The job was extremely hard and the weather made it even more difficult. The hot sun seemed to be burning brighter than ever taking pleasure in adding to his pain. However, he could not give up. He would make his way to the checkpoint.
He was done being berated by his peers and living under the shadow of his glorious older brother who had successfully completed his training, turning out to be the best in his batch.
He wanted to prove a point. He wanted to show the world that Jacob Smith could deal with problems too. And so he carried on ignoring his parched throat and the fact that due to the dry weather of the desert his lips were chapped and bleeding.
His back ached due to the sack of heavy rocks all the trainees were supposed to carry. He was bent down in order to support it. His posture had been like this since at least six hours or so and now moving even an inch caused extreme shots of agony to run through his body.
Drops of sweat dripped down his forehead from his hair. His shirt was soaked despite the extremely dry weather of the desert. He gritted his teeth and repeated the mantra in his head, "I will not give up. I will win. I will make it to the checkpoint. I will not give up."
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Writing Prompts
RandomA series of writing prompts that I came across and the short paragraphs that I wrote using them. -OreoGirl16
