I am practicing writing a story for what is called Florida Writes. It is this test that is scored 1-6 and decides if you are going to be put in remediation for high school. I have to get at least a 4 to pass. I am going to practice my writing skills on the forum, and can you give me feedback on sentence structure skills, grammar, etc?
Here I go.
Another day in the Gulf Commonwealth. Or that is what it used to be called. You see, back 123 years ago, China, the U.S., and Russia attempted to put a hole in the sky by launching hundreds of nuclear weapons at eachother. But that doesn't matter now, what does matter is the awful conditions of the Gulf Wasteland. My family comes from vault 156, (I know there where only 122 vaults, but i don't care.) a control vault built in the city of Tampa. The vault was built to protect people from the destruction of the atomic bomb, and for them to repopulate after the door opened. The door was designed to stay closed for 50 years before opening, but it malfunctioned, prolonging the lockdown for another 17 years. What happened was the hinges bent and the arm to release the door couldn't extend fully. No one knows how, but the door finally opened.
After my grandfather's generation escaped the close-corridors of the vault, they had plenty of trouble getting used to life outside. The nearby settlement of Lil' Gator took them in. The spread out skyscrapers of downtown Tampa could be seen from Lil' Gator, although they resembled nothing of the pictures in the vault. Those skyscrapers were tall and proud, and gleamed in the sunlight. These ones though, were small and gray, crumbling and buckling.
Fast forward 50 years, and here I am. 23 years old. My name is Roger Croelle, and I work for the Watchmen. The watchmen is basically a group of people who try to keep order in Cigarro. (Used to be called Tampa, I got this name because it's nickname is Cigar City) There is a 20 foot high perimeter wall around Cigarro, to keep the raiders and bandits out. No one ever dares to venture into the irradiated downtown area, because it so intensely irradiated that a ghoul wouldn't dare step into it. From what I've heard of ghouls, they look like zombies, their faces pretty much melted off from radiation.. Horribly mutated from radiation, most of them went feral after losing the ability to reason. MacDill Airforce base serves as the main base for the People's Gulf Republic, who want to control the area. Without then, the watchmen wouldn't exist, and I wouldn't get my steady 50 caps an hour. Without caps, I would be just like those wasteland scavengers, always trying to find pre-war garbage. You know the saying, caps make the world go 'round! Although a lot of people claim them as tyrants, I see nothing wrong with them ruling the area.
The PGR (People's Gulf Republic) managed to repair the runway of MacDill and keep some of the planes up and running. Sometimes you can see these flying machines going overhead. Rumor has it that these "planes" have weapons on them. Not those little tiny pistols that you see everyday, but they shoot things that explode. Not that anyone believes that. How would you control this weapon? I turn over and fall asleep.
Another rust storm this morning. Microscopic peices of rusted metal blow in the wind. Stay out there too long, and you will suffocate, even if you don't it is very bad to have tiny peices of rusted metal in your lungs. I quickly get up and close the windows. I gazed outside, and wondered what pre-war life was like. Everyone probably owned a plane. Oh what fun it would be to fly one! With all the food they had, no one starved to death! I bet that the world was a peaceful and loving place. Heh, yeah right, I thought. I sat down and started cleaning my revolver.
I'll continue later. TL;DR: READ IT YOU starfish
I drew this picture in paint out of boredom, too lazy to upload it.
