafening crack. Athlea felt as if her head were being crushed together. Like her brain was being stretched and pulled and ripped. Her eyes felt as if they could explode and fire burned in her throat. All she saw was Roka leaning over her, his face contorted and his words nothing but ghostly whispers.
It was happening again.
It had all started a few months ago, and now it had become weekly. The crushing headache, the temperature soaring, Athlea thought every time that it was her last. She could see visions in her mind, taunting her and screaming in her face.
Athlea saw Roka pulling a bottle of pills from somewhere and pouring them into her mouth. She gurgled like an infant, and then the pain began to ease.
Pulling herself up, she sat on the bench and began to weep.
“How are you?” Roka asked, his face’s complexion matching the vanilla ice-cream that had dropped to the floor seconds before.
“I thought I was going to die,” She sobbed “It’s awful. But it only happened when..”
Athela paused. Her eyes scanned around them. She nodded at a woman who appeared to be picking apples.
“Look,” She said, her eyes staring deep into Roka’s “I have something to tell you.”
And as and Roka began their quiet, life-threatening conversation, a small unnoticeable flower below them, slowly rotated to face them. Then, a miniscule click could be heard and the flower slyly extended. Slowly but certainly, its authentic stalk extended until the amber petals brushed below the bench. It did a 360 degree spin and then all was ready - the recording had begun.
“It’s a possibility though, isn’t it?” Athlea enquired, finally shoving her book in the badge-swamped rucksack that rested against her leg. “When you think about it…?”
It took a few minutes (and a sharp poke in the ribs) before Roka would grudgingly respond.
“No, it‘s rubbish!” He snapped, flicking his hands in dismissal and gave a superior snort that caused Athela’s fists to clench “What? Us being controlled, I don’t think so!!”
“No!” Athlea cried, exasperated. “I mean us being watched. In fact when you think about it, it’s quite a possibility. I’ve noticed things. And dad, dad always said..”
“Oh, don’t start about Dad!” Roka shot back suddenly, with an unfamiliar angry voice. “We all know his death was accidental! Stop bringing it up!!”
Never to be defeated , Athlea determinedly continued her rant:
“I mean, if I’m honest, this idea has been on my mind for awhile. Dad may have been right, and I’ve noticed some other things too. Perhaps, this isn’t the right time, but I’ve met people. And they believe what dad said too. We…”
As Athela quietly continued her debate, the flower below was now taller than ever and spinning around, recording every letter that poured from her mouth. The recording was then sent through cascades of wires and cables, so ingeniously small they were undetectable.. Those wires would’ve connected to the mainframe which was then sent to a secret building, about 123m under ground where Athela and Roka were sat. The wire then was plugged up to a tv screen along with an array of other cameras, all recording normal, pleasant conversations.
The youth that sat, observing every monitor was around twenty five, and his eyes were blood red as he stared at the screens around him, his tongue poking out through concentration. He was scrawny and pale, and had clean-cut blonde hair with a squint fridge. His large glasses magnified his eyes, and made his other features look minute compared to his towering eyes . His lips seemed to droop and his face was almost lifeless, as if any joy he had ever felt had been vacuumed from his soul. He typed occasionally, his fingers often clumsily pressing the wrong letter, for him to curse quietly, with a satisfied grin of mischief on his face - like a child who’s just cheeked the teacher. There was something about this man which made him unforgettable, and for a few people he would be.
“It’s a possibility though isn’t it?”
Athlea’s impeccable accent flowed through the screen and soon the images of the two teens were on the monitor, chatting happily in the ironically sun-laden New Cavern Park.
Instantly, the man was alerted to the conversations. As it continued, he felt suddenly sick and could swear he felt his heart stop for a few seconds.
This was it.
Speaking into his microphone, he uttered:
“We have a code amber-red, I repeat amber red. We have a suspicion and possibly more evidence. Talks of a group and a missing father. Could it be Paulo’s kids?!
There was a silence on the other end, before footsteps could be heard, racing up to him in a hurry to calm the situation. There was as expectation for a crowd of aggressive thugs to burst through the doors, but to everyone’s surprise one middle- aged man in a classy suit strode confidently through the door, and after dismissing the other workers approached our friend, with an icy smile.
The man (let’s call him Fred) was by now quivering, the sweat tricking down his forehead.
He gasped with angst at the man’s eyes, which he could only describe as demonic. They were huge, and Fred felt as if they were burning holes through his skin. His smile was equally as fake, gleaming white and with a crocodile quality to them - Fred was waiting for the “snap”.
“Good man, he said suddenly, causing Fred to jump “This is good, this girl obviously has suspicions and we have located her “group”. I hate to say this, but it’s time to drop the Mtertram.T12.”
“No way!” Fred cried, overwhelmed by his own dismay “We can’t! So what if the girl does, there are at least 50 people around her who’ll die too!”
The boss’s smile faded fast.
“That’s life,” He replied, with no hint of remorse in his voice “We can’t have people knowing, and I have a feeling that other members are around. People are getting more suspicious of us now, we can’t take any risks! And if she is Paulo’s daughter..”
“But-” Fred began, but stopped, realizing he was fighting a lost battle. He gulped and hung his head.
The boss sighed, and then spoke into his microphone.
*********
“Some of the gang members are here,” Athlea whispered, glancing around “We’ve planned it. Look, I don‘t want to say too much”
Roka suddenly raised a finger to his sister’s lips, the grounds of the park began to shake. Trees quivered and ripples were seen in the lake. Athlea raised an eyebrow inquisitively:
“What the…?”
And then it happened.
The bomb exploded, throwing Athlea and Roka into the air and crashing into a tree. Smoke swirled in the air .The park transformed from lush green to blood red in seconds. People burst into a million pieces, trees were thrown like matchsticks and blood splattered everywhere. There were cries and moans, coughs and splutters, desperate shrieks of “HELP!”. The death was everywhere, corpses slumped in the now crimson lake, and the stench of vomit hung in the air.
Ten seconds later, and the girl stood there again, still witnessing the carnage around her. She heard police sirens in the distance and a few figures were now crawling out of the wreckage. She didn’t care though, her mind was reeling. She tried to put the pieces together, something was starting to fit. Almost…the wheels in her mind turned.
“They were right,” She whispered hoarsely, her bottom lip beginning to quiver. “They are…”
The dam burst open and the tears cascaded down her ashen cheeks, bouncing off her neck and dripping on the floor, mixing with the blood.
With a deep, teary breath she turned- and ran. Ran past the bloody pond, now adorned with trees and deckchairs, past the bodies whose eyes she could not meet, past the tattered copy of 1984 which lay intact by an upturned bench. She ran, the memories of the day flying past her, pricking at her mind.
She ran for life, with knowledge that was causing her brain to ache. For her, life would never be the same…
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