He awoke, gasping for the air that seemed to be burning his lungs. There was too much smoke in the area. He would have to keep moving.
The boy had known better than to sleep out in the open like that, but his fatigue had gotten the better of him. He felt the heat of the nearby burning building and quickly went on his way. His legs and feet screaming at him for more rest, his stomach howling for nourishment, his head spinning and the hot feeling of his blood, once again running down his forehead and nose, the boy couldn't help but think back a year, before any of this had happened.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Insanity is forced
TerrorThis is a story I am writing for my creative writing class, and is somewhat inspired (a complete rip off) from my favorite show, and the chapters are named after the songs that I listened to while coming up with the story. It's no where near done...
