Creative+Writing

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Children of the Grave Olive green rolling hills lined up along the horizon as the sun seeps through the gaps of the swaying trees. Fields of wheat, tall grass and plants side by side in neat rows and moving swiftly in the wind. All of this was once the world I knew, now within the atmosphere lies a graveyard of the failed survival of civilization, mankind and all of those who were subjugated by greed. The God that we worshipped was the God that struck us down and betrayed us. All that remains are the ruins of the once lively towns and cities which partially withstood the pandemonium. All vegetation, nature, any form of life on the surface is enfeebled and crippled by the infection in which rules the air. The earth is scarred with craters, poisoned by nuclear emission that seeps down from the sky, into the soil and into my flesh.

I slid up against the cold metal wall, to try and get a good night’s sleep, since I had not slept for 30 hours because of the abnormally loud tremors coming from the surface, and the fact that I hadn’t communicated with anybody since the happening. At the time, I didn’t know what was going on, was it the apocalypse, or was I just going insane? I felt like I was in one of the movies I had watched with my parents when I was younger.

My parents aren’t alive anymore. Unfortunately they died in a car crash shortly after we emigrated from Dublin. I was about seven years old at the time. I was put into an orphanage in New York. I lived there for about six years. I ran away from that nightmare when I was about thirteen when I met two men on the street. I befriended them. Their names were Ivan Markova and Roger Barrymore. They were the best friends I ever had. They got me started in a life of crime! I started dealing, mugging and robbing stores. In 2010, I was place under arrest and tried in court for a jewellery store robbery. I remember when I was in jail. Me and my cellmate, Vinnie Carson, were watching the news on our small TV, which we earned through good behaviour. I remember the anchorman saying that North Korea had threatened the US with a nuclear strike and that the American government had declared DEFCON 1. I didn’t quite know what a DEFCON was until I looked it up in the prison library. I t was “a measure of the activation and readiness level of the United States armed forces.”, DEFCON 1 was the highest level. When I found out about that, I knew some bad things were about to go down.

I remember the day it happened. Two days after my 22nd birthday, the missiles went up into the sky, and all of the buildings went down. I recall people running for their lives down the streets as mushroom clouds rose into the sky miles away. It was chaos. Men, women, children, tripping and falling over each other on the sidewalks, vehicles were rushing red lights, slamming into people close by and killing them. Luckily for me, I was out of prison and heading towards the subway station. When I saw what was going on, I couldn’t move as I was in extreme shock, until I was hit by a car. The impact snapped me out of the hypnosis of the situation and I sprinted to the subway as society tumbled all around me. I ran to the nearest room, barred the door shut and huddled in the corner.

Meanwhile, all of a sudden I felt another tremor. I was staring to question if this was real or if ot was just all in my head! I finally got up and removed the steel bar from the door and pried the rusty metallic door open. All that appeared outside of the room was just a dark subway, it went on for miles. I knew I wasn’t supposed to leave the room after dark, but something possessed me to go anyway. As I walked down the dark, gloomy channel I began to fell sick as I gazed upon the ruins of a train and the scattered contents it held within. I made my way to the surface. The sights were disheartening. Buildings were destroyed. They were spread across the landscape for miles. Bodies were burned beyond recognition. Nothing was left, shades of death and wreckage of what used to be. I almost threw up at the sight of what remained of my world. It was evident that there would be no survivors for miles. I saw the sun rising at the end of the horizon. The light revealed even more horrific figures.

I began my daily search for food and supplies – that was all part of my routine. I set rules and boundaries for myself; no leaving after dark, always boil down water, the door must be held shut by the metal bar and do not leave the shelter except for food or in an emergency. That day I didn’t find much. I managed to find a pot. I thought I could use it to boil down water and I pretty much couldn’t find anything else. I returned to the subway station and walked to the control room where I was staying. In the room I had an acoustic guitar, missing the last string, a Swiss army knife that my father had given me when I was seven, a box of 250 matches and a Discman – it probably had 40% power left. I only had two CD’s. One was “Strange Days” by The Doors and “Master of Reality” by Black Sabbath. I had never really listened to either of the bands often, but I didn’t have much else and it was the only thing that brought me back to the old world. Ironically, one of the tracks off “Master of Reality” is about being under “nuclear threat”. The song was called “Children of the Grave”. I listened to it non-stop, until the batteries died on my Discman. After I had nothing to listen to I began strumming on the guitar I had lying around. I was no good at it, but it was all I had.

It had been twenty-three days since the happening and I had just run out of food and water, so I set out to find more. I felt like I was going insane. I hadn’t talked to anyone for a long time. I started hearing seeing and feeling things that weren’t there. I started talking to objects and they talked back to me. I had random tantrums, seizures and depressing episodes. I had smashed my left fist on the concrete wall. I kept hitting the wall, hoping that I could escape this rusty cage and return to common sense. I felt almost as if I was outside of my body, watching myself do these things. I couldn’t control myself anymore, my primal instincts had taken over my mind, I had become an animal. I walked out of the door, our of the subway station, past the ruins and into a desert, only to find myself lost in the middle of nowhere. I vomited and collapsed as the piercing sun and the brutal winds gnawed at my skin.

I woke up and found myself back inside the room. I didn’t know what was happening. The same thing happened three times in a row. I had run out of food, water and all of my overall resources. The earth had become a cruel, ruthless desert. The air is vicious, it eats away at my throat. It’s as if the world wants me dead.



1. What are the five items and why are they important to you?

- A photo of him and his parents when he was 7. To remind him of his past life. - An acoustic guitar, missing an E string. Had it since he was 9, uses it to occupy himself. - A box of 250 matches. To light fires. - His fathers swiss army knife. For many purposes, given to him by his father when he was 7. - A diskman CD player with 40% power remaining. To listen to music and remind him of the world before it was destroyed.

2. Describe your protagonist. Age, Physical, Psychological Make -up ** Physical Appearance **  Gender: Male Age: 22 Ethnic Background: Irish, British Skin Color: White Build: Slim Height: 5"11 Hair: Thinning, Buzzed Cut Facial Hair: Unshaven, messy Health: Unhealthy, radiation poisoning. Other: Piercing on left ear.

**Psychological Make up **  - Suffering from extreme solitude - Depressed - Unkind - Easily aggravated

**Childhood Life: **  - Born in 1990, Dublin, Ireland. - Only Child - Family immigrated to New York in 1997 - Average education - Parents die in car crash in 1999 - Orphaned in 1999 - Often fought with other children - Never adopted, ran away from orphanage in 2005 - Befriended criminals and began a life of crime

**Teenaged and Adulthood: **  - Got shot in the arm during a mugging in 2006 - Successfully preformed a jewelry store robbery in 2008 - United States goes to war against North Korea - Arrested in 2010 for armed robbery and assault and sentenced for 1 year in prison 120 hours of community service. - Released from prison in 2011 - U.S. Government declares “DEFCON 1” after North Korea threatens a nuclear strike in 2012. - North Korea, U.S. and Russia launch Nuclear missiles and globally effects civilization in 2012. - All vegetation dies and global population diminishes 85% in 2012.

3. Describe your home. What have you done to ensure your safety? Shelter: -Underground subway station control room.

Safety measures: ** - Door held shut by metal bar - Bandages - No leaving shelter after dark - Never leave the shelter, unless its for food, supplies or and emergency **  4. What kinds of things have you done to ensure your survival?

- Box of 150 matches - A pot for boiling down and decontaminating water and food. - A knife for multiple purposes

5. What is the central conflict of your story?

- The battle between the character, the extreme solitude and his inability to cope with the sparse elements in what remains his world

6. What is the climax of the story?

- When the main character starts to go insane, begins to hallucinate, and becomes sick from radiation poisoning.

7. How does your protagonist change over the story?

- He changes from a criminal living his normal everyday life, to a man suffering from solitary insanity.

8. The story includes dramatic irony, for example; the world has just underwent a nuclear holocaust, and the song that the main character was listening to was "Children of the Grave", a song about being under nuclear threat.

9. Some examples of symbolism in the story are; the Discman and the guitar, in which represent his old world and feelings of comfort and freedom.

10. The theme of the story is remembrance, in the story, the main character listened to music and played guitar to remember his old world