This is what I actually have. I made my grandma proofread it so I'll post the original and hers. Note to self: change the intro, it sucks ass.
The thick, treaded tires of the all-terrain truck he had slid for several feet as the petal in the cab commanded them to come to a complete stop. The truck slid smoothly through the sand as a young teen stumbled out, nearly losing his balance and collapsing in the hot, fine earth. He ran quickly around to the passenger side and ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the scene of a very recent accident.
His father laid face down in the sand, a dark crimson pool quickly forming beneath him. His trophy truck laid behind him a few feet away, damaged beyond repair.
The teen crumbled to the ground at his father's side. He grasped his hand tightly, although he knew it was too late to do anything. His eyelids started fluttering as his son watched the life slip slowly out of him, falling in and out of consciousness. The teen squeezed his father's hand and with all his heart could manage that something would help his father live just a moment longer.
Somewhere far off in the distance, the teen could hear the sirens on his makeshift town, Silvan. The sirens represented the day was coming to an end. Night was near, and nobody wanted to be outside the walls of the city once the sun went down. Dozens of odd creatures came out and wondered the ruins of the leftover cities and sands that remained from the huge worldwide nuclear disaster. Mutations of all strengths and abilities fought all other lifeforms just because they could. Nobody knew exactly how the mutations came about but it's commonly believed that it's simply a result of the massive amounts of radiation left over in the world. Nowhere in the area seemed to provide decent protection from the mutations, the scavengers, the traders and the Gifters, the area's cruelest coalition. They drove around in their vehicles, shooting and looting everything for the simple reason that they could.
Over the soft, sharp roar of the sirens, the teen, Warren McKaid, could hear the grinding of an approaching off-road vehicle. It wasn't long before it came into view, a short, white van with a red plus signs that were sloppily spraypainted on the sides. The van was lifted several inches in the air with massive grooved tires that were caressed by the sand.
"How can the medics be here already?" Warren asked himself, quietly, squinting towards the approaching vehicle.
GRANDMA'S EDIT
The thick, treaded tires of the all-terrain truck he hadslid for several feet as the petal in the cab commanded them to come to a complete stop. The truck slid smoothly through the sand as a young teen stumbled out, nearly losing his balance and collapsing in the hot, fine earth. He ran quickly around to the passenger side and ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the scene of a very recent accident.
His father lay face-down in the sand, a dark crimson pool quickly forming beneath him. His trophy truck lay behind him a few feet away, damaged beyond repair.
The teen crumbled to the ground at his father's side. He grasped his hand tightly, although he knew it was too late to do anything. His eyelids started fluttering as his son watched the life slip slowly out of away from him, falling in and out of consciousness. The teen squeezed his father's hand and with all his heart could manage that something would help his father live just a moment longer.
Somewhere far off in the distance, the teen could hear the sirens on his makeshift town, Silvan. The sirens represented the day was coming to an end. Night was near, and nobody wanted to be outside the walls of the city once the sun went down set. Dozens of odd creatures came out and wondered the ruins of the leftover cities and sands that remained from the huge worldwide nuclear disaster. Mutations of all strengths and abilities fought all other lifeforms just because they could. Nobody knew exactly how the mutations came about but it's it was commonly believed that it's it was simply a result of the massive amounts of radiation left over in the world. Nowhere in the area seemed to provide decent protection from the mutations, the scavengers, the traders and the Gifters, the area's cruelest coalition. They drove around in their vehicles, shooting and looting everything for the simple reason that they could.
Over the soft, sharp roar of the sirens, the teen, Warren McKaid (mention name in beginning), could hear the grinding of an approaching off-road vehicle. It wasn't long before it came into view, a short, white van with a red plus signs that were sloppily spraypainted on the sides. The van was lifted several inches in the air with massive grooved tires that were caressed by found traction in the sand.
"How can the medics be here already?" Warren asked himself, quietly, squinting towards the approaching vehicle.
So yeah. New poll.
Poll