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Feathers: Ch. 2Raezelle looked around. It was a good thing she lived in the middle of nowhere; if she lived in town someone would've noticed the light crashing through her roof.
She couldn't see any sign of the birds... until the light glinting off a bright feather on the ground caught her eye. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, then bent to examine the object more closely. Drops of amazingly bright red blood stained the soft plume, bringing the image of her parents to her eyes. She wiped away the tears roughly and forced herself not to think about it, and to concentrate on saving the bird. For some reason it was the most important thing in the world to her at that moment.
Raezelle ran through town breathlessly, ignoring yells that followed her as she pushed past people, just chasing the trail of black and white feathers dancing in the wind, until she reached a small crowd of people.
She shoved her way through to the front, where a few small kids were chanting things like 'Fight
Feathers: Ch.1The teenage girl with silvery-blonde hair was huddled in the corner of her empty room. Tears ran down Raezelle's cheeks, and every few seconds her body shuddered as she sobbed. She couldn't belive what had just happened. How could her parents do that to her? One minute, fine, the next, they had decided they wanted to die together. She shut her eyes tight but the image of her parents bodies entwined, blood soaking through the white bedsheets, was implanted on the backs of her eyelids.
Suddenly a loud crash filled her ears, and a bright white glowing object shaped like a small bird swept past her, down through the floorboards to the room below. Behind it came a flash of black, persuing the white bird like an arrow. She leapt to her feet with a yell, then took a nervous step forward. Leaning over the hole in the floor, she could see the two creatures. The black was on top of the white, and it looked like they were fighting... and the white was losing. She turned and ran down the st
AerosolIt has been a day and a half since the crash, and I have found a cabin. In some ways, this is a relief. I don’t know if I could face another night on the mountain without shelter. Outside, a fire does no good: the heat simply travels upwards. However, this place also raises some difficult questions. I estimate that I’ve put eight miles between myself and the crash site. I don’t know if this will be enough. It Saving...
occurs to me that I don’t really know anything.
The survival manual recommends staying with the plane. It explains that this affords the best chance of rescue. It explains that the wreckage offers warmth and shade. It explains that seventy percent of pilots who stay are located within three days, while seventy percent of those who leave are
Stuck The car sputtered and shook as it came to an almost silent stop. The engine had gone silent as the horn beeped loudly through the dark night. The orange gas light blinked mockingly at the woman behind the wheel. It was making fun of her; she knew it was making fun of her. Grabbing the black cellular phone on the passenger seat, she looked at it with full intention of calling somebody to come help her.
“Oh, what the hell?!”
The “no service” sign was mocking her at the same exact time. The horn beeped loudly as she slammed her head against it once again. The day was out to get her in general. She had arrived at all her classes late, and her son was sick with the flu. The babysitter was able to watch him as she went to her late night classes. Giving a heavy sigh, she lifted her head off the wheel to look out the window. Drops of water pooled on the windshield as rain started to fall in a pitter-patter pattern. She didn’t quite understand the message th
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