Abbee asked me to write something for her history homework. Since this is currently where I save written things I am going to save it here for now. Not sure if I like it. It's a first draft but I think there's something there. Inspired by my present zombie obsession and the fact that I found my grade 12 creative writing portfolio.
My nostrils are aflame with the smell of blood soaked smoke and I choke back the airborne gun powder that clings to my dry throat. I know this is hell because we pray for death. When I’m sleeping, when I think I’m sleeping, I see the dead crawl. They reach and moan and clutch at my boots as I openly cry. But, I am paralyzed. My punishment is that I must stand firm, unable to close my eyes or make a single primal noise from the guttural depths of my instincts. I must stand and face what I have created, I am a witness to the horror of our chaos, I must pay my final respects the world I have set on fire. They promised me glory but all they could offer was dirt. Glorified and adorned in the blood of my peers I stand and regret, I remorse, I beg to the God I am no longer sure of. I ask for forgiveness but realize the ridiculousness of my request. What forgiveness could ever give me back the sanity of a goodnight’s sleep?
1 comment:
I have a love for zombies, too. And vampires....mostly vampires, though.
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