The Wildlands Journal Entries

The Wildlands Journal Entries

Status: In Progress

Genre: Young Adult



Status: In Progress

Genre: Young Adult



It is the year 5027. Nearly 200 years earlier, a plague ravaged the planet, bringing destruction in it's wake. Only a small population of all humans survived, and, since then, the Earth has mostly reverted to a natural stage. Those who endured the disease thrive as one with the planet, their past known only to a few. But when a group of teens find hints to what the rest of the world is like, their lives may change forever.
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It is the year 5027. Nearly 200 years earlier, a plague ravaged the planet, bringing destruction in it's wake. Only a small population of all humans survived, and, since then, the Earth has mostly reverted to a natural stage. Those who endured the disease thrive as one with the planet, their past known only to a few. But when a group of teens find hints to what the rest of the world is like, their lives may change forever.

Chapter1 (v.1) - Raven

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 05, 2017

Reads: 150

A A A | A A A

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: March 05, 2017



Dear Journal,

It was the smoke that woke me.

Smoke, filling my lungs, burning my eyes, clouding my mind with worry. The faint glow of a blinding light seeped through the intertwined branches that lined my roof. I stumbled, coughing, to the entrance, to be greeted by a sight I had expected, though that made it no less horrifying.

Fire blazed through the camp, hungry flames lapping up the sides of the wooden buildings. Families huddled together as they left their ravaged homes, some donning scars that would mark them forever. Screams ripped through the night  air. My village…

Rough hands grabbed my shoulders, and I spun to stare into my father’s dark eyes, filled with worry and fear. I had stood, as if petrified, as the blaze drew nearer to our hut.

“We need to leave.”

I nodded, tearing my gaze away from the burning scene. My mother was standing in the back of our main room, tears welling up in her pale blue eyes. She pulled me into a tight hug, her wet eyelashes brushing against my skin. “Raven… you have to get your things. And… please be careful.” She has always been overprotective, longing to see that I was happy, and I struggled to smile at her despite my urge to cry. I had never imagined we would lose our home like this.

After only a few moments, my brother Zander and I had gathered our belongings, and the rooms were bare other than the furniture my father had carved, furniture that would burn in the flames like everything else in our camp.

Zander’s usually grinning face was solemn, and his spiky hair was coated in dust. He draped his arm over my shoulders in an attempt to comfort me as we left our old home. I am grateful he was there; at 18 years of age, two years older than me, I have always looked up to him.

Our tribe gathered in a glade not far from the remains of our camp to inform us that we could not simply rebuild, as the fire had destroyed the surrounding forest as well, and we had to journey east to rebuild.The chief had chosen a good place for us to start a new camp, and though I knew the relocation was necessary, I still wept as I prepared to leave the place I had grown up in.

After I had quickly changed into my normal attire, a black hooded cloak concealing a leather crop top and miniskirt, along with black boots, I joined my family where they were beginning to eat breakfast. We conversed quietly about the loss of our home and what the day would bring us to.

By the end of the meal, there were only a few lone wild berries and nuts left in the wooden bowl we were able to rescue from the flames. We had eaten as much as we could, knowing well that, despite not having much more food left in our supply, we would need plenty of energy in order to make the long journey. We would be able to gather more food as soon as we arrived.

I sat down to talk to some of the girls in my tribe before we left, Fadel greeting me with a small smile as I sat down. She has always been my closest friend, informing me of all that happened in the tribe. She is also 16, with short golden hair and pale emerald eyes. Many boys in the camp regard her as being beautiful, but she already has a boyfriend. Though she is physically weak, her strong will and positive outlook make up for the small flaw.

I, on the other hand, have deathly pale skin and eyes the color of the night sky. My dark hair reaches my thighs, and I normally wear it in a long braid. My friends consider me slightly violent, and… I think I have a problem. One that hasn't really been seen or felt before. Sometimes negative surges of energy flow through me, and I have a sudden urge to… well, I'm not going to write about that now.

Faded and I talked quietly of what our new home would be like. We had been living in a clearing surrounded by woodland and bordered by a thin river. I had loved it, despite its few flaws.

Despite that fact, however, I still agreed with Fadel that it did not have enough shade, and that we could hope for a bigger water source.

I looked to where Fadel’s parents stood facing away from one another, and immediately felt sympathy for my best friend. Her father had been abusive to both her and her mother, and they had managed to get away after seven years of mistreatment. She doesn't deserve a broken family.

I was shaken out of darkening thoughts when my mother’s shouts broke through the abyss. I realized that we were leaving, and stood up, murmuring goodbye to Fadel before strolling over to my mother. My father was with her, and he smiled at me, his deep green eyes shining with joy as he proposed that we left to begin our journey. My brother picked up heavy tools along with his belongings that he would bring.

My mother carried a basket of berries, nuts, and roots along with a cask of seeds from plants that we had grown to love. My parents sell food to make a living, and though it seems obvious, I am still surprised when I notice that some people do not have to hunt to survive. They have other occupations necessary for our tribe’s survival, like Fadel’s family, who produce clothing, or my friend Oak’s family, who are known for their medical care and knowledge.

We began walking, and after a few hours, my back began to ache, weighed down by the objects in the bags I carried. I was transporting the belongings of both my mother and me, and the things in the sack were so heavy that I was afraid my back would be rendered useless by the time we reached our destination. I did not complain, however; I knew I did not carry the heaviest load. My father, despite his strength, was breathing heavily. He was forced to hold all the weapons and meat we had gathered, along with the bag of his belongings that seemed ready to burst. Out of sympathy, I offered to carry something, but he just shook his head, knowing from my staggered breathing that I was having trouble as well.

We stopped for a break after what seemed like hours of endless hiking to eat, and I gratefully threw down my load, my stomach grumbling at the very thought of food. It was only a short pause, but enough of one for me to regain my strength.

We traveled a little longer before stopping in the place we would soon call home, where I grinned, relishing the fact that it was all I had hoped for and more. My stomach felt as if little butterflies were flitting about in it from excitement.

It was a clearing bordered by forest like our old camp, but this area had trees scattered throughout the open area, providing shade for us future inhabitants. A stream bubbled past the north side, leading to a shimmering canyon of crystal water with a sandy beach bordering it’s edges, where small waves caressed the land.

We were some of the last to arrive there, and the spots in the clearing were all taken by families already beginning to build their new homes. My hopes faltered, thinking we would not be given a good space where our crops would thrive, but then I spotted a place.

Just outside the sandy area that bordered one part of the lake was a small glade, a flowering tree standing alone in the middle of it. It had just enough space for a medium-sized hut and a little farm, and we could clear some of the trees away to encompass the animals we were hoping to gather. Other tribes had large and bulky animals, almost like the horses I had seen in the wild, but with horns protruding from their chiseled faces and little to no hair. Although they seemed useless and lazy, it was said that the liquid that was taken from them was even better than that which came from snowberries, and was good for baking.

They also had black-skinned, hoofed animals whose white fur looked like a cloud, and felt like one too. If Fadel’s and my family worked together, we could gain a lot from making clothes from that material.

I shook myself out of the hopeful daze to alert my family about the lot. They gladly accepted to take the space, grinning about how perfect it was. My parents started building the hut immediately, cutting down trees to start.

They sent me to collect berries and roots. The fruits there were mostly the same as the ones in our old home; I knew what the majority of them were. I bumped into Fadel on the way, who knew a couple more edible berries then I did, and told me about them.

By the time I was finished scavenging , the sky was growing dark and my hands and hair were covered in grime. When I walked back to my family’s new hut, it was halfway done, with no roof, but I could still hear my father’s rumbling snoring as I neared the shelter. Deciding, despite my exhaustion, to stay up a little longer, I wandered down to the lakeside and undressed, climbing into the cool water and washing myself off. Bushes surrounded the area I was in so that I had privacy.

When I clambered out of the water and redressed, I noticed a flickering amber light by our new home. Mother had started a fire, and I ran up to it, eager to greet it’s light and heat despite the warmth of the night. Chills were still running down my spine from the cold water I had bathed in, and the flames brought spirit to my bones again.

I became entranced in the dancing blaze of light. The colors were beautiful, like the sun rising in early dawn, shining it’s golden light on crystal water. I stayed like that for a while, just sitting there, while the fire reflected in my eyes. Then an idea came to me; I would write about this day, and every other in here, in my journal. I hadn’t written in a while, as my mother used the first few pages as fire starters before I stopped her from ripping out the rest of empty space waiting to be scribed.

Now I am in my hut, on my bed, finishing writing my day, about to set down my feather pen for the night and rest after such an exhausting journey. I will write in here tomorrow, if I can, and am looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.





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