What do you think of this story?
It’s the second part to my story so don’t worry if you don’t understand it. I just want to know if it makes sense, and whether it’s good or not. It’s for my English class- the teacher’s told us to write an ending to Ray Bradbury’s story, the Pedestrian, soin other words, this is my ending for Ray Bradbury’s story.
The car moved down the empty river-bed streets and off away, leaving the empty streets with the empty sidewalks, and no sound and no motion all the rest of the chill November night.
What seemed like hours later, the police car rolled to a stop. The back door popped open with a sigh and a bright beam of flashlight shone onto the side of Leonard Mead’s face. He flinched at the sudden illumination and squinted, trying to make a face behind the light.
“Get out.”
It was the same cold, metallic voice except this one held a slightly softer tone to it- it was as if the speaker was almost sympathetic.
Leonard shielded his eyes from the light and helped himself out of the car. He was glad to finally escape the dreadful antiseptic in that little barred cell. He breathed in the fresh night air and sighed, the piercing air striking the insides of his lungs once more.
Suddenly the light flickered off and a pair of hard, steel hands clenched themselves around his arms.
“Hey, easy there!”
“Silent,” the robot commanded; the sympathy in his voice had disappeared long ago.
Leonard closed his mouth and allowed himself to be led up the concrete pathway, the giant building looming before them. Leonard looked up at the few windows with their curtains drawn; he could see there wasn’t much light within, but there was the unmistakable tinge of blue television light through the slits in the draperies.
“Is this – ”
“Silent,” the robot repeated, its voice magnified in the dead silence of the night.
As they neared the building, the crystal-clear glass doors opened and the robot pushed Leonard inside.
The air-conditioning was extremely cold. Goose bumps began to appear on Leonard’s lanky arms and his hair stood on end like soldiers ready for battle.
“Sit.”
The officer pointed to an armchair in the corner of the room and Leonard did as he was told. For a while the officer watched him with steady eyes before moving off to the counter and speaking with the nurse.
This room, too, contained nothing soft and light- everything was hard, including the potted plant by the counter. The room smelled of the same harsh antiseptic as the one in the police car’s cell. Leonard wondered whether all the Government institutions used the same brand.
Leonard examined the room with its too-bright white walls and too-shiny wooden floorboards. There were no pictures on the walls, no health brochures, no radio- nothing except the air-conditioner and the viewing screen that was the size of a truck container. The TV was currently switched to Channel 6, and airing one of Leonard’s most disliked shows: The Champion Force. Leonard tried to distract himself but couldn’t help gazing into the screen and watch as one of the Champion Force officers raided an underground artists’ society. It was almost hypnotizing the way the officer’s mouth moved when he spoke.
Leonard shook his head and turned his head, frowning. “Do you think you can change the channel?” he asked the nurse.
The nurse, who’d been about to leave the room, turned sharply in his direction and glared at him. Leonard stopped frowning and the nurse moved off.
The officer remained standing at the counter, his arms by his side and his back straight. He gazed at Leonard unblinkingly. His stare seemed almost penetrating.
Leonard turned to face the TV again but closed his eyes this time.
A moment later, the nurse’s quick, running footsteps returned and Leonard opened his eyes. He turned again and watched as the nurse strode up to the officer and whisper something in his ear. The officer’s eyes slid in Leonard’s direction and he nodded curtly. For a second, Leonard thought he saw a hint of a smile playing at the edges of the officer’s lips, but it turned, instead, into a frown.
The nurse hurried off again and returned a while later, a needle in her hands. Leonard stiffened.
The officer sidled up to him and placed a hard, steel hand upon his head.
“Stay still.”
The nurse inched closer, the needle spurting a few drops of clear blue substance.
“This won’t hurt at all…”
***
Lights flickered on in the cottages and houses and dogs began to bark in intermittent squads. Pale faces appeared at windows, their heads turning right and left, gazing up and down the street, startled by that horrifying scream somewhere near where the Psychiatric Centre for Research on Regressive Tendencies was.
p.s. I didn’t write the first sentence in this story- my teacher just told us to use that sentence as our opening line, like a continuation of Ray Bradbury’s story.
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Wow. Great writing. Its really interesting! Keep up the good work. :)
I haven’t read the Ray Bradbury story, but I am impressed with what you’ve done. It feels a lot like Bradbury, which is perfect for your purposes. Nice job!
You have absolutely nailed it, very, very well done.
Wow this is so nice did you make up thiss story i love the way you discribe things like The car moved down the empty river-bed streets and off away, leaving the empty streets with the empty sidewalks, and no sound and no motion all the rest of the chill November night.I think this is a good story
Oh ya is the story complete?
I don’t know what year on school you are in but you definitely have talent. I like the descriptive way you write. The reader forms a picture from your words.
There is a certain mystery that makes the reader want to turn the page, again and again.
Congratulations. This piece is awesome.