Greetings Moscovites, In order to overhaul this chapter I had to rewrite everything from scratch! So it is nice to see if you would leave a comment. I'm open to criticism even if it rips me a new bum-hole I'm always open to suggestions!
Ever had that feeling that you fucked up big time? Yeah. And when we all fuck up hard we can all generally trace it back, At one wrong decision or you just happened to be at the wrong place or time.
For the past 16 years of my life me and my Mother stayed at the Yellow Zone, The small settlement boomed into a fishing hub for wastelands. Prawns are their most famous export. The yellow zone is in the surface the rich get to live down in the metro tunnels but they too get the share of danger, That being bandits and your average troglodytes.
I wasn't well educated, I'm more self taught than I'd like to admit.
I was sitting on a stool and carefully stitching Pre-War Clothes (Clothes that were made before the Apocalypse and are of high quality), I liked my Job I enjoyed making clothes. Under the faint dim light of the lantern I carefully stitched the jacket.
"Danielle they are waiting!" My Mom yelled she was downstairs, She runs two jobs simultaneously one as a Ammo trader and Fabric Merchant.
My father Adrian Ivanov was a pretty well known waste lander, in fact many of our best costumers were once friends and associates of mom and dad.
When I finally ran the last thread through the fine piece of fabric I told my mom
"You can't rush art!"
"True!Don't keep them waiting"
I stood up from the chair and dusted off the jacket, I admired my work the stitching was invisible and superb!
I walk down the creaky wooden stairs of my house, Well we live in a squatter but still home nonetheless.
"It's done." I said and passed the jacket to my Mother.
"About time." She said and told the male costumer "Well, That will be 30 stamps."
"Why not 27 my friend?"
"Nope 30."
He sighed in defeat and payed it for 30. As the man waved his goodbye he turned to the left and I saw the patch in his arm, A yellow Scorpion ,yep it's the Renegades.
To me they are Lawful Neutral, They do OK things but they prevent people from speaking up against them and are notorious for conscripting allot of people and many of them never return, With my age and gender I'm juicy conscription material.
We live in a squatter but still growing up I had a normal childhood, Maximus and CJ left a long time ago.
"Danielle kindly go to the market and pick up some mushrooms, Today I will make your favorite...Stroganoff!" Mom said as she counted the Post-War Bullets in her box.
In case you didn't know, Stroganoff is fucking delicious and if you never tasted it then you are clearly missing out on the greatest things in life.
"Oh yeah!" I shout in joy and she handed me a sack of Stamps, Stamps are basically money in the wasteland but our stamps are of the renegade faction they have their symbol etched in the metal and it's hard to trade it in different territories.
"Also while you are at it,pick up some water alright?"
"Yeah yeah." I said and left the neighborhood. As I walk along the narrow streets I realize this place needs something and it's called better sanitation. It's absolutely filthy the walkways reek of shit and piss.
I checked the sack and the water ration tickets were present. Suddenly I stepped on something squishy, I looked at my old shoes and I stepped on a dead black cat, The carcass was buzzing with flies and it was dead for a few minutes, I didn't want to bury it since the creature was smelly. I kinda felt sorry for it, It must have died from thirst.
YOU ARE READING
MeltDown The Original Draft
ActionTHIS STORY WILL NOT BE UPDATED! Have you ever wondered how the original draft of my story looked like? Now is your opportunity. This book has been discontinued but I would love for you the reader to look and see how much has changed from the origina...
