Currently Untitled

This is a piece of my newest endeavor. I haven't got a name for it yet and I usually like to wait a little while so that I can get it just right. Here it is:


The sound of it was almost annoying. The tip-tap was unceasingly present. Jonas grimaced at the leaking pipe and pulled his hood tighter around his ears. He didn’t see how anyone could waste water so valuable with the drought being so persistent. Turning eastward to look out over the sandy hills, he muttered angrily to himself. How dare his sister leave him in charge of her hooligans! He could hear them crashing about in the small apartment as his brother chased them, trying to quiet them. Smiling unpleasantly, he debated going inside and setting them all outside to bake in the hot sun. Staring, once again, at the hills in the distance, he shifted in the hot sand. It was taking his sister longer to get back than he’d expected. She’d been gone twelve days, just enough time for her children to drive him out of the apartment. Sighing, he turned and ducked back into the crammed living quarters. The family shared the building with seven other families, one of which also lived in the apartment with them. The extra family belonged to his next-to-the oldest sister, Merry. The apartment had a small kitchen, a main room and three bedrooms, one of which was just a closet. Seven children in torn clothes, dirty faces, and black-as-tar feet moved like wriggling worms in and out of the rooms. He wasn't worried about them stealing food from the kitchen, there wasn’t any to steal. Twelve days ago (he made a note to get mad at her), two of his sisters and his oldest brother left their small village to Dinko, a trading city, to get supplies. As of the day before, they had officially run out of food, and had very little water left. He hoped they would be back by nightfall, and shuddered to think of the results if they didn't.

You are really descriptive and smooth.
I'm interested to see where the story goes and how the characters turn out.

Thanks, I'll try posting whenever I update the story.

hay dats cool da way you rght
nice job

This is the next piece:

Jeremy, his only other and older brother, sat cross-legged on the floor holding his sister’s youngest child. Shay, the oldest of his siblings and sisters, had four children, while Merry had only three. While the fat, gurgling child kept his brother distracted, Jonas grabbed a wad of paper by the door and slunk away before he could be spotted.

The next morning was hot, tiring, hunger-laced and snappish. His sister had arrived a little after midnight, claiming she had been stopped at the gate on the way out of Dinko. Jonas sat smoldering in a corner of their tiny apartment, watching the younger children toss a ball. She had also made him stay behind from the unloading to watch the little ones. Not his favorite job. He contemplated sneaking out and leaving the little crumb snatchers by themselves but then thought better of the idea after realizing that they’d probably tattle on him. Grinding his teeth together to keep outright yelling he bit out, “Nat, if you don’t quit it right this instant I’m going to go find a rope!” The little girl the threat was directed toward grinned and punched her brother for the sixth time. The boy wailed and screamed and pounded his little fists into Jonas’s thighs. Wincing, Jonas grabbed the boy’s hands and placed them gently onto his own knees. He then proceeded to get up and look for a very thick rope. Nat, Shay’s second daughter, grinned wider and began poking her older sister. The older girl glared at her and smacked her across the back of the head. She had a look of giddy dizziness upon her face and was rubbing the back of her skull. Jonas smirked, guessing what had happened. He scooped up one of the blond gurgling masses from the floor and carried it into the kitchen for a snack. The other children followed without even having to be asked.

It didn’t help either when his siblings returned cheerful and teasing. Aril, his oldest brother, insisted he stay indoors, knowing he wanted to escape. Finally, Merry rescued him and kicked him out with a lump of bread and cheese. Sighing in freed bliss, he slipped and slid up and down the sandy hills until he was a nice distance from the village. Settling comfortably under a slightly wobbly hill for shade, he pulled out his lump of paper-drawings. Jonas grinned; he had a lot to show for his eleven years. In the softball sized lump were tons of drawings, some of them so tiny you could barely see them. He sat hunched over his drawings for hours, nibbling the bread and cheese in between. It escaped him how his siblings loved their lives. All of them told him that he should be happy because they had meal everyday, clothes on their backs and a roof over their heads. Jonas was not happy. He felt that there was something missing. And so he drew the things he thought he was missing out on. It was a wide range of things, from the ocean (or how he imagined it would look like) to snow. He didn’t share his drawings with anybody, not even his best and only friend Demi Kippler. He and Demi were the only 11 year olds in the village. The rest of the young people were late teenagers or children 8 and under. Truthfully, he was lonely. He just couldn’t bring himself to admit it. He didn’t want to admit that he’d probably grow up, get married, get old and die in his desert village, with no other friend except his faithful Demi.