Oakleys-Personal Narrative

The alleys were eerie in the late November nights, barely lit by a single streetlight that only seemed to light up a single 6ft space. Now, there were no street lights at all, and barely anything to call an alleyway. Buildings were burnt, whole sides taken out, and the buildings gutted, leaving nothing but rusted metal and scrap pieces of paper. Boots pattered along the abandoned sidewalk with stern purpose. From their shoes to their heads they were covered with clothing, keeping the harsh winds from blowing handfuls of dust into their eyes. The shortest man was distinguished from his partner by his blue Oakleys, which perched themselves upon the bridge of his nose. "Keep going, no time for stopping. We will be reaching the people soon." He muttered, almost as if he wasn't talking to his partner, but himself. …show more content…
stood in front of the two, constructed of scrap metal, car parts, and millions of different kinds of material to keep it standing. The taller man raised his arm up, flashing the gate with a hand sign. Almost as he lowered his arm, the doors of the gate creaked open, squealing rusted metal making a harsh ring through the stiff air. The men walked in, and instantly the doors shut behind him. Stepping out of the shadows of brick buildings came loads upon people, bearing weapons of all sorts, fear and anger burning deep within their eyes. The short man turned to the tall one, lowering his Oakleys and flashed him a look of confusion. "What is going on, Bone?" Bone did not respond, but instead kept his face hidden neatly behind the cloth, his dirty glasses not even moving from his own eyes. "No need for a leader!" The crowd screeched, looking straight at the short man, then Bone. "NO need for a leader! NO need for a