Aspiring horror/thriller writer. Currently working on short stories/prompt fills. I have a larger piece I am working on and look forward to opportunities on Vocal.
Fool's Gold: Michael: Alone
Michael, being 11 and only having movies as knowledge for injuries, had always thought waking up from a hit to the head was quick and with a gasp. Instead, he groaned lowly and struggled to lift himself onto his forearms. After many failed attempts, Michael succeeded in getting onto his hands and knees. He shivered, then hissed in pain as the trembling jostled his head. His right arm felt wet and sticky and his head was pounding.
"Stop sniveling and get up." She flinched at the harsh tone, one that no one else could hear. Every day it seemed to grow louder and more harsh. Ashtar blurredly stared at her thin, bruised wrists; she wasn’t sure what had set him off this time, surely this wasn’t what a marriage was meant to be.
She was five when The End, as it had been named, had reached its peak. It had been a slow but steady decline of technology and resources. Anarchy in the streets as prices were gouged and the people that once “served the public” invested in their own interests. Riots, murder, explosions across cities; all of this brought about an end to a nation once revered as great.
"Seems you missed the "Don't talk to strangers" lesson." The kid shrugs, "What's it to you if I talk to strangers?" I roll my eyes and slowly turn to look at the kid. "I could be a kidnapper or something, you know? Where's your sense of self-preservation? It's called 'stranger danger' for a reason."
"I knew you'd like that one." The clapping died off; like the volume of a radio being turned down. "I wasn't sure if you'd noticed that I ..well," I laughed lightly," I was trying to find a genre you preferred. I do want my audience to enjoy my ‘performance’."