Hey, I’m Tanitha, and I’m a new author on Banana Bomb! I love Doctor Who, but not the new series as much (David Tennant is undoubtably the ulimate Doctor!). I read way too much, and I love to write as well. Here is a short piece that I wrote- and I’m sorry it’s a little… depressing. :]
Grey ash softy drifted through the air like snowflakes; except that when they came in contact with human flesh, they didn’t melt but burn your skin, leaving angry scarlet marks like a bee sting. All the once-proud skyscrapers now leant crookedly, like old men exhausted with the pain of life. There were gaping holes sunken into their sides and their bones of steel where fractured. It seemed like they would topple any second now- but still, impossibly, they stood.
Alone in the destruction, one boy stood. The only survivor. He felt the burning heat as ash brushed past his skin; as soft as a butterflies’ wing but deadly. He could feel it lining his lungs, clogging up his throat like a deadly paste- choking him. Or was that his own bile? And in every direction he saw the endless rubble, smothered in that fine ash that was everywhere. There was not a sound. His ears strained hopelessly to hear something, anything! -but the once noisy city was as quiet as a grave. Ten thousand graves.
As he stared up at the grey sky, memories of the city he knew flashed back to him, as if they were trying to remind him of what had been lost. There was that lovely Indian lady, opening up her restaurant on the way to school. The popular milkshake bar he went to on a first date with Abbie, the cute and adorably shy blonde. The lush green parks that stretched on for miles- a small haven in a city of concrete. He and the lads lazed around there at weekends, discussing everything, nothing and something else entirely. His city had been busy, bustling, colourful and overcrowded. Now a graveyard, devoid of colour, noise or life.
So alone. The last one left. Everyone he knew- dead. Abruptly, and as painfully as being stabbed in the stomach, reality hit him. He gasped and stepped back, his eyes pricking ominously. He held the tears back- but then, what did it matter any more, when there was nobody to see?
So he crouched down in the ashes of his life and cried. Cried for the life he had had. Cried for the lives that had been lost. Cried for the city that was no more.
If you want to read more by me, or are just curious, check my website out!