Post by fracturedprince on Oct 31, 2006 21:40:31 GMT 10
Yeah.. I thought that I'd at least try. I do need all the practice.
A better edit! V.III
Chapter One A retreat. One without a given meaning.
The heavy rock instrumentals continued in the foreground as Astin left the concert hall. Looking to the cemented ground he paid no attention to cold dark car-park that had surrounded him. Stones had riddled the tared ground and the area was lined with native plants.
Astin had concentrated his focus to the path that lied directly in front of him; only looking up as cars approached. One had stopped and its' lights shone right into his eyes. Having no time to adjust to the bright light he simply covered his eyes with his arm.
When the driver threatened to mow him down, he simply froze. But, the car had stopped. Honk. The sound even echoed of the main building from which Astin came. The driver then leaped out of her car. Astin fled to the shadows that had covered most of the car park.
'What is with you kid!?' The driver shouted to the direction of the hide-away. The cool air had wrapped around his voice and mocked the her with its' chilling depth.
Astin soon spotted the exit. Though tempted by an unlocked car. He continued to walk.
He walked to the edge of the car-lot. His movements had continued, without pause; turned left, then a right at the traffic lights.
‘Home’ he said in a murmured tone. As if the stars were actually there, actually human, he continued to talk to them. Astin went on, and finished with, ‘No one is home.’
He sighed as he stood outside his empty home. The lights were out, and the television was quite. No room for noise in the bathroom; and there wasn’t even a washing machine to make a rattle.
The house had been there for 50 years or more. Give or take a decade, or more. The white gloss paint had started to peel from the wooden planks that covered the entire exterior. The tin roof had peeled paint as well. Though, you could not tell as egg from the last attack still covered the (once white) tin roof. The many years of sun damage and even a small fire had taken its toll. Astin was 20, but had lived there for a large sum of his life.
He reach over to the gate and unleashed its’ rusted clamps. His heart started to bound against his ribs. He could feel the change. Harder with every sound of moving rusted pieces. He could not take it. The sound of his heart was deafening.
Astin turned and ran for the night. He could no longer stand the loneliness. What once was a protective influence, was now a painful memory.
A better edit! V.III
Chapter One A retreat. One without a given meaning.
The heavy rock instrumentals continued in the foreground as Astin left the concert hall. Looking to the cemented ground he paid no attention to cold dark car-park that had surrounded him. Stones had riddled the tared ground and the area was lined with native plants.
Astin had concentrated his focus to the path that lied directly in front of him; only looking up as cars approached. One had stopped and its' lights shone right into his eyes. Having no time to adjust to the bright light he simply covered his eyes with his arm.
When the driver threatened to mow him down, he simply froze. But, the car had stopped. Honk. The sound even echoed of the main building from which Astin came. The driver then leaped out of her car. Astin fled to the shadows that had covered most of the car park.
'What is with you kid!?' The driver shouted to the direction of the hide-away. The cool air had wrapped around his voice and mocked the her with its' chilling depth.
Astin soon spotted the exit. Though tempted by an unlocked car. He continued to walk.
He walked to the edge of the car-lot. His movements had continued, without pause; turned left, then a right at the traffic lights.
‘Home’ he said in a murmured tone. As if the stars were actually there, actually human, he continued to talk to them. Astin went on, and finished with, ‘No one is home.’
He sighed as he stood outside his empty home. The lights were out, and the television was quite. No room for noise in the bathroom; and there wasn’t even a washing machine to make a rattle.
The house had been there for 50 years or more. Give or take a decade, or more. The white gloss paint had started to peel from the wooden planks that covered the entire exterior. The tin roof had peeled paint as well. Though, you could not tell as egg from the last attack still covered the (once white) tin roof. The many years of sun damage and even a small fire had taken its toll. Astin was 20, but had lived there for a large sum of his life.
He reach over to the gate and unleashed its’ rusted clamps. His heart started to bound against his ribs. He could feel the change. Harder with every sound of moving rusted pieces. He could not take it. The sound of his heart was deafening.
Astin turned and ran for the night. He could no longer stand the loneliness. What once was a protective influence, was now a painful memory.