BlackbirdWriter
09-04-2011, 08:36 PM
Hello everyone, I'm BlackbirdWriter, or Julia!
I'm 16, in year 11 at school (finish next year!) and Aussie!:biggrin5:
I love to sing, write and paint and do anything to do with art. To start off with y'all I thought I'd put up a story I wrote, and have everyone critique it for me!
Much love!
‘Crunch, crunch, SNAP!’
She hears the sound of footsteps approaching through the thick brush. Her feet pound lightly on the soft grass, finding the way back, back to her home. Her tattered, green garments catch a breeze, she sees light up ahead. The bow and arrows in her pack pound against her back as she runs, the pouch that hangs from her belt bumping against her leg.
She can hear him running now; her pointed ears pick up every sound of the forest.
Just up ahead, a path of black she sees, running around the cliff edge, and a vehicle with two wheels and handle bars that rests on the side. It looks to be some form of bicycle; she had studied previously forms of human transport, she knows almost everything about it. She makes her way to the vehicle, the bright light of the sun temporarily blinding her as she runs out from under the cover of the forest trees.
A stranger standing nearby watches as she fumbles with the devices, then he asks if she requires any assistance. He flicks a small switch on the front, and turns a key, one that starts the vehicle’s engine.
“It’s a scooter,” he explains.
“Many thanks, and blessings upon you, sir,” she responds, and then she drives away.
It takes her a moment or two, to gain control of the scooter, but it rides smoothly down the path of black after a moment or two.
She is not three minutes away, when she hears the man yell and the roar of another scooter, he is gaining upon her, approaching quickly. She prays now more than ever that her plan is not to waste, and drives her scooter off the path and into the thick, green forest.
The pouch is still swinging from her side as she rides over the many sticks and dead leaves that litter the forest floor, bumping over each and every one.
She looks back, sees that the man has stopped, and is now staring at the tracks she left behind.
“Fyria, look out!”
She looks up, as she hears the voice of her blood-brother, Maruk. Whirling around, she sees that her scooter is headed for disaster, and attempts to control the heavy steering prove to be useless, she resolves that she must jump if she wishes to survive.
Her dress had become caught up on the seat, she tries furiously to pull it loose, but her hands are too rushed to find any way, she panics.
“Fyria!” Maruk yells again.
Fyria looks up just in time to see her scooter impact on a fallen log, flip over, still carrying her helpless body, and plummet down the Cliffside, and into the cold water.
She can’t breathe, the waves crash over her head, as she pulls the stone from the pouch that hung from her side, clutching it with her frozen hands.
Her last thought, before she falls into oblivion, ‘This is what he was after...’
Then everything, the world, the waves, all surrounding the petite elf-girl, disappears, into a black nothing.
I'm 16, in year 11 at school (finish next year!) and Aussie!:biggrin5:
I love to sing, write and paint and do anything to do with art. To start off with y'all I thought I'd put up a story I wrote, and have everyone critique it for me!
Much love!
‘Crunch, crunch, SNAP!’
She hears the sound of footsteps approaching through the thick brush. Her feet pound lightly on the soft grass, finding the way back, back to her home. Her tattered, green garments catch a breeze, she sees light up ahead. The bow and arrows in her pack pound against her back as she runs, the pouch that hangs from her belt bumping against her leg.
She can hear him running now; her pointed ears pick up every sound of the forest.
Just up ahead, a path of black she sees, running around the cliff edge, and a vehicle with two wheels and handle bars that rests on the side. It looks to be some form of bicycle; she had studied previously forms of human transport, she knows almost everything about it. She makes her way to the vehicle, the bright light of the sun temporarily blinding her as she runs out from under the cover of the forest trees.
A stranger standing nearby watches as she fumbles with the devices, then he asks if she requires any assistance. He flicks a small switch on the front, and turns a key, one that starts the vehicle’s engine.
“It’s a scooter,” he explains.
“Many thanks, and blessings upon you, sir,” she responds, and then she drives away.
It takes her a moment or two, to gain control of the scooter, but it rides smoothly down the path of black after a moment or two.
She is not three minutes away, when she hears the man yell and the roar of another scooter, he is gaining upon her, approaching quickly. She prays now more than ever that her plan is not to waste, and drives her scooter off the path and into the thick, green forest.
The pouch is still swinging from her side as she rides over the many sticks and dead leaves that litter the forest floor, bumping over each and every one.
She looks back, sees that the man has stopped, and is now staring at the tracks she left behind.
“Fyria, look out!”
She looks up, as she hears the voice of her blood-brother, Maruk. Whirling around, she sees that her scooter is headed for disaster, and attempts to control the heavy steering prove to be useless, she resolves that she must jump if she wishes to survive.
Her dress had become caught up on the seat, she tries furiously to pull it loose, but her hands are too rushed to find any way, she panics.
“Fyria!” Maruk yells again.
Fyria looks up just in time to see her scooter impact on a fallen log, flip over, still carrying her helpless body, and plummet down the Cliffside, and into the cold water.
She can’t breathe, the waves crash over her head, as she pulls the stone from the pouch that hung from her side, clutching it with her frozen hands.
Her last thought, before she falls into oblivion, ‘This is what he was after...’
Then everything, the world, the waves, all surrounding the petite elf-girl, disappears, into a black nothing.