#old assignment

Also, this was Rescue bots inspired. So, of anyone wants to read, fewl free to do so because it's in the right format.

Also, this is in first person pov if that is not your cup of tea.

--

Melancholy

Well, here I was, standing in front of the new, huge firehouse, an unreadable expression on my face. I took a deep breath and walked in.

Inside, lots of things buzz about, filling the room with lots of sounds.

Before I even made it near the stairs, Ray came up to me, "Randy! I’m so happy that we’ll be working together again!” she said, excitement glinting in her eyes.

I shrugged, “I guess, though we’re still on completely different jobs.”

Ray playfully huffed before noticing my bag, “Looking for your room? I’ll help! I had a chance to explore more of the firehouse and-”

She yapped on and at that point I stopped listening. I mean, I was still listening but wasn’t paying attention.

Ray led me to my room, “Here we are!” She announced, motioning to the door like it held a prize behind it.

I murmured a thanks, opened it and walked in.

The room was pretty small but it served its purpose.

Ray leaned against the doorframe, “Wow, so every room is the same. How boring.” She commented, “Well, I gotta go now. See ya!” She waved enthusiastically and walked off.

Don’t know how Ray manages to do it, being all happy even though she saw more people die than I did.

I sat down on the bed and laid back. This is my third year of being a firefighter.

You’re probably thinking I hate my job, I don’t.

I love rescuing and protecting people from fires and other emergencies. I’m also really fond of the mechs they’ve given us a year ago.

I wonder if Azul, the mech we use for fire rescues, is here yet.

These mechs are very important to me, they’re the last things my grandpa worked on before he died in the year of the 2nd Fire.

In my arms.

May 12, 2032.

I shake off the memory and get un-packing.

The next day, I passed by the training room and saw Azul, using the holo-projector to train. I greet him and we do our little fist-bump thingy.

Before I could speak, General’s voice came up from behind, “Randy, Azul.”

I stood at attention.

He strode to us, his face serious as ever, “Estanika is currently going through war which in turn, is causing lots of fires and emergencies in the country. We are sending EMTs and fire responders to help.”

I gave a small sharp nod. He nodded back and left.

Azul rubbed the back of his helm and gave me a small smile, “Well, guess we’re starting the year off with some excitement, huh?”

I managed to do a small chuckle, “Heh, yeah.”

Two hours later, they announced preparations to aid Estanika. I watched as people rushed around, commands being given, and the sounds of the mechs being loaded up.

Memories started flooding my brain of last year’s fire. The sounds of others ordering me to get out through my comms, the heat against my skin, tears falling down my face, the sounds of fire engulfing everything, Azul screaming for me to get out.

My grandpa gone.

Right there.

In my arms.

May 12, 2032.

I rubbed both of my hands down my face, taking a deep breath.

“Quick! This way!”

I motioned as I led a group of Estanikan people through the unburnt path, “Azul! Over here! The flames are getting bigger!” I shouted through the comms as I helped up a person who tripped.

Azul shouted back, “My water reserves are running out! I’m gonna have to reload!”

As the flames got higher and the shouts got louder, I began panicking. My eyes were wider, my breathing was uneven. I saw a few elderly get engulfed in flames, giving me memories of last year.

Then, I heard a scream and immediately ran toward it, a small huddle of people were stuck in a ditch, shouting out in Estanikan.

I began pulling people up one at a time, the flames on the other side getting bigger and warmer, threatening to jump on to the side we were on.

Thankfully, Azul sprayed water on the flames, grabbed the remaining people, and took them somewhere safe.

I heard more screams and bolted to them.

I don’t even remember what happened, all I know is that everything was going too fast and yet so slow. All I could feel was pain, both physically and mentally. Words and screams became a blur and all I told myself was, “Don’t let them die” over and over.

And yet, I did.

Each time I was rescuing someone, someone else died. The memory of last year kept repeating again and again.

I don’t even know how but soon the fire was out and I was in the warehouse, absently watching Ray take care of patients.

My gaze shifted to the other side of the warehouse, where covered dead bodies lay.

I started shaking, then breathing heavily, and before I knew it, I was crying.

Azul came over, kneeling down as he gently, softly patted my back with his digit.

I cried more before I spoke, “Why? Why couldn’t I save everyone?”

I gestured to the covered bodies, I was almost shouting, a waterfall of tears running down my face.

Azul looked at me and didn’t say anything for a moment. He exhaled through his vents then spoke, “Stop looking over to that side.”

He gently turned my head to the other side of the room, “And look at this side.”

I wiped my tears off my face as I did so.

Groups of Estanikan families hugged each other, their faces held pure overwhelming joy. A couple of kids ran around, shouting playful Estanikan words to each other.

“They wouldn’t be here if we -you, weren’t there. I may not understand grief or loss real well, but,” he spoke to me in the softest, most compassionate tone I’ve ever heard from a mech, “I do understand that life stinks and it’s sad. Sadness tends to be a majority of it but there is joy. It’s still there, no matter how much loss and grief there is.”

I’ve thought of his words since then.

Death is terrible but sorrow and grief is necessary for it, just as love and joy for life. These two things make life both sad and joyful.

Melancholy.

I breathed, my tears coming to a slow stop, “Thanks.” I whispered as the sounds of life passed by.

---

If you couldn't tell, Azul was inspired by Heatwave but his personality was based off Boulder.

The Masterlist

Hio Everybody, 

So I have been away from the laptop for a few days after being very busy with my jobs and family coming in to visit, so I haven’t had time to write much. 

Either way, I was combing through old files tonight and found a series of old assignments for a creative writing class I took and decided to publish them. I will let you know however that these will not edited and some are very short. Like very short. 

Before each short story, I will do my best to explain the reason behind the assignment. For this one, it was conflict writing. The Professor wanted to test our skills with writing conflicts unfolding and happening. 

Enjoy, I guess.

Love you all, 

Pandemonium

-------------------------------------------------------------

 Conflict Writing Exercise

The music floated softly around the kitchen and mixed with the sounds of sizzling bacon. Alex stood before the large stove watching the sunny sky slowly begin turning to a darkened black.  

They were due for rain in her small rural town and she loved the feeling on her skin. She hummed along to the next song on the radio as she turned the bacon over in the pan.  

It was mid-afternoon and because Alex had woken up at 11, she had decided to make an early dinner. She was having her best friend Alanna’s family over tonight and they were due to come within an hour.  

Allana’s daughter and husband were bacon fiends, so she was making at least four pounds. She too had a bacon addiction. One that would only be cured with more bacon.  

Suddenly, a gut feeling had her turning the stove off and making her way outside. Phone in hand so she could keep listening to the radio. She turned it up once she made it to the porch caught the tail end of what the weatherman was saying, “Tornado warning in affect...”  

She turned it off, she couldn’t listen to anymore. Alex was on the phone in an instant and calling Alanna, “Don’t come over.”

She could hear the confusion as her friend spoke. “What? Alex why not?”

“We are under tornado warning...” She choked out. The wind was beginning to pick up. “It’s going to happen Al, I can feel it. Don’t come over. You don’t live in the area and I want you to be safe.”

The pleading in her voice convinced her friend to agree not to come with the family and they said their goodbyes.  

Alex looked briefly over at the darkening clouds. The wind was growing harder and whipped her brown locks across her face stinging her cheeks. She pulled it into a ponytail to keep it out of her face. A storm was coming. It was a time that most people would be panicking, yet Alex was calm only for a few moments as the brief hope that it wasn’t coming continued jumbling in her mind.  

The sirens began blaring into the afternoon scrambling people from their rural homes and dragging them to shelters nestled deep beneath the Earth’s surface. Alex now began to tremble.  

Alex was terrified of tornadoes. After the death of her parents on her 16th birthday, her fascination for the powerful storms had turned to fear. A paralyzing fear that ran so deep she was traumatized even 10 years later.  

It was well before the storm was to arrive and she was moving on automatic to the only security she had in these moments. She glanced out again watching as the tornado formed maybe a kilometer in front of her and moving towards her.  

She was about to close the door when a shrill cry caught her attention. She saw a mama with her kittens. She wasn’t going to leave them behind even if it meant she would need to leave her shelter and get them. She searched for a box to put them all in quickly.  

She found what she was looking for and started forward as the tornado raced to meet her. She was at them in a minute and scooping them all into a box.  

She swore to herself when the mama was being uncooperative and continuously scratched and growled at her. “DO YOU WANT TO DIE!!!” She cried out in panic as the tornado crept even closer.  

The writing below is an excerpt from one of my english project back in secondary school. I fixed some part and rephrased some lines because it was too awkward and kind of personal, but I did not edit parts out nor did I alter the flow of the writing. The project was some essays compiled together into a small magazine and this particular part is a reflection of myself as a writer at that time. Of course I feel somewhat different about myself now, as I have realised that I am not as cheerful as before, honestly. And I have somewhat grown emotionally, although I am still quite sarcastic. Well, read on and get a firsthand look inside my 14 years old mind. 

Inspired by that assignment in Hint Fiction’s I had in Uni.

“Only the Teddy Bear saw, as Papa dug a shallow grave.”

 Hello again lovelies! <3 I just published something new on my wattpad! The description of it is on the page and, if any of you like Scifi, or fiction short stories or books, I recommend this for you. Now I probably have to tweak and do some editing here and there, but depending on what kind of reaction I get, maybe I will make this into a series? Who knows! :)

Feel free to comment if you want, I'd so appreciate it if you do. It can really help me if I have honest criticism and support.