WRITING OBSTACLE
Write a calm, peaceful story used to aid sleep.
Utilise smooth rhythm and consider your sentence structures and syntax, avoiding phrases that would be jarring or throw the reader out of the story. The content of the plot matters less than the tone.
π² π΅πππππ ππ π°ππ π₯ ~ πΏπππ π·
π³π°π: 18
πππππππππ ππ πππππ: 7
π΅πππ: 4 days
πΌππππ ππ ππ: 62
***
The nuclear winter has settled a blanket of ash across everything in our path; itβs becoming harder and harder to see. To put one foot in front of the other.
Not to mention that Marco is getting restless, almost sinister. And probably because he believes that Maryβs death wasnβt an accident.
Itβs almost hard to know who to trust anymore: Link rarely speaks anymore, since Nadia got lost at the beginning of the trip. Violetβs temper is easily triggered in like a volcano once it gets going. Leoβs jokes are tapering out. Lillian cries more and more each day.
And Aaronβ¦ Aaron. His guard is up 24/7. Itβs like the boy I loved is gone and has been replaced with a stone cold imposter. Whenever I try to talk to him, he acts like Iβm not there. That hurts me more than a constant pangs of hunger that rock my body, the searing pain of hot, burning ash on my bare feet.
I knew this mission was going to change our lives, and for some of us take our lives. I just hope that after this, even if we come back in pieces, we come back as ourselves. Not these ravaged mutants weβve become.
βWeβre low on food. We should stop,β a raspy voice, says, yanking me out of my head. I turn my gaze to the speaker, a brooding outline in the shadows. Aaron.
I nod. βWe can hunt. I can go with you.β
Aaron looks at me. When he doesnβt say anything, I feel relief, see her through my body, numbing the feel of hot ash on my feet. He wants me to go with him, he wantsβ
βNo.β A low growl. βItβs not safe.β
Disappointment replaces the fleeting excitement. βAre you still hung up on that?β I ask, bitterness seeping through my tone. βAre you stillβmight I add unsuccessfullyβtrying to keep me safe? Donβt you know weβve lost so manyββ
βExactly,β Aaron says, matching my tone. βItβs not safe. Especially for a girl like you, Claire.β
βWhoah there, little buddy,β Violet puts in, stepping forward. Sheβs lucky sheβs not getting a knife to the neck right now. Only she can call Aaron βlittle buddyβ and get away with it. β we are perfectly capable of not dying, you sexist bastard.β
I have to hold back a laugh. The look on Erinβs face, at least, as far as I can tell, is pissed. Itβs the same expression heβs worn every day for the past two and a half weeks. Heβs our leader, but lately heβs been hanging back.
βFine,β he whispers. βIβll just go by myself.β he turns to disappear into the canopy of barren trees, the forest of ash.
βWait!β I call, and I pause until the rustling stops. βBe careful, Aaron.β The words are filled with lost emotion, memories of what we used to be. Maybe evenβ¦ love.
Silence. And then: βStay here.β
And heβs gone. Eaten by the suffocating storm.