My story I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK HELP ME OUT WITH IT PLEASE!
Okay so basically I got really bored and decided to start a story or book or whatever you want to call it I don’t have a name for it yet and if you have any suggestions that would be great
Also my posting might take a little while in between chapters sorry. If you do get interested please don’t bug me about the next post
And I am open to any and all criticism give it all to me I want you to tell me if you even flat out hate it bit please do be kind 😄
So to begin…
Chapter One
The Storm
The hostile wind and sleet tossed Thom Walker’s stringy red hair back and forth with each painful stride. His body was frozen in the storm and exhausted for the strain of running for hours on end. The flight from his grandfather’s house had been rushed, his heart pounded hard at the flash of thought that flew through his brain…
Thom arrived late for dinner at the old cottage that belong to his grandfather. The home was covered in ivy giving the appearance that the house was uninhabited. The sky was still light in an endless sunset the sun rested on the clouds in a slumber. But the sky was awakened by the clash of thunder. Thom ran to the house avoiding the downpour of rain that was slowly flooding the brook at the side of the yard.
Each step splattered new brown water into his sandals his red hair was saturated laying in strings of fire around his freckled face. The house seemed to eat him as he entered its jaws opening in hunger as he stepped through the rusted gate. Thom threw his bag on the hearth to dry it out and entered the kitchen searching for something to eat. The oven held in its depths a plate of roast and potatoes. He ate ravenously and dumped the plate into the sink. The mound of dishes seemed to tip slightly under the newly added weight.
Running down the unkempt hallway he stopped dead in his tracks. His grandfather’s body lay in the hallway his face pressed into the red oak floor. Blood was everywhere a pool laid beneath his body. Thom leaned over his eyes filling with tears to turn the body his grandfather’s eyes remained open in his dying moments. Those same blue eyes that reflected in Thom the same eyes of Thom’s mother.
His scream tore through the house holding his breath he pushed past his grandfather’s limp body to the small office that was changed into his room. Jumping past his small blue bed he dove for the loose floorboard under his desk that held all his money. The body in the hallway had unnerved him. He would be leaving right away to Wharton, the only place that he had ever felt at home.
And then he had begun to run…
He never faltered he never stopped. He would not stop for a single thing until he reached his destination at the Brooke Inn. There he would get a room and then start a new life off on his own.
The thunder and lightning crashed against the dark sky. He was running blindly no light was found in this time of depression. Thom’s grandfather had never been that close to him yet at the sight of those lifeless blue eyes reminded him of his mother who had passed away several years prior. Thom was only four when it had happened but he remembered her.
Rain began to fall in heavy drops upon the ground each splattering on impact. Thom’s hair and clothes soon became heavy with water making each step harder with the added weight. Thom had always had an amazing sense of smell and could now smell the salt in the sea. He was almost there.
The sun began to come up through the storm changing the sky to a light grey and soon the storm was transformed into a simple drizzle of rain. Yet Thom still did not slow. His body was determined to make it all the way through the town to the inn.
He passed through the open gates of the port town of Wharton the salt hung heavy on the air weighting the bone soaked Thom down. The town was a slight green color each building was covered in an assortment of moss, plants and slime. The layout of the houses at the entrance was not exact as it had been where Thom used to live. These homes were instead placed at random or, as it seemed, wherever the owner had seen fit.
The familiar smell of mold and dust filled Thom’s nostrils. He continued down the well-traveled dirt road to the Brooke Inn and slid to a stop outside the broken down building. The windows were boarded up giving the appearance that the place had run out of business but Thom knew better. The innkeeper Jeff just did not like the sunlight coming in. He entered the inn breathing hard. The candlelight splashed on the slimy room giving it an underwater feel. There were several dirty faces in the surrounding chairs and tables many were drunk and looked bitter.
Jeff stood at a beat up desk picking at the few teeth that he still had.
“ I need a room Jeff, for one.” Thom panted surprised at his lack of air.
“ Bin runnin’ asee Thom. We’ll get ya a room en no toime.” Came the reply in a guttural raspy voice. Jeff’s face looked as if it hadn’t seen daylight in twenty years. His skin was papery and dry and his black eyes sunk into his head giving him the appearance that he was dead. “ Ah, well righ’ than righ’ here fer ya.” He pointed into a dark room with a dirty bed and a dresser the only other thing in the room was a single chair against the wall.
“ thanks.”
Jeff exited the room leaving thom alone again. Reaching out to the bed he lay down thinking one thing before he blacked out from exhaustion
Home.