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Description
Some book title ideas have been floating around my head lately, and this is one of them, with the title of The Earth Left. I may make it into a 30k-50k word novel soon if I get around to it. If I do, the genre will be post-apocalyptic and/or dystopia.

Stock image:

Girl: [link]

Stock By:

I have gotten around to writing a first-draft Prologue to this story. I remind you, this is a first-draft and is poorly written, so don't expect much!

Imagine yourself in your own house. It was the dead of night, and the eerie sound of sirens rang your ears. But they've been going off for a week now. So, you ask yourself, why would tonight be any different? But there was a lurch in your stomach. Even though your own life rode on the hope that tonight would be like every other night, you knew that might not be the case. Other than your stomach tumbling and twisting, you felt an odd feeling. Like you are expecting tonight to be different. And you were right.

Imagine yourself crawling up to the window and reaching out your own hand to claw at the blinds. You gazed outside, since the droning sounds of the sirens had stopped. You breathed heavily as you looked into the sky. But it couldn't happen, you tell yourself, not tonight. There in the clouds as you stared you saw raindrops starting to fall towards you. A shower of rain started to plummet down to the earth. But, as your heart had stopped and you started to tremble inside your little window, you had finally noticed that it wasn't rain at all. What was descending down to earth was a shower, a multitude, of a thousand missiles. Of course, you couldn't really tell if it were a thousand. To you it looked more like the number of stars in the sky, all shining. And those stars, as you hoped to believe, were getting brighter and brighter.

Imagine at that moment, when time seemed to stand still, you closed your eyes. You knew this was coming. Everyone was telling you. But why didn't you listen? It was the talk of the town. The talk of the world, really. People said this was inevitable. People said to take shelter, to board up your homes or go underground. You thought they were silly. You thought everything would turn out fine, like it always had. Even when global panic started, and when the only thing on TV was a warning to get to shelter, and when the sirens had started to warn, even then you still didn't listen. Why didn't you listen? Everyone was now in underground shelters and makeshift retreats to stay safe. But, now, where were you? You didn't listen, so you were in your own house at your little window, staring into the sky.

It was all going to come down on you now. But you realize that during all this time when the people had prepared, and volunteers had helped, and as everyone was now stuffed underground to be protected by this disaster, they would not survive. You looked into the cracked sky, at all the little shining “stars” falling down, and you knew that no one could escape this. Not even if they were in their shelters and retreats, thought to be safe as it were under the earth. But that wouldn't help them. And you knew, as you were most likely the only one who hadn't took shelter and the only one now staring at the sky. One by one they fell like a blanket, and were coming closer to you. Even with the chaos exploding so close next to you, you hadn't heard a thing. Or maybe was it all just too loud to hear? It was the end of the world, after all. And maybe the sound of the end was just the sound of silence. That had scared you the most. You shut your eyes and took a breath.

Now imagine all of this happening to nineteen year old Alexandria Pitch.

Description
Some book title ideas have been floating around my head lately, and this is one of them, with the title of The Earth Left. I may make it into a 30k-50k word novel soon if I get around to it. If I do, the genre will be post-apocalyptic and/or dystopia.

Stock image:

Girl: [link]

Stock By:

I have gotten around to writing a first-draft Prologue to this story. I remind you, this is a first-draft and is poorly written, so don't expect much!

Imagine yourself in your own house. It was the dead of night, and the eerie sound of sirens rang your ears. But they've been going off for a week now. So, you ask yourself, why would tonight be any different? But there was a lurch in your stomach. Even though your own life rode on the hope that tonight would be like every other night, you knew that might not be the case. Other than your stomach tumbling and twisting, you felt an odd feeling. Like you are expecting tonight to be different. And you were right.

Imagine yourself crawling up to the window and reaching out your own hand to claw at the blinds. You gazed outside, since the droning sounds of the sirens had stopped. You breathed heavily as you looked into the sky. But it couldn't happen, you tell yourself, not tonight. There in the clouds as you stared you saw raindrops starting to fall towards you. A shower of rain started to plummet down to the earth. But, as your heart had stopped and you started to tremble inside your little window, you had finally noticed that it wasn't rain at all. What was descending down to earth was a shower, a multitude, of a thousand missiles. Of course, you couldn't really tell if it were a thousand. To you it looked more like the number of stars in the sky, all shining. And those stars, as you hoped to believe, were getting brighter and brighter.

Imagine at that moment, when time seemed to stand still, you closed your eyes. You knew this was coming. Everyone was telling you. But why didn't you listen? It was the talk of the town. The talk of the world, really. People said this was inevitable. People said to take shelter, to board up your homes or go underground. You thought they were silly. You thought everything would turn out fine, like it always had. Even when global panic started, and when the only thing on TV was a warning to get to shelter, and when the sirens had started to warn, even then you still didn't listen. Why didn't you listen? Everyone was now in underground shelters and makeshift retreats to stay safe. But, now, where were you? You didn't listen, so you were in your own house at your little window, staring into the sky.

It was all going to come down on you now. But you realize that during all this time when the people had prepared, and volunteers had helped, and as everyone was now stuffed underground to be protected by this disaster, they would not survive. You looked into the cracked sky, at all the little shining “stars” falling down, and you knew that no one could escape this. Not even if they were in their shelters and retreats, thought to be safe as it were under the earth. But that wouldn't help them. And you knew, as you were most likely the only one who hadn't took shelter and the only one now staring at the sky. One by one they fell like a blanket, and were coming closer to you. Even with the chaos exploding so close next to you, you hadn't heard a thing. Or maybe was it all just too loud to hear? It was the end of the world, after all. And maybe the sound of the end was just the sound of silence. That had scared you the most. You shut your eyes and took a breath.

Now imagine all of this happening to nineteen year old Alexandria Pitch.