trapped. a creative writing excerciseA Story by brianna vegaEverything was white. Pecks of green peeked out through the hurling snow. All was silent except for the howling wind flinging anything in its path into chaos. Half buried in the snow there was a cabin, golden lights glowing dimly through the half exposed frosted windows. Inside Jacob paced across the hardwood floor onto the plush rug next to the fireplace and back into the kitchen. Amy lay under a cover watching silently. She could feel the lumps in the cushions flattening against her weight. "F**k! I cant take it anymore" he screamed! "Just lay down the more you move the more calories you burn!" Amy replied flatly. They had been locked up in the cabin 3 days longer than planned. "I didn’t want to come here in the first place" he exclaimed, "It was only supposed to be two days its now been five!" "well deal with it." Amy said as she clutched her growling stomach. Avoiding the tears in her eyes she tried to stay strong. She wrapped her icy fingers against the old fleece her grandmother had given her still soft due to the years of hand washing. As she pulled the covers over her she heard the slam of the bathroom door soon followed by the stale smell of a camel 99 drifting from under the door. He really should slow down with that she thought. Hungry Jacob was bad enough but a Jacob with out his smokes was unbearable. I might as well stick on my snow suit and trek out she thought as dozed off into her dreams.
Jacob stared out the window into the blinding white. He felt horrible for being so angry with Amy he knew she couldn’t control the weather any less than he could help the pain in his stomach. Each drag of the cigarette let him forget about the pain a little more. Five days of this glaring white blindness. He hated this snow the howling wind keeping him awake at night, like the sound of howling ghost begging to be let into the cabin. The only thing alive and warm in this icy Sahara. As he sat on the ivory seat he pulled out his notebook and began to scribble furiously into his notebook. His only escape from the dreadful routine of his imprisonment. © 2014 brianna vega |
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1 Review Added on September 10, 2014 Last Updated on September 10, 2014 Authorbrianna vegacity of lost angels, CAAbouti need a moment with the moon no distractions or uneven tunes just silence and the silver light spilling open my moods i need a minute with the night soft caresses of cold wind in the air envelo.. more..Writing
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