I am definitely not pleased with this chapter, but seeing as my inner editor has to go out of the window for NaNoWriMo, none of this has been looked over.
Please leave a comment/review, and let me know what can be improved in December :)------------------------------------------
Chapter 4:
Everything was blue. White swirls began to form, and they slowly moved across their background of light blue. A yellow ball of light burnt, and it blinded. It all went briefly black, before returning to the scene before. The scene moved to it's left, and there was green, and a calming grey and yellow granules. The green was tall, and it was held up by brown. The yellow looked rough to touch, just as the grey was. The grey was what he was on. Yes, it was rough and uncomfortable to be on. Everything went black again, blocking out the image before it returned again. Everything was silent, and everything was filled with colour.
Chuck groaned, holding his eyes shut briefly and rolling his head back onto the back of his head, and opening his eyes again, only to be blinded by the Sun. He used his right hand to block it and he moved his head again, and he noticed the almost clear skies and what a rich blue the sky was. It was never this bright where he lived. Was he in the afterlife? He decided that the answer to this was a 'no', because there was no such thing as an afterlife. He opened his eyes widely, looking over the beach and the woods a few hundred metres up from it. The beach was in front of him, and he was laying on a large rock formation that extended high about him. The trees in the woods were densely packed, the hardly any light was reaching the forest floor. He tried to move his legs, and they obeyed him after a few tries. His feet moved under him, and he struggled to stay upright on the uneven ground of the formation. His legs were shaky, and he remembered what had happened. Was this the other side of the world? If so, it was much different to his side of the world. His side was dull, grey and boring to look at, whereas this side was colourful, bright, interesting to look at. He couldn't help but spend what seemed to be forever just admiring it. He hadn't seen a beach like this one, nor rock formations that were so rugged; the ones on his side were smooth from the erosion caused by the crashing waves. The sea here was gentle, rhythmically moving up and down the beach.
Chuck knew that he couldn't stay here forever, but still wanted to investigate. He looked around him at the rock formation, and tried to formulate a plan in his head of the easiest way to get over it and onto the beach, where he could see a worn down path branching off of it and running next to the woods. Could it be possible that people lived here too? What if other people had found the other side and decided to stay, or could it be that they hadn't found a way back to the right side, where his home was, where Polly and his children would be waiting for him.
He had to find a way home.
He regained control of his legs, and started to cross over the rock formation, looking down the dips and gaps to see just a black abyss below. He took a deep breath before moving onto the next rock, his breathing stopping and holding until he had both feet on the rock. He was more than halfway to the beach now, and his confidence was growing. But confidence overtakes timidness, and carefully navigating himself across the rocks had worked. He was now boldly moving across from rock to rock, until his breath caught as he came crashing down, his body slamming against the rock as he cried out in pain. He placed his palms on the surface of the rock and pushed his body up, pain shooting around his body. He winced as he hauled himself up and stood back up, noticing how close he was to falling into the formation. He carefully began going across the rocks again, but this time he gingerly placed each foot, checking to see if the surface was slippery or not.
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The Fisherman's Tale (On Hiatus)
FantasyEnkora can only be freed by the chosen one, the one who has been prophecised. Chuck Armstrong is an out-of-work fisherman who will do anything to try and make ends meet, even if it means sailing out to the unknown. It was just a matter of time befor...