Before I could ask another question, Nadine hushed us. From the edge of the woods, I could see a darkness pouring forth. Before I could blink, something happened. The grass we were sitting on rose above me. I was close to the dirt. I looked at my hands—but they weren’t hands anymore. They were limbs, insect limbs. I looked at what I hoped was Eli. He was a pretty good sized grasshopper. Nadine on the other side of me was also a grasshopper. I think I must have been too. I felt a sense of danger and a desire to jump away. Nadine—at least I think it was Nadine—jumped toward on me and held me down. communicating to my shrinking brain that I had to hold still or They would find us and crush us.
I heard or sensed immense vibrations and felt heat. The urge to jump away was getting stronger and stronger and I had no sense of what exactly I would be fleeing. I sensed also smoke, ashes, something thick and killing. The bug next to me tapped me in a way in which I understood to mean “jump” and I did.
When I did I saw fire! The bus was on fire.
I also saw those feral shadowy beings surrounding what was left of the bus. They seemed to be directing flames at the bus. In my panic, I jumped higher even. Another grasshopper jumped after me and brought me down, but I was screaming. At least I thought it was screaming. It came out of me, the bug me, unbidden.
I felt them before I saw them. The evil Unravellers. They had seen me jump and were directing their hostility toward me. In blind panic I followed the beings next to me. I hoped that they were Nadine and Eli. We hopped as low to the ground as we could, through the tall grass, upon the increasingly parched-feeling soil. I saw a hole in the ground and dove in, alongside my companions.
Deeper and deeper I jumped, skittered underground. My antennae guided me. At first the walls were very close to me. Then there was more space and I slowed down. It’s much more difficult to feel your way if you’re small in a big place, than if you’re big in a small place.anyway. There were two insects near me. At least two. One of them stopped. Then the other did. Then I did.
One came over to me, touched antennae to mine. and before I knew it, I was back to human form.
As you can tell, it's very rough. It's the prehistory of a first draft even. I've written all my life, but have had only one "official" creative writing class. That was in college, a zillion years ago, with the poet Joan Larkin, and it was a great class. She was very encouraging.
Some of my story takes place in a library! :-)