User:Panic!out/Workshop

User:Panic!out User talk:Panic!out User:Panic!out/Workshop User:Panic!out/Current_favorit_subjects Wikipedia:Research User:Panic!out/Contributions Home (en · es) Talk To do Interests Research Contribs Writing I am working on the beginnings of a fantasy story, which I hope will one day be published. Here is an excerpt; it is the first paragraph of the story. Enjoy! Peter felt his way in the dark cave, pressing his hands against the chilly rock wall. It was almost silent – he could barely hear the merciless taunts of the other orphan boys inside his head. He closed his eyes, trying to push their words out of his ears, concentrating on every step, every movement of his fingers, clutching at the rock. He focused on keeping his body moving; it distracted his mind from reminding him that he was alone. It’s actually nice, for a change, to be alone, he thought, smirking slyly. But still, a tremor of fear seared through his mind. Wincing, he took another cautious step forward and slipped, causing him to clamp his teeth on his tongue. He tasted blood. Peter stood there, hanging from a wobbling ledge, forcing his tired hands to hang on. He groped in the darkness for another foothold, but there were none. He shut his eyes and concentrated. He could get out of this. He focused on his breathing. Breathe, he thought. In, out. In, out. Someone will find me, surely. In, out. The violent mental tremors slowly subsided with every slow breath. He stood in that spot what felt like hours; he could hear nothing. Peter winced again, his muscles becoming so tight that one of his hands slipped yet again. Peter’s mind bolted into shock. No! he shouted in his mind. Don’t you dare let go! he said to his body. But it was only a matter of minutes before his other hand would give up and he would lose his hold completely. Peter looked down, but he could see nothing below him. All he could see in the damp cave was the rough outline of shapes in the darkness. And then it came. His hand gave one last painful effort, and Peter looked at it, almost pleading it to hold on longer. But it slipped. Peter felt as if he had been punched in the chest and blackness devoured his mind. Was this what it was like to die? he wondered. He felt a cold rush of air all around his body. His limbs were lifeless, feeling comfortable and contorted at the same time. Peter struggled to stay awake as he fell, but the life in his mind gave out. His form continued to fall headlong into the black abyss, and darkness overtook him. College I'm working on getting a scholarship by playing travel softball (the same thing as club), hopefully to a good Catholic college, where I plan on majoring in English. I'd like a job in journalism.