Bjornnesss
04-09-2015, 09:17 AM
John leaned up against a lonesome bush-like shrubbery and took a long, hard sigh. Darkness was consuming the sky, and he knew it was time to sleep. He whipped out his tattered diary from his worn backpack and commenced to write his daily entry. “Day 17” he muttered as he started jotting down the day’s events. “ Since my plane crash in the Libyan Desert, my continuations on this tenuous endeavour to find safety, shelter, and water, hasn’t posted any signs for me yet. The desert still has it’s sweltering grasp on me, and it has no intention of letting me go. I will continue my voyage, but my heart feels heavy, and my body is slowly falling apart” grunted Tom as he wrote his voice on his diary. Before he could concoct more thoughts to jot down, his head fell asleep and he collapsed against the shrubbery.
John’s slumber was broken by the sun’s sweltering lava rays. With a brush of his hand, he wiped his sweaty forehead clean and slowly got up to continue his journey for safety and a sustainable life. Leaving his diary open from the night before, Day 17 almost vanished due to it’s sweat-filled sheets. John cursed as he slowly closed his book of his life, careful not to ruin his past entry. Once safely closed, he triple wrapped a rubber band around his diary, keeping it safe from the outside elements. Once all his belongings were enclosed by his frayed backpack, he continued on his endeavor.
With only an hour into his expedition, he heard a faint roar in the distance. John stopped and used his hand as a visor as he scouted the area. Seeing only the forsaken sands, he proceeded on with a slight cautious manner. As he trudged up a small sand-dune, the thundering sound increased with every tenuous step he took. Once John conquered the dune, he stopped and overlooked the desert scenery. Now the clamorous noise became prevalent when he saw an angry whirling beast in the distance. Horrified, John turned the other way and quickly tramped through the sands, hoping to not get devoured by the beast. The wind picked up behind him and the sands started to move below him. John could feel his backpack wanting to leave his shoulders and enter the sandstorm, but John firmly grasped the straps as he did not want to lose his only possessions. As John struggled to outrun the storm, the winds became as loud as a jet engine as the land around him went black. It was only a matter of seconds before the heart of the creature consumed him, and a puny human like him was just an appetizer for the hungry behemoth. John found a lonesome rock and tried to run over to it, hoping to grasp it for safety. Before he could, the wild wind knocked him over, plunging his face into the sand. With his mouth and eyes filled with the desert’s miniscule grainy pebbles, he could do nothing but lay down and bury his head in his hands, hoping the storm would treat him fairly.
He could hear the beast’s charge at him like a stampede of buffalo. In a matter of seconds, sand felt like glass as it pounded his body in every direction as he continued to bury his head, barely withstanding the violent storm. Amidst the chaos, the wind ripped off the straps to his backpack and the bag of preciousness was sucked into the beast’s mouth like a magnet, without a hint from John. The beast’s clamorous growls horrified John’s ears as they filled with sand and dirt. Despite his covered eyes and mouth, the monster’s wrath managed to break through John’s arm shield and infect his eyes and mouth, bloating John’s body with the desert elements.
Two minutes later, calmness once again was bestowed upon the land as the vile mammoth continued it’s vicious fury elsewhere across the desert, leaving John to wither and decay in the beast’s violent aftermath. The fireball once again appeared in the sky, frying John’s open wounds from the storm. The gushing blood sizzled on his skin as it absorbed the yellow orbs streams of heat, gluing the blood onto John’s skin. He tried to get up and continue his journey, but his body was kaput. His legs, although shaking with pain, managed to lift his body off the ground. As he proceeded to take a step, his body gave out and John collapsed to the ground like a swatted fly. In pain and agony, John lay on his back, awaiting death to emerge from the sands below him and pull him under. His mind tortured him as he mentally said his goodbyes to his wife and children, hoping they’re lives would not be ruined by him. Images of his mutt Oliver flashed through his mind as he remembered all the memories they had together. Tears rained down John’s fried face as he concocted depressing scenes of his family and friends after hearing of his death.
Seconds later, John’s ear spoke to him about a dim sound of a rumbling engine in the distance, although his mind chose to not listen. Louder and louder the engine became more prevalent, revealing it to be a white van with a red cross plastered onto it’s side. John, with the remnants of his might, raised his hand, hoping his savior would bring him light. The van approached him, and two angels appeared out of the vehicle. Lifting him up with their heavenly hands, they placed him onto a stretcher. The driver hopped out and opened the van’s back doors to heaven as the two angles inserted John into God’s abode. The depression that taunted him was swept away by happiness as he knew life had regained it’s hold on him.
John’s slumber was broken by the sun’s sweltering lava rays. With a brush of his hand, he wiped his sweaty forehead clean and slowly got up to continue his journey for safety and a sustainable life. Leaving his diary open from the night before, Day 17 almost vanished due to it’s sweat-filled sheets. John cursed as he slowly closed his book of his life, careful not to ruin his past entry. Once safely closed, he triple wrapped a rubber band around his diary, keeping it safe from the outside elements. Once all his belongings were enclosed by his frayed backpack, he continued on his endeavor.
With only an hour into his expedition, he heard a faint roar in the distance. John stopped and used his hand as a visor as he scouted the area. Seeing only the forsaken sands, he proceeded on with a slight cautious manner. As he trudged up a small sand-dune, the thundering sound increased with every tenuous step he took. Once John conquered the dune, he stopped and overlooked the desert scenery. Now the clamorous noise became prevalent when he saw an angry whirling beast in the distance. Horrified, John turned the other way and quickly tramped through the sands, hoping to not get devoured by the beast. The wind picked up behind him and the sands started to move below him. John could feel his backpack wanting to leave his shoulders and enter the sandstorm, but John firmly grasped the straps as he did not want to lose his only possessions. As John struggled to outrun the storm, the winds became as loud as a jet engine as the land around him went black. It was only a matter of seconds before the heart of the creature consumed him, and a puny human like him was just an appetizer for the hungry behemoth. John found a lonesome rock and tried to run over to it, hoping to grasp it for safety. Before he could, the wild wind knocked him over, plunging his face into the sand. With his mouth and eyes filled with the desert’s miniscule grainy pebbles, he could do nothing but lay down and bury his head in his hands, hoping the storm would treat him fairly.
He could hear the beast’s charge at him like a stampede of buffalo. In a matter of seconds, sand felt like glass as it pounded his body in every direction as he continued to bury his head, barely withstanding the violent storm. Amidst the chaos, the wind ripped off the straps to his backpack and the bag of preciousness was sucked into the beast’s mouth like a magnet, without a hint from John. The beast’s clamorous growls horrified John’s ears as they filled with sand and dirt. Despite his covered eyes and mouth, the monster’s wrath managed to break through John’s arm shield and infect his eyes and mouth, bloating John’s body with the desert elements.
Two minutes later, calmness once again was bestowed upon the land as the vile mammoth continued it’s vicious fury elsewhere across the desert, leaving John to wither and decay in the beast’s violent aftermath. The fireball once again appeared in the sky, frying John’s open wounds from the storm. The gushing blood sizzled on his skin as it absorbed the yellow orbs streams of heat, gluing the blood onto John’s skin. He tried to get up and continue his journey, but his body was kaput. His legs, although shaking with pain, managed to lift his body off the ground. As he proceeded to take a step, his body gave out and John collapsed to the ground like a swatted fly. In pain and agony, John lay on his back, awaiting death to emerge from the sands below him and pull him under. His mind tortured him as he mentally said his goodbyes to his wife and children, hoping they’re lives would not be ruined by him. Images of his mutt Oliver flashed through his mind as he remembered all the memories they had together. Tears rained down John’s fried face as he concocted depressing scenes of his family and friends after hearing of his death.
Seconds later, John’s ear spoke to him about a dim sound of a rumbling engine in the distance, although his mind chose to not listen. Louder and louder the engine became more prevalent, revealing it to be a white van with a red cross plastered onto it’s side. John, with the remnants of his might, raised his hand, hoping his savior would bring him light. The van approached him, and two angels appeared out of the vehicle. Lifting him up with their heavenly hands, they placed him onto a stretcher. The driver hopped out and opened the van’s back doors to heaven as the two angles inserted John into God’s abode. The depression that taunted him was swept away by happiness as he knew life had regained it’s hold on him.