Just a quick essay for English class. It's kind of monologue-y so there aren't really paragraphs. Sorry!
It’s been five years since the War, as near as I can tell. The seasons don’t change like they used to anymore. I was sixteen when the War started, so I guess I’m twenty-one now, not that it matters much. Drinking is a bad idea nowadays anyway, just like anything else that makes you less in control of yourself. Some of the older groups haven’t figured that out yet though, so we always keep a few cases on hand for bartering. But I’m getting off topic. This is supposed to be the start of my clan’s written history, to try to make sure we lose as little knowledge as possible. My name is Skye. It’s not the one I was born with, but after the old me died in the War, I decide it was time to choose a new name. I choose it because of one girl I met near the beginning stages of the After-War. She had picked up the ability to see things normal people can’t. She told me my aura was the color of the sky on a crisp autumn afternoon. Maybe I should explain about the abilities. After all, who knows? Someone might be reading a copy of this long after all the ruins stop glowing and going for a walk doesn’t require scouts and a rear guard. After the War, which lasted about three minutes, most things living on planet Earth weren’t. The few that were left quickly discovered that the radiation had affected us in, well, different ways. Mostly it was younger people and animals that changed. The adults mostly died. As near as we can figure, our bodies were already changing, the radiation just made us change differently. A lot of us died too, at least before we discovered the Junkyard. I found the Junkyard first, and I originally set up camp there because it looked dangerous. After the War, conventional notions of safety got flipped on their heads. The soft meadows full of frolicking bunnies would probably eat you. The Junkyard, on the other hand, was full of rusty metal and sharp edges. The truly unique thing about the Junkyard, though, is what comes from it. I don’t know if it was a blessing, a curse or just some piece of wild magic, but anything that was here before the War is nearly unbreakable. That’s why my armor is still in good shape five years later. It’s where I found my shield, too. That first night, I had lost the piece of a table I had been using as a shield to a pack of dogs. I was looking around for a replacement when I saw the hubcap. It was hanging off of a corner of an old washing machine, the same one we now use to grow our lettuce. I spent my first night here in that washer. When I got up in the morning, I decided I would stay. Other kids started showing up about a month later. I was made leader, at first, just because I knew where most of the pointy metal pieces hid. Even after we cleaned all the dangerous bits up, though, they still deferred to me, especially once they learned about how the War had changed me. Someone had kidnapped one of the younglings, and I lost it. I don’t remember anything after that until I was standing above his beheaded body with his head in my hands. The whole thing terrified me, but everyone else was even more terrified. They called me “sir” for a week, once they started speaking to me again, that is. Even animals would turn and run, once they caught my scent. They even named the clan after me. Even though I still scare the snot out of every one here, life here in the ‘yard is much better now than it used to be. We have crops now, and some chickens (the toothless kind) in a hutch. We have a reliable source of water, and most of the predators in the area we flee from us on sight. We have a trading arrangement set up with some nearby settlements, and we even have a chore schedule that everyone doesn’t totally hate. But, even better than all of that, we have made a home here, and will fight to the death and beyond to protect it.