Recon
May 7th, 2014, 09:37 PM
Dreams
I looked down at my arms and screamed. Pouring, gushing from my skin, it came, came and splattered the cracked and dying earth, soaking into the muddy soil that so readily consumed it, came and stained my boots and leggings, scarlet, crimson red. I threw my head back to the sky and it was fire, flaming orange underneath a burning sun. My wailing echoed to the corners of the world, and I started awake in a cold sweat, fear in my heart and a trembling in my nerves. The taste of bile lingered in my mouth.
Weary, I got up and spat into the sink before the mirror. The same dream for four nights now; it had to have some sort of meaning. I rinsed my mouth out and stumbled into the shower, knowing that I would not sleep again in spite of my exhaustion. As the steaming water ran in rivulets down my chest and back, I felt a numbness overcome me, sapping at my strength and threatening to lull me into sleep. I fought it off, knowing that I would need my wits about me for the day that was to come.
I wrote this piece in a little under an hour, and was thinking of continuing it. My primary reason for posting here is to get feedback on whether I successfully created a vivid image for the reader and made the protagonist believable. If this was the way a story started, would you continue reading?
I looked down at my arms and screamed. Pouring, gushing from my skin, it came, came and splattered the cracked and dying earth, soaking into the muddy soil that so readily consumed it, came and stained my boots and leggings, scarlet, crimson red. I threw my head back to the sky and it was fire, flaming orange underneath a burning sun. My wailing echoed to the corners of the world, and I started awake in a cold sweat, fear in my heart and a trembling in my nerves. The taste of bile lingered in my mouth.
Weary, I got up and spat into the sink before the mirror. The same dream for four nights now; it had to have some sort of meaning. I rinsed my mouth out and stumbled into the shower, knowing that I would not sleep again in spite of my exhaustion. As the steaming water ran in rivulets down my chest and back, I felt a numbness overcome me, sapping at my strength and threatening to lull me into sleep. I fought it off, knowing that I would need my wits about me for the day that was to come.
I wrote this piece in a little under an hour, and was thinking of continuing it. My primary reason for posting here is to get feedback on whether I successfully created a vivid image for the reader and made the protagonist believable. If this was the way a story started, would you continue reading?