My own story.

I have recently began to write a story entitled "SeanQuinn12PH." The story revolves around a young man named Sean Quinn and he lives in 2025 after a Nuclear War. So it is quite obviously Post-Apocalyptic. Below you will see the beginning of this story, it's obviously not much but I would appreciate people to read through it. I would like to know what your thoughts are on it so far, does it make you want to read on? Is it interesting? If not, why and what should I add in? I would appreciate your inputs and if you enjoy the beginning of the story, leave me your name and I'll use it for one of the characters :) Enjoy (I hope) ! It begins:

Chapter I
In the year 2025, the world has changed. How beautiful the world used to be before it was tainted by the idiocy of humans. There were once fields that were like oceans of green with trees that seemed to reach the Gods. The clouds were a pure white, scattered across an endless blue sea. Now there is no longer any grass, no leaves on the trees. The sky is no longer the blue that some remember, nor are the clouds as white as angel's wings. After the Nuclear War, no beauty survived.
Above the desolate, forgotten land that was the earth, a lone eagle flew. It was an unusual but majestic sight to behold in, as the only birds that flew these skys were vultures. It's penetrating gaze stared down upon the earth. As a gentle, but firm, breeze rolled in from the east, the eagle tilted it's wings and glided to a small clearing below. In the clearing stood a boy, no older than 17. He stood straight, dressed in a worn pair of dark brown cargo pants tucked into his worn leather boots and a plain white t-shirt covered mostly in a thin leather jacket which had a sharp, white '12' marked on the shoulder. The boy's face was ordinary. Square and ruddy with freckles dotted on the cheeks. His hair was chestnut-brown and his wavy locks stirred in the warm breeze. He stood with pursed lips, his piercing gaze watching the eagle circle above. His large, rough hands were clenched behind his back and as the breeze touched him he sniffed, noting the smell of dust and decay. This young man was Sean Quinn, of vault 12. The eagle circled the clearing a notable amount of times, watching Sean. Sean turned away from the eagle rather reluctantly to look at his gear by his feet. He'd only been out of the vault for 20 minutes, but he had had to stop because of how uncomfortable his things were. He carried a quiver of arrows and his bow, a backpack filled with a large water bottle, food and a medical kit. He wasn't venturing out anywhere far but it was nescessary to carry it in the wilderness.
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by three loud gongs that sounded a mile or so away. It was the vault signalling for people to return. Sean sighed and crouched down to pick up his gear. He slung the backpack over his shoulder, cringing at the sudden extra weight, attached the quiver to the back and held the bow in his right hand. He turned 180 degrees to venture back to the vault but twisted his neck to get one last glimpse of the eagle. It was gone. He searched the sky for a few seconds before he accepted that it had flown back to wherever it had came from and started to walk away from the clearing. It didn't take long to get back to the vault, he had taken this path more times than he could count. He was walking down a dirt path surrounded by dead trees, pushing branches out of his way, when the vault came into view. A mixed surge of emotions flooded through him when it came into sight, a sense of home, isolation, sadness and above all else, anger. Sean tried to quench the anger like his father had taught him but to no avail. He hated the vault.

Thank you for reading :)