short story

She was lost. Running, fumbling, already so far from her team and pushing further.

She was being chased, by the kind that rendered humanity to despair – 15 feet tall and strong, mindless humanoid creatures with angry red skin, razor sharp teeth and no concern for human life.

Humanity had united – all those left alive were brought together on central mainland Europe and the community worked fast to protect itself from the invasion that nearly destroyed Earth. No one knew if it was a human disease or an alien invasion but they knew they had to survive.

But humanity couldn’t resist – surviving wasn’t enough, they wanted to dominate and have control of their planet back. So a new army formed.

And she was part of it. She swore she would fight for her life – fight until there was nothing left and she did. The rest of her team were together, she had been separated and she made the decision to lure the Colossal away from her team – she knew she was to die, she wanted to do what she could to make sure they lived.

But she was running out of energy – she knew she wasn’t fighting for her life so why was she still running? Why didn’t she just let herself die?

And then she tripped over and rolled to a stand still, hearing the Colossal’s heavy footsteps catching up. But there was lighter footsteps, fast and getting louder – she looked up in time to see a heavy boot plant in front of her and leap over her.

Suddenly this mysterious woman was taking on the Colossal by herself – she launched herself into the air again, using the tree as a lever to reach his full 15 feet of height and her poised sword cut effortlessly through it’s neck.

The body stopped dead in it’s tracks – the head continuing to roll forward, the body slowly dropping to it’s knees and falling flat on it’s chest.

She had rolled onto her back and the head came to rest at her feet – it’s deep, black, electric eyes still open and staring at her.

Her anonymous saviour sliced her sword up it’s spine and stabbed her sword through it’s head into the ground, as a secondary precaution.

“How? How did you… all of humanity is inside of the walls and no one is allowed outside of the walls unless they are part of the outside attack devision of the army. How are you alive?” The soldier fumbled, scrambling to her feet and matching this anonymous fighter.

The fighter just narrowed her eyes, looking the soldier up and down and smirking.

“Nice coat. Is that your uniform?” The fighter teased, turning to pluck her sword from it’s place in the ground, wiping it clean on the nearest tree’s bark and sliding it back in it’s sheath.

The soldier was taken aback. “Um, yes, it is. You didn’t answer my questions.”

“Because a stupid question from a naive soldier of the Community is irrelevant.”

“Stupi- what do you mean ‘The Community’?”

“What do you call yourselves, the last humans alive?”

“We are-”

“No, if you believe you gathered every human and build a wall around them you were childish and stupid.” The fighter snapped.

The soldier realised. “You were forgotten. You didn’t make the boats, did you?”

The fighter sighed. “There’s a group of us, we’re travelling the world trying to find the rest of the stragglers. We’re going to build another camp – in Australia, start making Earth what it was by actually destroying the Colossal’s.” She snapped.

“How much do you know about them?” The soldier asked.

The fighter scanned her surroundings and shook her head. “There isn’t time – I may fight them but that doesn’t mean I want the Colossal’s to pin point me. I can take you back to the Community wall but you’ll have to get yourself inside.” She promised.

“Come with me.” The soldier begged instantly. “Inside the walls we can talk – compare knowledge, help each other, we can find your friends and make them safe.”

“We don’t want to be part of the Community. We want to take action. I wouldn’t get out again anyway – you said yourself only the army can get out.”

“I can get you in and out, please, just tell us what you know?”

Oh I thoroughly enjoyed that one. Can you tell I binge watched Attack on Titan recently?

I really love writing these posts – I don’t know why I don’t let them inspire me to actually write creatively in my own time but for some reason I just don’t, I’m not sure why. I wish I did write more though, I’m slowly working on it but computer time is difficult when I have uni and work and online stuff to manage.

It means I appreciate ‘away-from-computer’ time a lot more though and that’s nice.

I think I need the pressure of a deadline to make me actually write something, I could give myself one but it wouldn’t mean anything because that deadline would come and go and it wouldn’t matter. I always see YouTubers talking about their publishers giving them deadlines and I feel like that’s what I need but I’m not a big enough YouTuber to get a book deal, y’know?

Either way – what were you thoughts on todays writing? Something a bit different, but I really enjoyed it so I hope you did too – feedback would be much appreciated if you wanted to leave a comment!

Thank you for reading,

Sophie xx

He couldn’t get the words out of his mind. The first line his eyes had glossed over before he balled the parchment paper in his hand and tossed it towards the waste paper basket.

‘I’m sorry, I never meant for it to end this way.’

The words made his eyes sting and his vision blur but he couldn’t face it, he couldn’t accept it. Yet, every time he emptied the waste paper basket he left it on the floor, just next to the trash. Deep down, he knew there was no way he could throw it out without knowing what it said but he wasn’t ready.

Days past – a cold winter turned into a warm spring and a surprisingly hot summer had passed. He’d nearly forgotten about the letter. He’d been so busy with work and family and friends that the letter found itself kicked under a jacket that he’d dropped in front of his wardrobe. His sister had told him his flat was a tip and they were having an intense cleaning day with the occasional break to run to the coffee house on the corner to get hot chocolates and Christmas songs were ringing around the apartment.

He’d picked up the jacket and saw the same, scrunched up piece of paper on the floor.

He smiled, almost fondly – maybe forgetting the letter existed at all was his way of knowing he was ready.

He dropped the jacket back where it was on the floor and flattened out the A4 paper, wondering towards his bed and sitting heavily.

‘I’m sorry, I never meant for it to end this way.

I was careful. Perhaps too careful, that you never suspected, but clearly not careful enough if it ended this way. I’ve had this letter written for a long time, originally it was addressed to my parents but as soon as I met you I thought about rewriting this letter.

I suppose at this point you know – I’m a spy. I go undercover on a regular basis and I’m shot at nearly every day.

I don’t need to talk about that though, it’s irrelevant now – all I want to say is I’m sorry Charlie, I hope you’re safe and happy and I’m sorry I never told you about who I really was. I just want you to know I love you with all my heart – when I turn 35 I hope this letter has never been delivered and I can retire with you, I want that so much.

I hope it’s all okay. I hope you still spend Christmas with your family and put that dorky singing dog in a Santa hat on the mantle piece at Christmas.

I love you Charlie, even now. I love you.’

“Charlie, what’s wrong?” The only thing that tore him away from the letter was his sister’s panicked words as she stood in the doorway to his room. He looked up and smiled, realising tears had been streaming down his cheeks.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Genuinely.” He smiled, folding the letter neatly in half and placing it on his desk, pulling his sister into a tight hug and getting back to their tidying.

He’d been so angry that she’d lied to him for so long when she first passed, he didn’t know how to not be angry with her. But a year later he understood – she was protecting him and she still loved him, in the same way he still loved her.

Hello!

Seems like this post is in the wrong order – it’s not, I just didn’t want the story to be prefaced with ‘hi I’m going to do some creative writing!’ and interrupt the flow.

I used to write posts like this fairly regularly – it was good for me to do a little bit of creative writing and I really enjoy writing these little posts so I might do them more regularly this year! I got a book last year called ‘642 things to write about’ so I might post a few of them here.

Finding time to write is something I really struggle with so being able to write here occasionally feels really refreshing and enjoyable – I miss how I used to write all the time and work on stories and characters and plot lines.

I will get back to it, I’m working on getting back to it, it’s just picking my battles and my priorities but I am working on it – I am!

Also bonus Sunday post to make up for my being ill last Monday and missing a post. Regular posts again next week!

Thank you for reading, I have a lot of love for this blog and being able to write these little posts if I feel like it!

Sophie xx

sophie counts clouds

the world is not what you thought | creative writing

‘She wrote him a long letter, but he didn’t read it’