Writing Challenge: Survival!



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Many great works like The Lord of the Flies, Island of the Blue Dolphins, and Hatchet were created to show the readers the sense of survival. People go insane on their owns, think of clever ideas to find necessities, and even end up escaping or being rescued! There are chapters on END about what they are doing, how their hunting for food, and even where they all with not ONE word spoken from their mouths! That uses a great sense of descriptive words!

Your job is to:



It does not have to be a specific length, just as long as you fully describe what you're doing. Maybe you're cooking raw fish? Maybe you're scaling a high cliff? It is all up to you. But, you can not say ONE WORD.

Don't think! Just post! :D​

The sun was blinding the way it reflected off the pure white expanse of snow. She could feel her eyes burning, tears leaking from the corners and freezing on her eyelashes and cheeks. Her skin was dry and blistered from the howling wind, her lips chapped and cracked. This was not a forgiving land, and she felt the full force of it's fury now. Her boots, encased in snow and ice, dragged heavily through the thick powder drifts. As if the snow was trying to hold her back, trip her. Her muscles burned from fighting it, while a disturbing numb feeling climbed through her body from her fingers and toes.

The wind gusted strongly, blowing between her clothes and digging cold fingers into her flesh. She shivered uncontrollably, dropping to her knees. She was going to die here, she knew. She could feel it in the growing numbness and the sense of exhaustion that was creeping up on her. Closing her eyes against the burning sun, the backs of her eyelids burned red. Each breath, a puff of white in the air, whisked away before she could catch the next. Cracking open her eyes again, she stared out over the brilliant white expanse. There was a certain peacefulness here, she thought. A sense of calm. That sense stole into her heart, driving out all fear.

Slowly, she took off each glove and laid it down in the snow. Fingers white in the cold, she reached up and removed her hat next, letting that fall to the ground as well as the wind whipped her hair in a frenzy. Fumbling with the Velcro at the throat of her jacket, she ripped it away to grab her zipper. She was barely able to keep a hold of the tiny metal tab as she lost the last of the feeling in those digits. For a moment, the wind stung her like knives as she was deprived of the shelter of her warm parka. Then, all was numb and all was quiet. She watched abstractly as her breath blew away silently on the wind. Yes, she could admit defeat to this great power, so much greater than herself. For it would always be here, always be bitter, and it would always win.

Now, though, she felt a sense almost of welcoming. She embraced this feeling, drawing it close as she surrendered. A smile touched her lips as she closed her eyes once more. She would join this great, vast place. With a last sigh, she lay her head down to sleep, and dreamed a dream that would never end.

Not sure this is exactly what you were looking for, but I thought I may as well give it a shot.​
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Small plumes of smoke waft gently skyward, carried beyond the reach of even the trees themselves. The smoke served as a beneficial side effect, originating from a small well constructed fire pit. A patch of flat earth devoid of vegetation had been chosen, vastly reducing the risk of spreading the fire. Rocks had been collected and neatly arranged in a circle several layers high. Dried branches and dead leaves were fueling this flame, cracking and crisping in the heat until they would eventually crumpled to ash.

A man sat four feet away from the pit, mud caked his boots and legs of the navy blue denim jeans he wore. His brown eyes were weary and bloodshot, clearly exhausted from the work he had put into creating and starting this fire. Beads of sweat were slowly rolling down his brow, offering little comfort to the tired man. His face and neck were covered in the short bristles of hair, he had not been able to shave in days. His hair was wild, unkempt and windswept. His hands were dirty, covered in small cuts and bruises and had little strength left in them. Rock climbing had never been his thing and for the first time he realized what a useful talent it was.

A rumble raged from his gut and he sighed, heaving his shoulders. He had been unsuccessful at his attempt to catch any fish earlier that morning and now he was too tired to get up and leave the soothing heat of the fire. Still, he knew he would have to try again before he ran out of precious firewood. The longer he went without food the less energy he would have to keep his signal and only lifeline going. He could only hope he was found before it was too late.
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Markus brought his knees together and wrapped his arms around them in an attempt to find some warmth. However, his soaking wet clothes and the wind did all it could to deter his efforts. Not to mention the dead, half-eaten carcass of his friend, Captain Studs, caused him to shiver more with the icy atmosphere. The small boat drifted aimlessly in the vast open sea, blissfully unaware of where it would go. All around them, the horizon showed nothing but water, no land in sight. The clouds above only promised another shower of freezing needles pelting Markus. It would certainly be a long night

Timidly pushing the pile of ravaged meat that used to be Studs, he rummaged through the soaked pack he had brought with him. It was filled with a few protein bars, their packaging sparing them from the water. A small knife was present. A few bullets but no gun. A shredded tend, and a book, the pages dripping with seawater. Markus decided to eat half of a protein bar, savoring its tasteless nutty goodness in his mouth. He wrapped it in its wrapper before tucking it in the safety of his pocket. The rocking of the boat caused the Studs corpse to lay a mangled arm on one of Markus's shoes. Gingerly, he pushed it away and watched it flop partially into the water. A large chunk of it broke off and began to float off into the water.

Markus decided to see what kind of book he had salvaged from the pack. Some words were smeared but most of it was still legible. It was simply a record off all of the sailings the boat had done. Very useless. Slightly frustrated, Markus put the book back into the pack. While zipping it closed, he froze at the sound of something splashing in the water close to his small boat. Frantically. Markus turned his body around as slowly and quietly as he could to the source of the sound; it was about 10 feet away from him. The portion of meat from Studs was being ripped to shreds by a group of...well, judging by the fins breaking the water's surface and the frenzied teeth, they were sharks. They madly fought over the piece of food like a pack of starved wild animals. Once all there was to eat had been eaten, their ominous fins began to make their way towards the side of the boat. Where Studs's arm was still trailing in the water. Markus hastily pulled it back into the boat, ignoring his squeamish internal protests. He watched in horror as another chunk broke off and was quickly devoured by one of the beasts.

As the sharks began to make their way towards his boat in hopes of more, Markus considered using his hands to paddle furiously away from them. But he knew that anything he did would be useless. These were the killers of the sea and he, a feeble human, was no match for them. He could see himself, shredded to bits until he ended up with a fate similar to Studs's.

I'm going to die.
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James began to set up camp. It had been three hours since he had gotten lost on Kanalu Island, just off the coast of Harland. He wasn't looking to die and he wasn't going to. He was determined to survive this. It was strange to him how he could keep his cool, when he was alone on this island with almost no chance of surviving. Perhaps, he could get mauled by a stray animal.

Even so, that wasn't going to stop him! He ran over to his crashed boat and searched for any supplies he could find. He made sure to check every part of the boat. In his search, he found a med kit, two casings of food and a a large box of water. James rejoiced and carried the supplies back to the spot by his tree on the far left. The cases where heavy, but he fought to bring them out of the slowly sinking boat, placing each on the sandy beach.

After he placed the final case beside the others, he began building a tree tent. He searched for large leaves and large sticks, then began making a tent shape with them, placing one end of the sticks in the ground and the other ends leaning against one another. He then took out some string from the med kit and tied the ends together. Afterwards, he placed the stem of the leaves he found into the ground and tied the edges of them together around the sticks.

After 30 minutes, he finally finished setting up his tent and stepped back. He was amazed that he was able to pull it off. The work had tired him out. James stretched and yawned then crawled into the tent and slowly dozed off to sleep.
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