I think The Last Class is one of the best stories that I've written in a while. However, I was finding myself experiencing a great deal of writer's block because I couldn't really get behind the direction the story was going in. So I had to go back to the beginning to figure out what was wrong.
It's usually a good idea to do at least two edits before you send your work out....but I'm going to restart this story from the very beginning and alter it as I go along. Please give me your feedback. I hope to develop my reluctant hero in a way that makes sense and grabs the reader's attention in spite of his perverted behavior. I want to develop an antihero that is capable of defeating a very real enemy in a way that makes you say Hell Yeah.
Can we get behind a hero like this? I think so.... but we will find out shortly.
The Last Class
REWRITE Part 1
The slick mud squished uncomfortably under my naked bottom as I perched precariously on the cliff just above the raging waterfall.
Using a small tree branch as my lifeline, I leaned forward half suspending myself in mid air 40 feet above the rocks below where the sultry dance was already in progress.

Source: Pixabay.com
They twisted and purred, stepping lithely around scattered bone piles, here a skull, there a femur. From this distance the buxom beauties might have been twins. Curly red locks hung loosely below firmly rounded buttocks; long bangs tucked tightly behind perfect ears. Their bare skin glowed an unearthly yellow. It was a reflection of the Moonlight against the surface of the water, and then against their porcelain white skin. I was certain I could make out the pinkness of erect nipples.
They seemed over eager to squeeze a breast, lick a neck, caress a thigh.... touching each other like animals in heat long due to satiate their desire.
I hovered insecurely, shaking with lust and fear as I watched their tantalizing dance behind the curtain of rushing water.
These killers would pay for what they did.
My name is Zachery Jones. I'm an 18 year old high school dropout. We all dropped out. The whole world dropped, you see... right out of existence.
Eirstwhile Academy was a rundown joke of a school. Now that the Basic Income system was in place, there was no real need for these centers of learning, aside from acclimating your kids to social environments. I certainly wasn't adverse to learning about some of the sweet things I shared homeroom with.... but I had no interest in book knowledge.
My favorite thing about this school? The girl's uniform. A tiny white button down shirt that hooked into a green and blue plaid ruffled mini skirt. The style was to cut the skirt as short as possible. The placement of the desks on either side of the room made a pervert's dream come true.
The truth is that no one cared about education here. We played games, watched movies, stared at boobs, and basically chatted away about nothing. Even the teachers weren't into it. They let us run around and do whatever we wanted.
It was Friday, April 22nd 2022 when everything changed.
It was recess and our class was outside playing in the giant lead pipes behind the decrepit granite lunch building. We were warned not to fool around back there. Lead poisoning or something. I was chasing little blonde Georgette back and forth between the second and third access tube. Every now and then she would pull her puffy checked skirt up just a bit as she crawled in front of me showing off her white Garfield panties. She'd laugh haughtily and I'd smile with a glint in my eye. What a fun game. I wanted to touch Garfield's lasagna with my stubby white fingers.
None of us knew about the asteroid. How could we? A little bump, that was all. Like a tiny earthquake that doesn't even knock your latest book off it's unsturdy shelf. Africa disappearing into the ocean. It wasn't the Collision that killed the world though, it was the EMP field. You see, the human brain requires a certain amount of electricity to work. We fell, as a race, like puppets with our brains removed. All except Class E42 from that idiotic Eirstwhile Academy.
Those kids were dumb enough to play in the lead pipes. On Friday April 22nd, 2022 as they danced, chased each other, stared up each other's skirts, and spent a sunny afternoon basking in each other's company they had no idea that they were the last people left.
The Last Class.
I feel that this is a dramatic improvement over the original here: https://steemit.com/fiction/@jeezzle/the-last-class-part-1