Number 13

This is a small part of the introductory of the book. I have a plot in mind but would like to see if I am any good at writing.

I hear the footsteps becoming louder and louder. It becomes closer as I continue to gaze through the cracks of the wooden door. I wonder who death is going to take now. I look over my right shoulder and gaze at number twelve. He slowly turns his head and stares at me like a soulless man. He looks through my eyes as though death himself is behind me. His brown shriveled skin wraps around his bones tightly. His green thick veins branches throughout his arms and forehead like a helpless man trapped in a pit full of green snakes wrapping around his body. He turns away and looks down at the chains wrapped around his ankles.

“Thump, Thump, Thump”

The footsteps become louder and my heart beats to its pace. I have been waiting anxiously for this freedom that the days become uncountable. Twenty days? No. Could it already be over a hundred days? I look down at my emaciated chained ankles. Is this what I have become? Number twelve? I turned around and look behind me and there it was. A faded number thirteen printed in thick red paint. Every time I look back I am reminded that I am no longer a human being. The only freedom from this cell is death. 

A shadow figure slowly floats across the window screen.

“Thump, thump, thump”

It stops right in front of the door. My beating heart pauses with the steps. I can see the side of his eyes gazing through the cracks of the wooden door. Is it my turn? Will I finally be free?

“Cell number twenty three, it is the next cell!” he yells.

He walks pass my cell and the footsteps silently fade away. My heart beat continues.

“Thump, thump, thump”

“Cell number twenty four, prisoner number sixteen”, he yells again.

Number sixteen’s freedom echoes across the hall way as the rattling chains fall off his ankles.  He looks at the two men in the black uniform. They both have a red scarf around their necks. He remembers that he once wore a black uniform with a red scarf around his neck. They move his lifeless arm behind his back and cuff them. His yellow eyes are covered with a brown piece of cloth. All the despair and regret he seen with them is now covered in the dark. The footsteps walk across my cell and I can sense number sixteen calmness and serenity.

A few minutes have passed and it is dead silent. Suddenly, I hear a crack in this desert silent air. Number sixteen was set free.

Author's Note

Advice and plenty of it on any grammar, dialogue, and spelling issues.