Hey guys, I need help not failing a class

[Cameron]

Well, I'm not failing. I'm just doing not so amazing.

So, uh, after going through The Martian Chronicles, our teacher told us to write up a continuation chapter, set in any part of the novel. Mine's set after the end of the world, like two years after the world goes to hell.

So yeah. I need help editing it. Any advice you could give would be amazing.


December 10, 2028: All That Shit What Done Happen in the Fue-tuer (Title Pending)

The dirt was harder than he expected it to be. Adam Omnes found himself grunting slightly as he drove his shovel into the soil, heaving with admittedly dwindling weight down upon the handle. The tip of the shovel sank only half a foot into the ground. He pulled upward again almost mechanically and thrust downward again, harder this time, with little better results.

The harsh, bread bowl landscape of Nebraska hadn’t changed much, even after the atom bombs had driven the world to hell. It always averaged a dry, desolate wind, day by day, and the scenery always looked like it had been violated by humanity’s nuclear devices. There never were many people there in the first place, either. In fact, Adam Omnes hardly remembered he was one of the few people left on earth most days. It was only on nights like tonight, standing over the grave of one of his fellow survivors, that he truly came to appreciate his position. His loneliness.

Drenched in a boiling sweat, he eventually broke surface and began to shovel out a pit for the crudely constructed box behind him. It was another two hours before he made his way back to the farmhouse, his shirt bundled under his arm, his skin almost blackened from the sun, his hands bleeding from the twisted nails jutting from the coffin. A short, thin man with wilting red hair was waiting for him inside, sprawled out on a couch, flicking through channel after channel of blaring static on the television.

“There’s nothing on, Adam.” He stated flatly, his eyes flicking up to his companion only briefly.

Adam stared at him for a moment, then sighed and slumped down next to him. “There’s never anything on, Bill.”

Bill shook his head idly, and muttered, “There should be something on. I saw some John Woo a few days ago. It was nice.” Adam nodded slowly, his eyes moving momentarily to the screeching television. He forced himself to look away. For a while the room was silent with nothing but the hissing cacophony to entertain the two, and then Bill asked casually, "Who was it this time?"

"I think her name was Catherine. She was the one living in the attic."

"Oh." The word held no indication of recognition. "So then…how many are left? Besides us?"

"Besides us?"

"Excluding us two, yes."

Adam found himself again staring hopelessly at Bill, wondering just how far into denial he had been driven. "There are no others, Bill. We're the last ones out here."

There was no immediate response. Then, "I don't believe that. We can't all be gone." Bill's eyes still hadn't left the white and black scrawls on the television screen.

"I didn't say that."

"But it's what you meant."

Adam turned away and stared drearily out the window, his chin resting on his knuckles. He thought for a while, then replied, "Yeah. Maybe I did."

Bill didn't reply. The only sound in the room was the empty hiss of the listless static on the television. Adam waited a while, and then made his way up to his room. It was a good few hours before the static finally cut out, and then the house was dark, and silent.


Adam wasn’t sure what Bill had done before the world fell apart, but he was sure that he was involved in the Martian colonization. He would find him staring up into space most nights, alone on the sun-bleached roof of the barn, his hand idly twisting the weather vane this way and that. His eyes were deep and indignant, the usual empty blue replaced by a sorrowful, longing black. Those same eyes cried the day the last rockets left, like a child left behind by his parents. Adam knew that Bill’s place wasn’t on this earth, but out in the milky black of space, and it hurt him to be left stranded on this dead earth.

And so every morning, when Adam awoke to find the house silent and the barn empty, a voice in the back of his skull whispered to him,"That’s it, he’s gone up into the black. You’re all that’s left now.” But he could never bring himself to believe the voice. Bill always came back anyways, later in the day, with an armful of food pillaged from the local town, and a tired smile on his face. And then, everything was better, because he knew that he wasn’t alone in his determination to survive.

Some days, however, Adam would wake up and begin to scavenge the farm for Bill, only to find him face down in bed. He wouldn’t budge from the bed for days when this sudden crippling depression settled in, he would just lie there, not saying anything, not conscience of the world around spinning around him. The next day he’d be on his feet again, smiling as he would any other day, but Adam couldn’t shake the sight of him in that bed, either dead or wishing he was.

Then one day, Bill crawled out of his bed, and made his way into the basement of the barn, where it’s previous owner kept all of his most precious possessions. He found a cabinet that he and Adam had locked long ago, and pried it apart to find what the two of them had put away so many years ago. Tucking it behind his belt, he made his way outside, and called for Adam. He had come to a revelation.



"I've figured it out, Adam"

The two of them stood side by side, overlooking the brim of a yawning chasm, where a great river once surged. There was nothing there now.

"Figured it out?" Adam asked, uninterested. Bill's empty contemplation had been growing more and more restless lately, and more and more of it was becoming hysterical raving.

"Yeah, I'm finally understanding. Why everyone died."

Adam looked up from the chasm, his eyes wide with shock. "What did you say?"

"I get why the war happened, Adam, I get why everyone started throwing atom bombs around, why the world went to hell so fast." Bill looked up at Adam, his eyes alert and amazed. It wasn’t a look of fear that he had, and that’s what scared Adam the most. It was the look of a boy who had just discovered the most wonderful truth in the world.

“So…why, then? What…what happened?” Adam asked nervously.

Bill smiled his weak smile. “It was nothing we did. Man had no real part in what it did to everything.”

Adam stared at him blankly, yet again at a loss for words. Bill glanced at him expectantly, then looked the other way.

“It’s global sociocide. Global, autonomous, mechanical, natural sociocide.”

“Sociocide?”

“Killing off society as a whole.”

“Oh. I’ve never heard of that before.”

“I just made it up. No one’s ever had any reason to use it before.”

John stared at him weakly. “Just what are you talking about, Bill?”

Bill smiled, a slow creeping grin that seemed to crack his face. “I’m saying, we didn’t kill ourselves off. The earth killed us off. It wanted us dead.” He gazed over the barren desert that stretched onward into space. “We had a chance. Lord, we had a chance to get out of here. People are on Mars, Adam. People are living in space. I know they are. We’re the only ones stuck on earth.”

“Bill…” Joe pleaded, slowly catching onto what his friend was hinting towards.

“Humans are done here. We’re all that’s left. If we get off here, I’m thinking the world’ll be happy. It wants us gone. What if it’s just waiting for the people to clear off so it can patch itself over? Like a scab forcing out germs before it gets better. The faster we get off, the faster everything'll get better."

Adam bit his lip, starting, "But people aren't a blight, Bill. We're…we're…" He couldn't finish the sentence, though. He had no idea what people truly were to the world.

"You told me we were all that was left, Adam. You told me and I didn't believe you. But now, now I understand! We're the only people left on earth, and we’re the only people who’ll ever be on earth again.” His voice was picking up in pace, his excitement was mounting. "And I think as long as we're here, nothing will ever get better."

Adam felt helpless, standing in the wake of Bill's epiphany. What could he say? What could he do? Bill's logic made no sense, but at the same time the way he relayed it made it sound absolute, unquestionable. He really did believe that things would be better if everyone was gone. And for the first time, Adam began to fear for his own life.

"What…what do you think we should do?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

"You can do whatever you want. I'm not going to push you into anything. But I'm going up there, the only way I can think of. Past the stars."

With his dull smile still plastered onto sun blistered face, Bill drew the gun he had taken from the basement from his belt, cocking it and placing the barrel against his head. “I’ve got two bullets in here, Adam. One for me, one for you. I’m sure that what I’m doing is right, whatever you want to do, you go ahead and do it. But my time here’s done.”

Adam didn’t say anything for a while. He just stared blankly at his friend, unsure of what to do next. After a long time, he smiled weakly and outstretched his left hand. “It was a good thing we had going, for a while. Me, you, Jack, Sam, everyone else, we had some fun.”

Bill took his hand and shook it slowly and proudly, the gun still propped to his head. “I never really had fun, Adam. I just stuck around to make sure you guys didn’t end up killing yourselves.”

“Funny how that worked out, huh?”

Laughing softly, Bill stared into Adam’s eyes. It was another long pause before he added slowly. “Well, I guess this is goodbye, then.”

“It was good knowing you, Bill.”

“Same to you.”

Bill didn’t wait for Adam to respond this time. He forced his smile a little wider, then pulled the trigger. He fell down silently, a puff of dirt drifting into the sky as he hit the ground. His crazed smile was still there, but the pain in his eyes was gone. He looked happier in death than Adam had ever seen him in life.

A storm brewed in the distance, the first Adam had seen in nearly a year. It was a primordial, bestial storm, a cry of victory from the heart of the world. The first rains began just as Adam found the energy to pull himself away from the blood splatter and fetch the shovel from the farmhouse.

Adam spent the next three hours digging his grave in the downpour. The rest of the night he spent curled up in front of the blaring static of the TV, sobbing. He didn’t care anymore that there was nothing on the screen, all that mattered was that there was nothing left in the world. In the early hours of the morning, a John Woo movie flickered onto screen for a few minutes, and Adam found himself reaching for the gun tucked behind his back, into his belt. He placed the pistol in his mouth, and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

The hammer smashed downward, but it didn’t find a bullet to strike. Adam stared blankly ahead, tears streaming down his eyes, unsure of what to do next. “Bill…you didn’t want to help the world, did you? You just wanted to get out.” He whispered to no one at all. And no one answered him. After all, he was the last human being left on the planet earth.

By daylight, there were no tears left. Adam Omnes’ eyes were as dry as the Nevada landscape, as dry as the dead earth.

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CnC plz. Also, help me cut out the excess stuff. I need to trim this down a few pages by Tuesday.

~Dorian Gray

[snowdog]

Very nicely done. =3

I love this... you inform the audience well, by showing them the situation rather than just telling about it. The feelings are convincing, and the description creates a vivid image in the mind's eye.

Though, in terms of criticism... I can't really help there. It's not overly long, or terse; nor is it difficult to read. The only thing I could suggest - to shorten things - is to use one adjective, rather than a few. This shouldn't affect the imagery too much.

Good job. <3

[Cameron]

I managed to cut it down like 20 words or so by stripping it down a bit =D

But, uh, I also found out today that my teacher's fine with the length, so that's not really an issue anymore. Thanks for the suggestion, though.

To everyone else there too lazy to comment, thanks a lot. You guys are a whole lot of help >_>

~Dorian Gray