This is something I wrote back at the start of the school year in about fourty minutes (start of year 9, I was thirteen) but I think it is probably worth reading. I wrote this without planning it. I just sat down with a pen and wrote it. I havent changed it at all.


Rain pounded down on him like shards of ice fron the sky as he hurried down the deserted alley. Foul smells shifted in steamy clouds lingering like an evil intent. He brought his long coat even tighter around him as lighting split the sky of grey. He hurried down into darker depths of the subdued city, his sole intent was to get there, he needed to be there before it was too late. He was aware of them, hanging on the edges of the filthiest bins and the shattered windows. They couldn't touch him, yet. He still had time. Minutes to spare he broke into a run, boots crunching the rubbish strewn path as he took another turn through the never ending maze. Sweating and shaking he was terrified, he was so close. Seconds ticking away in time to the never ending of thunder behind him. He saw it. Three bolts of thunder crashed through the sky and hit the Thames. They seemed to linger there for a moment and everything seemed to stop. And then the spell was broken. He ran and ran further and further. So close. The sky was dead silent because there would be no rolling thunder, as it had left the sky, and was after him. There is no escape when they come, nobody can hde, all they can hope for is "the one" to come.
"Get up you lazy lump!" Mrs Skinner shouted rattling Brian.
"I wont miss school, so get of your high horse," Brian replied sleepily,
"Why you cheeky son of a..." Mrs Skinner exclaimed,
"Son of you?" Brian cut in, smirking as his mum left the room in a huff. Yawning as he dragged himself out of bed.
Brian was fourteen, he had dark hair hich he kept short. He was a slim build and he had a strange birthmark on his back. People would look at it and say it looks like thunder. Brian found this ridiculous, "Dont you mean lightning? You cant see thunder." but people would always shake their head and say it was definatly thunder.
The sky was grey, the sky was always grey in London, but relatively speaking the weather was good that day. Brian walked to school, he always did, swearing loudly at the person who liked to knock a kid or two over on his way to work. His school was a typical city school, a concrete slab with a few holes for people and light to get in. Brian sighed as he me the mundane school with mundane people.
"Class, we have a new student today, his name is Ryan and he has just moved from Central America." Mr Dawson droned on. Brian couldn't care less, and neither could Ryan from the look of him.
The day droned on as usual, when it came to P.E Brian was as bored as a genius in remedial English. They didn't have a field to play football on, it was yet another slab of concrete. As they were changing, Brian's best friend exclaimed,
"Hey Brian, isn't your birthmark the same as Ryan's?" Brian looked up, he finally saw what people ment by thunder. He'd seen pictures of his birthmark but it was something you had to see in real life. Ryan looked pleased, as though he'd found something.
"Hey Brian, can I have a word after school." Ryan asked, but the was no sign of it being a question.
"Guess so." Brian muttered. He would of been confused but he was to bored to care.