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Nothing Left

Writing Rambles #19


Wow! I wrote this one almost two years ago exactly! Just a few days short.

This ones brutal. If I remember correctly, with this prompt we supposed to write as if the MC of our WIP was seeing for the first time the destruction of the bombing of the story world. Though I can’t really remember which WIP I was using for this… Maybe a vague use of Forbidden? Even though bombs don’t exist in that story…

Anyway, it’s a sad one, so buckle up.


As always, if you want to join the fun, write your own story off of the promt before you read mine and post it in the fireside room! I’d love to read it!

Prompt: He slowly opened the hatch to the bomb shelter…


Nothing Left written November 2, 2019

He slowly opened the hatch to the bomb shelter, unsure if his heart was racing or even beating at all. He still couldn’t figure out how to get air back into his lungs. What was this burning, this empty numbing of every sense except for the pain in his lungs? Could he even see? Everything was so white.

Shouldn’t it be black if I can’t see? he thought, and he heard his own voice still inside his head, almost too clearly and yet far off, like an echo from someone else’s mind.

The white grew and intensified, threatening to envelope him, suffocate him. Then he coughed, sputtering out the very last of his breath. He wheezed in and forced air back into his crumpled lungs. A horrible sound must have come from it, but he couldn’t hear it. That’s when he noticed the ringing, a constant high pitched buzzing that somehow muffled and blocked out all other noise. A hand went to his ear and he felt a trickle of something warm. He took in breaths easier now, drinking in the air, but that air coated his tongue in bitter ash. With the new oxygen, however tainted, the white began to clear like a mist parted.

First blurry sights pierced in and then the full assault of the devastation as he focused on the ruin before his face. All at once, he wished the white had stayed, that it had taken him away to its hollow void. Just when he thought he had lost the ability to feel anything, tears brimmed in his eyes and poured down his dirty cheeks.

Everything.

Gone.

Where birds once sang and great beasts reigned, where a mighty forest as ancient as some of the oldest stones once protected them all, was only destruction. Smoldering heaps of still burning ashes, licked with chemical-tainted flames. The very air had become a poisonous fume. The horror of it proved to much for him to bare. And the worst part was, deep down in the most aching parts of his soul, he just knew his family, everyone he knew and loved... were gone.

Nothing was left.


Thanks for reading!


Your captain

Ellie Maureen


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