ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
They blow up homes, steal from the weak, lie for "the greater good", but my hearts still ticking. Ticking like their bombs. They may have tried to kill me off, to shut me up, but let me make my actions as crisp as winter rain; I'm not going anywhere.
My house is made of metal, dials and twisting wires. It's a '50's classic. The door also doubles as my window and lookout. Pretty neat, eh? Although there isn't a lot of room and the walls are quite leaky at best, I got over my claustrophobia fast enough and it doesn't really rain much anymore. Plus, I can 'fend for myself.
Growing up in the city teaches you to grow up fast. Behind me is Mr. Tuler's automobile shop. It used to be my papi's, but a bomb headed for the country's capital was misplaced and detonated here instead. Eight died. My mama, my papi, my four siblings, and two everyday commuters I never knew. People took the remaining things worth of value, my mama's jewelry around her neck, my papi's beer in the fridge, my sisters' dolls sleeping in their arms, my brother's trains sprawled across the ground...did they not see they were stepping on graves? Did they not see that there was a boy whimpering with tears running down his cheeks? Or did they just ignore me and my weak nature?
When the government officials came to inspect the damage, they kicked the innocent with their filthy feet in shiny shoes, rolling the bloodied bodies around the rumble. I watched from the television set—the glass face was shattered enough for me to hide inside of it—I heard them snicker.
"Better 'em than us," said the fat one.
The others in pinstriped suits nodded in agreement.
"Imagine! Our capital, almost in chaos!" the only female in the group shrilled. Her fingers wrapped around one of the toy trains. With her other hand she reached for her puffy stomach and patted it. "We should all celebrate, for our family, our country will live another day!"
"Agreed." The fat one said nodding, closing his eyes, "Come on now, we must tell the people there is nothin' to fear."
My short, quick breaths were met by the awful smell of terror and sweat. When their stomps faded, I sprung out of the television. Running to the basement, I snatched my papi's gun and clenched it. My red hands ached as my fingers gripped the gun. Stepping closer to the only true remnants of my home, I crept back into the television.
I'm not believing anything without a fight.
My house is made of metal, dials and twisting wires. It's a '50's classic. The door also doubles as my window and lookout. Pretty neat, eh? Although there isn't a lot of room and the walls are quite leaky at best, I got over my claustrophobia fast enough and it doesn't really rain much anymore. Plus, I can 'fend for myself.
Growing up in the city teaches you to grow up fast. Behind me is Mr. Tuler's automobile shop. It used to be my papi's, but a bomb headed for the country's capital was misplaced and detonated here instead. Eight died. My mama, my papi, my four siblings, and two everyday commuters I never knew. People took the remaining things worth of value, my mama's jewelry around her neck, my papi's beer in the fridge, my sisters' dolls sleeping in their arms, my brother's trains sprawled across the ground...did they not see they were stepping on graves? Did they not see that there was a boy whimpering with tears running down his cheeks? Or did they just ignore me and my weak nature?
When the government officials came to inspect the damage, they kicked the innocent with their filthy feet in shiny shoes, rolling the bloodied bodies around the rumble. I watched from the television set—the glass face was shattered enough for me to hide inside of it—I heard them snicker.
"Better 'em than us," said the fat one.
The others in pinstriped suits nodded in agreement.
"Imagine! Our capital, almost in chaos!" the only female in the group shrilled. Her fingers wrapped around one of the toy trains. With her other hand she reached for her puffy stomach and patted it. "We should all celebrate, for our family, our country will live another day!"
"Agreed." The fat one said nodding, closing his eyes, "Come on now, we must tell the people there is nothin' to fear."
My short, quick breaths were met by the awful smell of terror and sweat. When their stomps faded, I sprung out of the television. Running to the basement, I snatched my papi's gun and clenched it. My red hands ached as my fingers gripped the gun. Stepping closer to the only true remnants of my home, I crept back into the television.
I'm not believing anything without a fight.
This piece is actually inspired off of something I wrote when looking at a photograph in my art class. Hope you enjoy it!
Is it clear that his "home" in the second paragraph is an old television?
What moods and feelings are brought to the table when you read this?
Do you like the character's voice?
critique:[link]
Is it clear that his "home" in the second paragraph is an old television?
What moods and feelings are brought to the table when you read this?
Do you like the character's voice?
critique:[link]
© 2012 - 2024 saevuswinds
Comments5
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Overall Vision Originality Technique ImpactI started to really like your writing. It is dramatic, but not over dramatic. It's subjects vary, but they are always general, and we can all relate to them.
Firstly, I thought the whole piece revolved around one idea which lies within the dialogue "Better 'em than us". I personally understood that the main character represents the majority of people, sustaining, suffering, and even dieing for the fatness of certain "powerful" individuals.
To answer your first question. No, it didn't seem clear at first, from the second paragraph, that his home was a television. I just imagined a weird small home, but not that small.
As for the second question, I can certainly tell you that it arose a bit of anger and frustration on the representative officials and sadness and pity for the scared boy.
The voice of the characters were deeply affected by their description and actions and therefore perfectly fit.
Overall, another great piece. Congrats.