At long last; we have reached the 50th post!!! (Most of everyone will probably not care less) But that means I'm going to do my biggest blog post yet. This is a story I've been planning on writing for sometime now but have never gotten around to it. Tell me what you think; I really value the opinions of random strangers!!
Ash fluttered everywhere, blackening the air and sprinkling it's retched stench on whatever it's almost tendril like fumes could touch. Fires raged, the flames spicy red tongues licking buildings and lawns, charring the streets in powdery blackness. Tara coughed in a failed attempt to clear her lungs.
Someone seized her arm, cold fingers wrapping mercilessly against her skin. She jerked, the hand only tightening it's crushing grip.
"Keep still," a voice whispered in her ear, "Move and you're dead. If you do exactly what I say there's a chance, a microscopic one, that you may survive."
Tara stiffened, unconsciously holding her breath. The hand loosened ever so slightly; not enough to break away but considerably more comfortable. She felt the unmistakable urge of pressure against her back, a palm encouraging her onward. She took a shaky step forward, fear compressing in her chest. She didn't even know she was falling until the hand released it's hold on her arm and wrapped itself around her middle, pulling her against something hard. Tara caught a side long glimpse of the voice.
His long, jet black hair fell in strands over his icy blue eyes; pale skin highlighting the ghost like irises, "Careful," he whispered, pushing her gently to her feet from behind, "Now follow me." he said. He lead her around various corners and streets until they reached a black, nondescript vehicle.
"I feel like I should be scared of you," Tara got out, her voice small, "But some instinct tells me I'll die without your help."
The boy was silent for a few seconds, "You should be scared of me," he said, "But you'll probably die anyway,"
"Than why are you helping me?" she asked as he shoved her into the waiting car.
He chuckled, pulling himself up next to her, "Have you ever heard of Good and Evil?" he asked and she nodded, "Well, think of me as the enemy of your enemy. Which makes me a friend. Which makes me Good, at least to you."
"Are you Good?"
He considered that as the car sped down a lonely, ashy street, an unknown driver taking them away from the destruction, "No, I'm as Evil as they come."
Lissa
It's a lot of fun to watch your writing skills grow. Your first pieces were simple and a little shallow even if they were eloquently written and well phrased. However your later writing has great depth and meaning, you have figured out the difference between clever cliches and wording sentences so that they have an impact. I can't wait to read more from you:)
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