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this is part of a story i started writing like early last year.. this is really just intro and what happens at the start leads to what the story is mainly about.. found it again a few weeks ago and dont know about it- i know it needs a lot of editing already, but let me know what you think?
thanks


My name is Tracks. I am a sixteen year old boy. I was born on February the 1^st. 2 years ago, my life was changed by the 2030 attacks, which turned London into the place it now is. I was fourteen at the time.

It was a sunny day. Summer holidays. I was skating down London Bridge, down by the River Thames, can of coke in one hand and a roll-up in the other, and I was happy. I’d never needed a lot to make me happy, I was pleased by simple things. It wasn’t like I sensed something in the air, I didn’t ‘have a feeling.’ There was no warning. No sense that something catastrophic was in the air. Just a sudden explosion, and the sky went black.

It echoed through the city, the ground roared, and people screamed. I turned around to see The Houses of Parliament crumbling down. Crumbling as I imagined the tired faces of the expenses swindling MPs crumbled. I stopped my skateboard and sat on the edge of London Bridge, watching this disaster escalate around and in front of me. People were running around like ants escaping the clumsy foot of a infant , collapsing on the floor, dropping their briefcases scattering papers, financial documents, numbers, money everywhere, shouting as they tried to get through to people on their mobile phones. Moments later, another boom. The London Eye rolled into the river, like a broken Ferris wheel, causing the river to turn into a stormy sea, waves crashing over the bridges. People stuck inside the glass pods banged against the glass, panic across the faces as they sunk into the dirty river. The surrounding area was flooded. It was already chaos, and it was clear this was just the beginning. I ran. I already knew things were too late and I could already tell what events would unfold on that awful day. All I cared about was trying to survive.

London’s landmarks fell one by one, like dominoes. And when they had finished with the iconic landmarks- The statue of nelson, Big Ben, The Gherkin, The London Eye, The Houses of Parliament, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge- they started with everything else. Train stations, shopping centres, busy streets, department stores, schools, hospitals. Explosions went off, like it was nothing, like party poppers. Strange objects seemed to fill the sky…an akin to planes and helicopters…but different.. Lights flashed, high pitched noises squealed…

As I ran through alleys, and pathways, doing whatever I could to get away from the busy streets, I could feel the terror around me. Debri crashing on the streets and on my head, bright red buses smashing into one another, cars crashing, people fighting. Panic. It was everywhere. I ran down subways, I needed to get back home. I needed to see my mum. I already knew my dad was long gone- he was A city man, dry-cleaned expensive suits, nice cologne, clean-cut image, whisky breath. He went when the Gherkins glass shattered. I can see him now, He was probably one who jumped, rather die quick than wait for someone else to save him. I knew that. I would not lie to myself.

I ran down the subway, only to be blocked by angry policemen, neon yellow jackets, Underground is CLOSED!” they roared, pushing me away. They were taking precautions. Or maybe it was already too late- t was, as I later found out. I ried calling my mum, but I couldn’t get through. As I looked around, I could see other people trying to do the same and failing. I was on Tottenham Court Road and I needed to get to Shepards Bush. This would take all night but at that time, I wasn’t sure if I would make it by then.

It was a long day and night, and I will never forget the sights that I saw. I swear to god, the sky was red with blood. I could hardly breathe the air was so heavy with smoke. I could hear moans and screams and sobs as I walked around, and I swear, I heard a baby crying in among the blackened fire that blazed inside Paddington station. Helicopters whirred above, pouring gallons of water on the burning buildings that lit up the sky. I saw ambulances, police cars and fire trucks, stuck in among the abandoned and wrecked cars- some of them must have been filled with bombs. And I saw the firemen, police and paramedics trying to enter buildings, trying to help people, but it was too no avail. The few that could enter the buildings, never came out, and there was no use trying to help people that were already dead.

As I came further out of Central London, the…mess and carnage became less, but it was still there. There was nothing but dead bodies on the streets, that, or they were either empty. People heard the news and locked themselves inside. AS I walked down Ladbroke Grove, I saw a Hammersmith and City line train, stuck on the bridge, blown apart, except for one carriage. I had to check. I had to see if there was at least one person I could save from this nightmare we were all in. I had been selfish all day, just looking out for myself- which is perhaps the reason I had come so far- but now I felt an urge. I broke through the closed station doors, jumped over the barriers- and act I was familiar with, and went up the stairs. The platform was destroyed. There was blood everywhere, so thick I could smell it. A smell of burning flesh rippled through the air, a smell of boiled blood, so vile it made me gag. I turned my head, only to see a head with no face or body attached, and was immediately sick. I wiped the spit away from my mouth with the black bandana in my pocket. I walked along the track, towards the wrecked carriage, stepping over blown apart train-chairs, hand rails and body parts. Carnage. I pushed through the rubble, trying to avoid corpses or the scattered debri of people. I heard a soft wail, like a baby bird who had given up on flying, defeated but with a glimmer of hope. I stepped into one of what was left of a carriage, to find a young boy and girl, surprisingly, still alive. Just. The girl had a strange beauty about her, despite the tragic state she was in, blood, dirt, tears, make up smudged across her face in some sort of sludge. She had long blonde hair, which the boy next to her held as he tried to comfort her, his face just as bad as hers. The girl was trapped underneath a large piece of metal, clearly too heavy for the boy to pick up by himself. I moved towards them, ‘ Come on then.’ I said to the boy, and the both of them looked at me in shock, startled and confused.

So yeah, thats it so far..i do actually have plans for whats going to happen, but really i see it as more of a film than a book- though that would be a hell of a large budget film but its cool!