Travelling Stories I first started writing these stories for fun and to make my mates laugh around 5 years ago, while i was working on a power station in pembroke, south wales. I wrote stories of moustached superheroes, and villains, based on the people I work with. Recently, ive moved onto another power station, in manchester, nearly 5 hours away, and people are walking up to me, telling me they have just read the old stories, and to keep writing them, I found out this morning that the site manager on pembroke actually kept copies of them! The space of time that has passed, and the distance between the two power stations has made me realise the magic of storytelling, and has drawn me back to writing again, so ive found myself coming back to opuss, and in the mood to write again. Also, thanks to everyone for all the kind comments in the past, you beautiful people! Write soon Tom.

Fading Forcing my eyes open, they were filled with the glare of a helicopter searchlight. A numb feeling crept through my body as I began to slip in and out of consciousness. The droplets of rain soaking my clothes was surprisingly comforting, and I mustered a tiny crack of a smile as I lay in the jagged canyon. Minutes, possibly hours before I had been working my way across the rock face above me. What were the chances that the rope would snap? Drifting back awake again, I saw the helicopter crew approaching, and a sharp pain as a needle was pushed inside my pulsing vein. As the medical workers desperately worked on my failing body, I managed to look down. I immediately regretted it. A pool of blood gathered around my lower half. Choking back tears, I pleaded for the men to help me. Take away the pain. The cave around me started to fade away. Darkness engulfed my mind and my body. Could this be the end of my chapter?

Breaking. My cheeks burn. The salt of my tears has made them chapped and sore. I don't care though, I just need to see my father. Find out why he did what everyone said. The last time I heard his voice, he was screaming that It wasn't him while guards dragged him to the cells. Now this is the last time I would see him. I sat in the small room waiting. Two rows of chairs sat there, all pointing towards the glass window like some kind of morbid aquarium. The electric chair lay behind, menacingly sat there. Patiently waiting for its next victim. The silence of the room was suddenly broken by a distant shouting. A few voices screaming, bars rattling. A cold shiver ran up my spine as I heard them. The door behind the window creaked open, a few guards walked in, followed by the handcuffed mess of a man that was my father. Once full of vigour and #life, now he looked a shadow of his former self. Deep bags hung under his eyes, sitting just above his sunken cheekbones. His once too small prison clothes now hung off him like skin slowly being peeled from bone. The guards sat him in the grim throne. A lump gathered in my throat, like a tennis ball, choking me. He looked over to the window. He looked so calm, yet his insides must be eating away at him knowing that it was finally the end. I tried my best to muster a smile back to him, but as much as I forced the corners of my mouth upwards, the state of my face from tears was giving away my true feelings. The curtain fell, and knowing that I no longer had to be strong for him, I burst into tears as the lights around us surged, glowing bright for a few seconds. It was over.

A Question Hi everyone. I just wondered for future stories, if you would prefer to read short snappy stories, or would you put the time in to read a longer, more developed story? Thanks everyone, keep up the great work

Broken. As the tears rolled down my cheeks, I sat there in a barely broken silence. The remnants of a half eaten pizza lay in the corner of the small dark room, and the only sounds were faint shouting from elsewhere in the building, barely heard over my loud sobbing. The one dim light in the cage flickered, as I sank into the corner helpless and lost. I had screamed until my voice had broken, cried until my cheeks burnt, but nobody would listen, it was just an accident... I didn't mean to. A door creaked open, and the sound of several footsteps approached. This was it. The end. Keys rattled against the door, and it slowly creaked open, letting in a thin beam of light, burning my tender bloodshot eyes. I stood up, and slowly turned towards the metal door. Placing handcuffs around my wrists, my tormentors led me down a long hallway. The building was suddenly awash with sound. Screaming prisoners jeering and banging, kicking their own cell doors. They hadn't yet been able to accept what was happening, that it was the end for them too, be it hours, days or weeks away. We reached the end of the corridor, where there stood a small wooden door. It creaked open, but I barely looked, knowing that behind it, lay my final seat. My legs buckled beneath me as I stumbled down onto the splintered wooden seat. I looked to my left to see a smeared window, a few pale faces behind, faces soaked in tears too. The scarlet curtain drew across, and I felt the cold damp sponge being pressed against the top of my head. My nails dug into the arms of the chair, making my fingers glow a deathly white. The cold dull metal helmet, was pushed down onto my shaven head, the room slowly cleared. I closed my eyes, and saw the people they thought I'd killed. I hadn't. Not on purpose. I couldn't. I loved them.