Metal Corpse (Incomplete, see description)

I'm taking a writing class at my highschool and I have to share some of my work with the public. I'm reluctant to do so (because I don't want anyone to steal my ideas) so I'm only sharing a small bit.

There once was a little girl who lived in a hole in the ground. She wasn’t a hobbit and this wasn’t a hobbit hole. This was a hull off a ship that crashed long ago, and the decades that went by had covered it with sand, stone and debris. A hatch concealed a tunnel with a thin, rusting ladder that led down to bowls of a once space bound beauty, now condemned to waste away to dust and join the unforgiving storms of a hateful world.

            This tale details the final moments she spent in the metal corpse.

            On a day following many misadventures (stealing from a crazed alcoholic, the gruesome death of her beloved Seven, disgruntling the most murderous outlaw on the Continent) she once again descended into the creaking mess, this time weighing her decisions and resolution heavily in her mind. The ladder took her to the kitchen, where a few young children sat around a circular metal table, nibbling and poking at scraps of thin meat. On the counter a scrawny lad was loading his machine gun, pausing to blow his tangled greasy locks out of his face.

            She strode past them all, declining their offer of food and entered her room. It was a bunker with twelve mats lining the floor, one for each child. Trinkets and paper birds hung from the ceiling by string, and a small bookcase was in the corner with a crummy record player resting on top. Screws stuck out of the wall and bits of rust piled on the floor. The twins were nesting on their ‘beds’, arguing over which had the better toy (a small soldier with no face or right leg, or a stuffed sloth with ratty fur and no eyes). She went to her area and began to collect the few possessions that she had. Among the items were her best goggles, a patchwork doll with pins sticking out of it, a few blouses, a poster of a long dead musical band (they were dealt with by an exorcist because their music was so good it was sinful), a whistle still in prime condition and a scarf so beautiful she wished deeply she had a nice place to wear it. Last but not least she packed her favorite books carefully. She loved them so much she kept them hidden under her mattress because she didn’t want the others to contaminate their pages with their stupidity and germs. Before leaving she smacked both the twins on their heads with her satchel and reminded them how much their God did not like bickering amongst family.

Author's Note

Again, see description.

Reviews

[Lord Guru]

I think this is good, but I have a feeling the rest is going to be better. What is the overall plot supposed to be? This seems like something with great potential, but don't make it boring. I'm thinking maybe their bunker comes under attack and they all have to fight/flee? That's just me though. You keep doing your thing.
I've also written a sort of post-apocalyptic story. My story, 'Alex' features corrupt police replaced by brutal robots, rebellion, epic fight and action sequences. It would be great if you could check it out. Make sure you tell me when your story is complete, because I really want to see how it turns out!

[Andrew Dane Parker]

Well I like the concept, however there isn't enough for me. And I wouldn't be worried about someone stealing your idea, because it's YOURS and even if someone tried to take it, they probably wouldn't do as good of a job at telling it. But anyway, I think this would make a great book, and I would also love your opinions on my work. Keep up the creative writing and just go for it!