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At Dream's End
little5 (2014-07-19 23:57:54)Paragraphs pls
Paragraphs= no Too Long; Did not Read!
Not bad, continue it. .o.
This post has been edited one or more times, the last time was:2014-07-20 07:01:47
Fascism (2014-07-20 00:59:26)It seems okay. Needs some touching up on the sentence format. Sometimes fluff isn't needed.
Signatures are stupid.
Aleks (2014-07-20 03:10:55)If I needed my sentence format touched up, my English teacher would have said so.
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This is a story I wrote for my Freshman English class. If it's too long for you, then eh oh well?This is the version my teacher did not correct yet, so there may be few errors.
I felt the sun glare down at me. White noise poured into my ears. Dazed, I looked up and had my pupils filled with a blinding, heavenly light. My eyes quickly shut and my face dropped. My legs decided to push against the gritty terrain from which my body was lying upon. Flicking my corpse up, I took the time to rub out my eyes and weigh down the armor I was wearing. Bronze with an intricate, swirled design engraved in the chest plate. Two shin guards, both bronze with the same pattern as the breastplate. Reaching up, my curled hair wrapped around my dust-covered fingers like a snake around a caduceus. Wiping my dirtied tips against my ragged pant leg, I gazed out into the blood bath. The atrocious sight of man against man with brutal weapons registered a seemingly impossible thought into my empty head. Verifying this thought, I watched the crowds of Roman people cheer and boast in their designated spots. I shuffled in place, puzzling over what I should do. Fight? Where was my weapon? The white noise faded out while the roar of the people and screams of gladiators overcame my eardrums. The clang of a metal against metal was barely audible to my left. I spun around to be greeted by an unanticipated gate. My eyes floated down to see a sword, sun dancing down from the blade and then to me. Squatting, I itched my hand down and unleashed a deathly grip onto the base of the weapon. The blade had the same mesmerizing carving that my armor had. I examined the field for trifling fights. Selecting my dupe, inanity struck me and my legs coerced me forward with a steady pace. Hustling over to the brawl, I raised my arm to get a better angle for my attack. I watched in disgust as a man fell before my eyes, blood spurting from his neck where his enemy had sliced a humongous gash, cutting directly through his carotid artery. The victor bent over and spat twice on his handiwork. Seizing the opportunity, I flew off my feet and drove my blade into the neck line of my target. I toppled over his carcass into a puddle of blood. The warm, crimson liquid stained my exposed skin. I struggled up, strained from my attack. I ripped my weapon from the man’s neck, trying to disregard the gruesome gurgling noise awakening from his trachea. By the time I had regained my strength, almost all of the opponents were lifeless. I pinned myself against the edge of the battlefield, trying to obscure myself. The few remaining gladiators congregated together, swinging swords wildly at each other like animals. This was a game, I thought. A game for beasts. With this, a gate opened. The gate I had started at slowly ascended. Heart pounding, I witnessed in terror as the king of jungle strolled out of the opening. His amber, frothy mane glistened in the sun shine. Teeth shown, he tore straight for the group of marauders, he giant, powerful paws pounding down at the dry dirt, kicking up a powdery dust cloud in his trail. His roar was like thunder as he pounced at the assembly of warriors. One by one he picked them off like meat off a bone. They were dead. The cat turned and locked me in his sights. I felt my heart escalate into my throat. The beast sprinted at me as fast as his muscular form would allow him to. Raising my arms, I interlocked my fingers and pressed my hands firmly against the back of my head. I buried my face into my knees. Preparing for the agony, I clinched and grinded my teeth. The lion swiped with claws disclosed, curved razors excavating into the epithelium of my thigh. My eyes opened. I stole my head from my pillow. Sweat dropped from my temple. Just a dream, I thought. Desiring to check the time, I shifted my body to look for my phone. I cried out in pain as I flung my blanket off, only to see a four bottomless gashes exuding red fluid onto my sheets.