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Describe a nightmare world. I stopped dead in my tracks, as if my feet had been suddenly glued to the shattered tiles. In my mouth, I had detected a distinct metallic dampness rising from my throat.

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Describe a nightmare world. Hannah Wright. Plan; * In the middle of a war. * 3 friends hiding from soldiers in a supermarket hours after it was bombed. * One friend dies while hiding after being shot by a soldier. * The other two then, while trying to reach the exit, have to avoid the murderous military officers. Jammed tightly between the flimsy metal partition of a shelving unit and hefty crate of canned goods, I drew quiet, shallow breaths and tried to ignore the severe pins and needles shooting through my legs, lower back and neck - it was like a thousand needles stabbing at me repeatedly. I knew it hadn't been that long, but it seemed like I'd been taking cover, wedged in this shelf, for months now. If Ross hadn't been crammed like a sardine into the space my now numb legs had claimed, I could've operated my fatal exit with far greater ease. I stared resentfully at the slumped Ross. He wasn't even awake. He wasn't even keeping to his side of the shelf. He wasn't even trying to help me. He wasn't even- my eyes were fixed on his chest, desperately hoping for movement. "...Jesus Ross, we were in this together." ...He wasn't even breathing. ...read more.


This ment his head was forced to limply hang over the rim of the belt buckle, cutting into his skin. I had decided to by pass looking at Ross again. Horribly, I was sandwiched between two dead men and either way I darted my eyes, one of them was always in view. I tried to keep my eyes locked elsewhere; I peered out through the gap again. With an enormous burning hate, I was overly bitter but still awfully terrified about the war our country was fighting, and surely, losing. If I tipped my skull back, as if I was trying to make it touch my spine, while still making use of the gap alongside the crate, my eyes were met with the gaping hole left in the sky high roof of the supermarket. I stared in awe at the peaceful mix of an orangey red and light blue sky. The night was arriving quickly again; I watched the light disappear from the clouds. I knew if I was going to escape, it was at night that I had to do it. The dense shadows created an extra niche around every corner. ...read more.


My ribs ached. Then they began to sting. My knees gave in. I collapsed helplessly to the ground in a heap. I felt my eyes rolling in their sockets. I couldn't prevent my whole body shaking vigorously. I tried to breathe smoothly, but each time I exhaled I groaned and snorted like some sort of animal. I allowed my head to touch the ground; I let my mind assess my situation before I acted upon it. My thoughts weren't flowing; it was as if my brain had already given up on me. My arms refused to lift to the injured area, my back was hot, my ribs were hot, I craned my head round to my wound as much as I could. Shot. I'd been shot. The pain wasn't as overwhelmingly powerful as one would expect. I was now completely numb. My head lolled back and smashed off the tiled floor. I stared down the central aisle at the two soldiers I had seen earlier. As soon as they'd made sure I'd caught them clocking me. They walked in the opposite direction, and left me trembling in a large pool of my own blood. Like the sand emptying from an hour glass, I felt my blood escape my veins at a frighteningly rapid pace. I was surely going to die. ...read more.

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