Sketchavember #2

Alright. I want most of this challenge to be art related and not so much writing. But I decided to break out of my rather solid cocoon and do a segment from part of my writing. I picked an easy one, focused more on settings and feelings-- mostly to get my bearings and break back into writing because I can face the music and I know I'm quite dreadful at it. But I've got a lot to write about in the realm of my original writing, so why the hell not.

I realize its not quite a full chapter, which the challenge suggests. But I wanted to catch up and still have day #3 to get started on. And who knows-- maybe I'll have time to work on this further! Wither way it was definitely a great exercise. I learned that from spending three solid hours in the wee hours of the night trying to come up with just these few paragraphs and then come morning realize what shite I'd condemned the internet to while I caught up on z's.

Managed to spend twenty minutes or so making some editions on it today to make it less nauseating to read. I've got my weak points, but hopefully its alright.

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“We should get out of the rain-- come on. I kno’ a place.”

Escaping the rain before being soaked to the bone wasn’t a likely scenario for the two unlikely partners. As if the unforgiving weather and the smelly, ramshackled condition of the streets weren’t bad enough-- they needed to seek refuge from both the rain and the group of shady apprehenders they’d just outrun.

Eliel kept her hood tight over her long, braided hair as she and Mic sprinted through the rain to find shelter. Mic led them down a quiet little alley and up a couple flights of rusty old steps to the side door of an old, abandoned building, finally stepping out of the rain. They made their way down a dark hall; it looked as if no one had lived there in years. Old, chipped paint falling off the walls and not a sound but that of the rain outside. Surprisingly not as dirty as it could have been-- some broken glass and some minor garbage littered the cold, musty halls.

“Here we are.” Mic pulled out a key that presumably belonged to the door he’d stopped them at.

This was odd. He’d never mentioned this place before. Eliel furrowed her brow, “I thought you said you didn’t have a home?” she asked, curious about the place he’d brought them to.

“I don’t.” he smiled as he unlocked the door and entered the dusky old room.

Confused by his wording, she followed him in and looked over the place. It wasn’t a large space, nor was it very tidy-- more cluttered than anything, “so then, what is this place?” she pondered further.

“Well, it was home. Once upon a time.” he muttered, removing his soaked leather jacket and tossing it carelessly on the floor.

Eliel took off her now drenched, new hooded coat and followed Mic’s lead as it landed on the floor. While Mic tended to providing them with some heat, Eliel began to wander the room and look around. Among the majority of rather useless looking junk, there some were old stuffed animals, bunches of clothes on the floor and draped over what little furniture was in the room, a few well used candles, and a couple of old mattresses and blankets near the only window in the room.

There was also a vanity with a dirty, broken, old mirror with a single framed photo resting on its edge. Eliel picked it up and dusted off the frame. Mic was in the photo, along with a younger looking girl.

“Who’s this?”

Mic looked over to see Eliel holding the photo and warm smile came across his face, “that’s my little sister.”

Eliel’s eyes lit up. Siblings were always fascinating to her as she never had any of her own. Why hadn’t Mic mentioned her before? The girl in the photo looked younger than him certainly; a little sister just as he said. “Does she live here?”

Mic’s gaze fell and his smile grew somber.