The survival skills challenge was going to be as boring as watching grass grow. I was sitting next to my brother Tam which was not making the bus ride any more pleasant. I gave Tam a loathsome look and he retaliated with an odium stare. The bus was in worse condition than my mood. The processed scent of plastic seats, textured to look like real leather mixed with a tinge of exhaust fume was horrific. The heat in the school bus was always suffocating, coming from close quarters with over thirty kids. It was as noisy as Little Saigon Market. Everyone had stories to share accompanied by complicated hand gestures and occasional sound effects. The rays of the sun struggled to penetrate through the cracked windows streaked with grease and dirt. The windows specifically stood out due to the window tint that had been scraped off like paper. The teacher was pairing the students for the survival skills challenge. I crossed my fingers as tightly as my tie, hoping not to be …show more content…
I didn't recognise any trees or pathways. We must have run so speedily and blindly. As noon approached, Tam and I decided to lay down on the surface. I was staring into the sky, when a raucous thunder howled. Caliginous and tenebrous clouds weaved themselves into the sky. The sky had darkened as though a curtain had been pulled across it. The earthy smell of the rain had filled the air. Rain started to intensify, like bullets being shot from an AK-47. A bright flash of lightning zigzagged across the sky, illuminating the surrounding dark clouds around. The deafening claps of thunder hurt my ears and the swirling dust came into my eyes. I turned to see Tam's face, he was hysterical and petrified. After twenty horrifying minutes, the incessant claps of thunder stopped. Wind slowed down and the rain settled into a quiet drizzle, until it completely stopped. We began our search for the school bus. It had been forty-eight hours since we had left
Halfway up it was beginning to look doubtful, the wind was picking up and everyone was getting out rain gear to prepare for the storm. I voiced my doubts to Phil and he said we might as well keep going until the lighting got too close. So we did. The thunder grew in volume and the echoes magnified the noise to a dull roar sometimes. Then suddenly it began to ebb. The wind died down and lightening came less frequently. I exchanged relieved looks with Phil after a bit, but kept the pace up--I didn’t want to take chances. Eventually it hit us, but by then it was nothing more then a heavy rain. We kept moving, if slower, and made it over the ridge with no other problems. That night I enjoyed the meal a little more and slept a little deeper realizing how much is important that easily goes unnoticed until something threatens to take it away.
Zero awoke to find himself standing, it was not something he was familiar with and he searched his memory for any recollection of it happening before. Quickly he discovered that large parts of his memory were missing, gone were the seemingly endless data bases of information. Quickly he sent out feelers trying for a connection of some sort but he drew a blank. It seemed that where ever he was now, had limited connection capacity. Instead he used his visual feed to survey his surrounding, it appeared he was in some kind of desert of discarded parts.
The cricket chirps grew louder and all we could see in the dark was the bright fluorescent eyes of animals creeping and crawling all over the place. Shortly begun the thunder and lightning followed by a short shower. Everything was soon wet, and the knife-like smell of the damp soil oozed into my nostrils. As I stumbled almost blindly through the deep jungle, I could feel the muggy earth squelch as I lightly treaded on it. Tears started to well up in my eyes, and I began to vigorously tremble.
It was larger than I remembered it to be: the roof stretched higher towards the blackness, the windows prolonged as if they had to sustain more people looking out of them and the perky white house it once was, now seemed to blend with its surroundings. Adrenaline surged through my veins like a brisk yellow bug. A sudden storm erupted, paralysing me as it crackled and boomed throughout the atmosphere; the thought of being in it wholly disheartened me, along with the tang of anxiety that came with it. But there was
I awoke in the forest. It was evening, the sun had long set. The smell of the woods surrounded me, almost suffocating me with the musk. I gazed before me as I stood, no lights, no way to see the path. I was lost, the thick trees blocking any light that might guide me. I began to walk slowly, watching each step carefully. The silence pressed against my ears, it was deafening. My eyes began to adjust to the pressing darkness with each step, and I noticed I was in a large clearing. Fear gripped me, how I gotten here or, why, I did not know.
On a cold windy night, the sound of bombs dropping echoed not too far away. Ahmad was laying down thinking about his life. He contemplated his existence by asking himself questions. Is his life worth it? Is staying in the country worth risking his life?
After we walked for two hours we stopped and took a goodbye look at our beloved country. It was unbearable for Mansur to flee his homeland. He lagged behind walking slowly as if being lost in a deep thought. We waited him standing in the middle of the dusty road to find out the reason for him not to walk as quickly as we did. He walked closer to us and halted in the middle of the dusty path and said, “Guys, I want to skip this journey because I don’t think I can make it any further.
The sweat on my cold palms glistened like glitter as I traced the path of my lifeline with my weary eyes. The waiting room was motionless while the crisp air conditioner in the hospital building pounded through the relentless eighty degree spring. A crinkled newspaper on the stand next to me was outdated and torn, as if someone has brutally thrown it aside during a monetary loss of the calm tide.
Grady was able to step away a couple of feet away from the mother bear, so he can get a head start of running away from the bear... I stepped away from the bear, so if the bear starts chasing me, I can get a head start running to say my last prayers. I started to run as fast as I could because you don't want to just stand there and be gobbled up for dinner. I ran so fast that I couldn't keep a trail if I lost my family, then I tripped over a piece of twig that made me stop and hear the awful sounds of the bear. After I tripped over the twig, I decided to go back to the campgrounds.
One of the ways that I try to ease apprehension in students, is by relating to them as a writer. I am not ashamed to say that I have a pile of over 50 rejections from magazines; I don’t let them mock me, but push me to keep trying. I am not ashamed to say that I revise 20 or more times before I’m happy with something, that I still have words I regularly misspell, or that I still get intimidated when a new person is reviewing my work. Talking about some of these things (in moderation), reminds the person that I’m helping that I am, like them, human; I also need feedback from others (and I don’t always agree with it), and I also am still learning.
I went sixty down a beatin up back road, even under my high beam’s light it’s paint was barely visible. The neon red clock to the right of my steering wheel blinked a 1:14 AM. The radio had cut out just ten minutes before, but the silence it left made it feel like entirety. The growl of my car, the howl of the wind, and the pounding of rain was all I could hear. A thick layer of dull, gray clouds blocked all light from the sky.
Walking, there is no end in sight: stranded on a narrow country road for all eternity. It is almost dark now. The clouds having moved in secretively. When did that happen? I am so far away from all that is familiar. The trees are groaning against the wind’s fury: when did the wind start blowing? Have I been walking for so long that time hysterically slipped away! The leaves are rustling about swirling through the air like discarded post-it notes smashing, slapping against the trees and blacktop, “splat-snap”. Where did the sun go? It gave the impression only an instant ago, or had it been longer; that it was going to be a still and peaceful sunny day; has panic from hunger and walking so long finally crept in? Waking up this morning, had I been warned of the impending day, the highs and lows that I would soon face, and the unexpected twist of fate that awaited me, I would have stayed in bed.
We stared in mute amazement as ostentatious lightning, the colour of burnished gold, burst in white-bright flashes flaming against the crenellated ridge. Thunder, colliding in sheets of monstrous sound, rattled the air and practically deafened us. We just sat, timorous almost to the point of death. The wind rose to a shrieking, venomous pitch in its furious battle with mountain. The air stank of scorched stone ... ...
The door creaked open as the young boy stepped out but was quickly slammed shut by the viscous wind the noise echoed through the hills disturbing some pigeons roosting in the near by trees. The moon was illuminating the night sky with a milky glow which illuminated all land creating large disturbing shadows. The trees bent in submission to the howling wind which forced their branches to brush along the ground sweeping the dust away from the track. The solitary building which could barely be described as a house stood alone and solitary on the hillside. The walls were crumbling from the water logged plaster and only one window still contained a pain of glass.
One of the most unique creatures are fish. As I am sitting here in my room, my fish are swimming about with not a care in the world. I wonder what it would feel like to be a fish.