Because this prompt is -so- focused, I am going to go ahead and write following the prompt rather than try to fit in something else. While I have a lot of ideas for third-person omniscient, the idea of taking someone else's idea and writing something from scratch intrigues me. What images are important to me? Why are they important? What sets this scene, and where do I want it to end?
The Road Less Traveled
Shivers crawled down her spine as she stared at the wreckage of mangled metal and plastic on the road before them. They'd been driving down the back roads of the Appalachian for most of the day--their navigation system shot, and this the first sign of anyone else for miles.
A bad omen, she thought as Dan pulled over onto the right-hand shoulder--what little there was of it. They were surrounded on all sides by tall trees and the occasional rocky outcropping that reminded Sarah of the color of tabby cats when the sun slanted down and cut through the leaf shadows to land along their hard planes.
Dan looked over at her, his features troubled. He knew that this wasn't the safest plan, but he didn't see that they had another choice. It was the right thing to do--stopping when you saw an accident--and one that looked as though it might well have just happened.
"You all right to do this?" he asked, his green, soulful eyes caught upon her own--more worried for her own fears than his.
"We can't just pass them by. It wouldn't be right," she replied before offering him a wry half-smile. "If we were trapped in that car, we'd want someone to stop, too."
"Yeah, but what if there's no one in there?" Dan asked before sighing and turning to throw open his car door.
Then we're just jumping at shadows, Sarah thought before moving to open her own car door.
The air around them was still--the kind of still that came before a storm. But it felt unnatural to Dan--as though someone has plucked all the birdsong from the air, or like a bad movie dub that had forgotten to add in those little ambient sounds. Like Blair Witch Project, he thought as he made his way toward the wreck.
Still, the air smelled clean--no gasoline or rubber like there should have been if the accident had been recent. As they drew nearer, however, they could hear the sounds of people inside the nearly crushed vehicle, crying out for help.Two voices, maybe three, Sarah thought as they paused glancing at one another. Dan hurried over toward the car while Sarah called out, "It's all right. I don't know if you can hear me, but we're going to try and get you out!"
But the voices just kept crying out from within that metal wreck, and after Dan had made a once-around of the car, he looked back at Sarah, shaking his head.
"I don't even know how they're still alive," he said. "They must have crawled down near the floorboards, but..." He shook his head again, a sense of unease forcing him to shift his shoulders slightly, as though he could somehow shake the feeling off with movement.
"We'll have to call for help, then," Sarah replied, glancing up and down the street once more.
There wasn't a seeming soul save for the wind that drifted through the trees and those cries for help coming from within the metal coffin that had once been a car.
"Thought of that," Dan replied, holding up his cell to show her. "No service."
For a moment, Sarah stood frozen in place, her gaze drifting from Dan's cell phone back to the wreck.
"We can't just leave them," she said softly, the back of her throat feeling like it wanted to swallow itself as she said the words.
"There's nothing we can do for them, Sarah."
Dan was watching her, knowing that the decision to leave behind something wounded was never an option for his wife. Five years they'd been married, and Sarah's kindness and desire to help others had cost them more than this trip ever would. He didn't resent it, though; he just wished she would think about their own happiness sometimes--their own needs. Gently, he reached out a hand to catch at her arm to pull her away, and thankfully she let him.
It was getting late, in spite of the early hour--the trees and the cliffs bringing about an early twilight as the sun crept toward the west. "We'll get to a town or something, Sarah, and we'll send help. All right?"
Her whole being ached with the need to do something more, but she found herself nodding at his words. After all, what more could they do?
"Let me just see if I can get them to hear me. All right?" She turned her head to look back at him, and as her blue eyes caught on his own, he found himself giving her a wry little smile of his own and nodding.
"Sure," he said, before watching her head back over toward those seemingly endless cries for help.
He watched her for a moment as she knelt down, placing a hand to one of the few unscarred bits of metal on the car, speaking to those panicked voices within.
He'd only looked away a moment, his eyes catching a shadow in the skies overhead--an eagle or a hawk, maybe, but when he looked back around, both she and the wreck had vanished.
----------
So here are some of my own criticisms now that I'm done. One: how did the car get crushed? Did trees fall on it? And why aren't my characters wondering how it got crushed, too? They assume it's an accident, but after looking at pictures of crushed cars, and cars that had gotten into accidents, it makes sense that there had to have been some catalyst. Unfortunately we don't really explore that. Two: After looking at several pictures of accidents of crushed cars, most of them appeared to be due to inclement weather--which we don't at all see portrayed in this story. Granted, there are some things that make this story unusual all ready, but weather details from the past day or so might have made this accident more believable--and something I probably should have added in.
In either case, ...I hope you enjoyed day three in spite of what I failed to include.
No comments:
Post a Comment