You know, writing is such a delicate and magical art. Just with a few keystrokes, I can implant images in your head, make you entertain ideas that you wouldn’t have been exposed to otherwise, and evoke empathy for people you’ve never met in life.
With that being said, if my writing now (which will undoubtedly be edited over several times) is akin to a group of small fairies making sure that everything is right and yet somehow off in a wonderful way, then what we are about to witness is the equivalent of a YouTuber basement dweller who attempts poorly designed satanic rituals while naked and flopping his man boobs everywhere.
Don’t look that man up, please. The Internet’s darkest holes should not be poked.
Midnight is around me, bathing me in darkness while Riki’s body is outlined in the light of the street lamp-
“Wake up, poet.” Rave was still a little, well, you know. “We came to get the box for the stinky princess.”
What she’s doing, Rave, is actually called prose. But I didn’t expect you to make that distinction, now that I think about it. The only education you would have ever gotten would be from your juvenile owner Laura.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right.” I was still pulling myself out of my daydream.
It would better if you just pulled yourself out all at once so that you wouldn’t make awkward sentences and drag yourself out to the reader. Just a suggestion.
The lady in the blue nightgown wanted us to get a box containing something she wouldn’t tell us from an abandoned building that used to be a firework factory. I could sense that she wanted to see if we would survive something, but she was very good at hiding what we were supposed to survive.
Insert all the allahu ackbar jokes here that you want. I don’t want my blog taken down for “religious harrassment” today.
The inside of the factory was dark, as it was the middle of the night.
It smelled like an egg explosion and there were chemicals strewed everywhere.
The word you want is “strewn”, not “strewed”.
The most prevalent of the chemicals was a white one that created sparks and rapidly caught on fire when Rave’s foot slipped on it.
To be honest, Explosive Cocaine sounds like a crappy scene band that would have gone around on MySpace friending everyone.
“The building’s on fire!” Rave screamed at the top of her lungs over the roar of the flames.
“We know!” Riki and I shouted at her. “What happened to the exit?”
Then strong arms pinned mine behind my back and a familiar voice spoke in a nonchalant voice, “I happened.”
I looked behind me, and who was trying to keep me in the blaze?
Audience, your options are A) me, B) a random stranger who has a vendetta against Algeria, or C) a firefighter who wants to save her life.
Come on, guess!
I dare you to guess.
You don’t want to guess?
Fine. I’ll tell you.
You ruin all of the guessing games I try to have with you.
I’m just trying to have some fun.
Audience, you only have five seconds left of time. Select quickly, or you may lose your chance of winning a million dollars.
It was Tomorrow.
See? I keep my promises. I told you, didn’t I?
I’m not a liar.
That’s not one of the choices, Algeria. You’re disqualified.
Her piercing gaze drilled into me (not literally) as she gripped my wrists tighter.
Algeria, I think that the audience can handle a simple phrase of speech. Your condescension is throwing readers off. You’ve made my blog stats sink in the past month that I’ve been doing this.
The blaze around us grew even hotter and more tortuous until I could almost feel my skin crisping.
Stop it, then.
“Riki!” I shouted over the growing roar of the flames. “Take Rave and find an exit somewhere!”
How is she still in the flames? You would both be suffering in some pretty severe pain from the burns by now. How are you still able to form coherent sentences?
“Just go! You have a better chance of surviving if you stop hanging around me!” Riki hoisted Rave up onto her shoulders and dashed off to an unknown part of the building, looking for an exit. When I was sure that they were safe from Tomorrow, I kicked my leg sharply behind me and the grip on my wrists loosened as Tomorrow fell to the floor, in pain that she would not have been in a couple of months ago when I first saw her creepy.
So Tomorrow’s got a dong now? Why is her crotch suddenly a hit zone that works? And didn’t you try that move when you were fighting in the stadium? Why does it work now when it didn’t then?
“Where are you?” I screamed as loud as I could as I dashed away from Tomorrow and in the direction that Riki and Rave had gone to find an exit. I turned the corner and climbed up a boiling metal ladder that was mounted onto the wall, burning and blistering my hands in the process from the heat.
Being that the hands have some of the most sensitive skin in the whole body, I highly doubt that you would be able to get up that ladder. Besides, couldn’t you just fly out if you’re so indestructible?
“Where are you?”
“We’re over here!” A faint cry emanated from behind me. I turned around and saw Riki and Rave knelt before a charred window, desperately trying to undo the latch that prevented them from escaping outside.
You’d all be either unconscious or dead by now.
“Here! Let me help you with the latch!” I rushed over to the window and quickly unlatched the latch, then stepped back as the air whooshed with changing air pressures. The smoke blew past us as it raced to get out of the window.
“What do we do now?” Rave was screaming. “You’re the only one that can fly. What do we do?”
Jump like the rest of us plebeians.
I had an idea. I grabbed Rave and held her tightly around the waist as I jumped out the window and started flying away from the burning building. Riki was getting ready to just jump out of the window.
Wouldn’t the blood loss from the burn wounds you’re sustaining keep you from exerting that much effort without fainting and plummeting? Just a thought for next time, G.
We flew a while away from the building until I got tired. We found a relatively clear patch of land and I crash-landed, rolling over and over with Rave until we came to a stop.
I was under the impression that you had a thing for Tomorrow, Algeria.
“Now what?” I whispered as I realized that I was worn out and I had burns and bruises all over my body. Rave was already drifting off into Oblivion or La La Land- I couldn’t tell.
Now, Algeria, you have to wait for medical care. After treatment, you have to get out of the country. No exceptions. You’re a targeted girl now.
Maybe I could finally go hide in Alaska like I was planning to before I got tangled in all this mess.
All of a sudden, I was overcome with a desire to just lay down and rest for a while, just as I could see the fire helicopters coming to extinguish the fire and save us from the middle of nowhere.
And I closed my eyes.
I would introduce a drinking game for this, but I care enough about my readers not to attempt to induce alcohol poisoning. I think I’m going to go reignite some old interests now and drown my sorrows in them.