First time in the coastal district {Open to everyoneeee}
Jun 1, 2016 4:19:20 GMT -5
Post by gunner, d9 ₊⊹ 👹 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Jun 1, 2016 4:19:20 GMT -5
 “Working is my hobby” L U K E C O L L I N S - D I S T R I C T 7 Since he was a young boy, still playing with wooden swords and during heavy showers, he overheard tales about the coastal district from numerous people. They frequently used the adjectives; “beautiful”, “refreshing” and “amusing” to describe the place. From all those people, one was not a stranger to him. It was his grandfather who—as he likes to think—had been resting in heaven for two years. He was not even sure if the contents of his stores exist in reality but he assumed it was in existent, mostly because he wanted to picture what it would be like in his head. He felt the steady pace of his heartbeat shifting slightly when he stepped out of the vehicle. His mind was racing at the same time with excitement and thoughts, generally about his grandfather’s stories. A puff of air escaped from his soft pink lips as he took some steps, jogging down the steps of the train station. His concentration was pinned on the damaged cobblestones, he didn’t realize the horrifying sight facing him. But, the time that he moves his sight forward came when a huge debris blocked his way. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Natural disasters, he had learnt about those in school. A natural phenomenon that causes great damage and loss of life with no one to blame for. This is the force it had, this is what it was capable of doing. He took a full glance over the shattered district, taking in details about most of everything. Houses were ruined and reduced into nothing but rubble and wreckage. Some remains of buildings had an eerie feeling to it because of the people who were sealing up bags that are clearly indicated to contain lifeless bodies of the people of district 4. The lump in his throat had already formed but vanished hastily but he gulped it down. His ramble led him across remains and to a building that seems to have been newly constructed. The sign of it dug an important message back into his mind from his pile of complex thoughts; he was here to volunteer for aiding the refugees and rebuilding the district back into something beautiful, into something that his grandfather described. — — — It was the beginning of his third day at district 4. His head was pounding and no matter how much quantity of water he drinks, his throat remains dry like the Sahara desert in summer. Luke sensed his body temperature raging slightly—he guessed it was about 100*c—but he didn’t take the warning that his mind was giving. His morning routine was going out to the most wrecked parts of the district and search for any remaining survivors of the frightening disaster. It commonly takes hours and they would only find 3 or 2 individuals, injured greatly and in immediate need of medication. Wandering around didn’t disappoint him but those people does. The sight of them suffering and screaming in agony was extreme for him. After the search duty, comes the logging duty assigned to the people of district 7. Lumbering and load pulling were two of his professions. But, he could say today was his unfortunate day. Comparing the lumber he got yesterday to the amount he got today would be funny and unbelievable. After two swings of the axe, his arm muscles went into a fury and begun aching. Every breath from his nostril and lips were flaming hot. He palmed the bark of the tree for support, shaking his head in order to prevent the light-headedness from seeping in. He understood the risks of walking at the moment and knew that he would stumble and fall flat on face. His legs, unable to give him support, dropped to the ground along with his masculine body. The vision of his eyes was now coated with a blur although his other senses worked finely. He could hear the faint sound of other workers running in his direction and hopefully give him medical treatment. That was the last thought he had when he blacked-out. |
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