Hey Pandas, If You're A Writer, Post The First Line Or Paragraph Of Your WIPs (Closed)

the first paragraph of my novel-in-progress:

There’s barely anyone in the classroom, but my mother has always insisted on my education, so I stay. The space is big—a remnant of a time when people had more—but it has long since been cleared of life. Watery morning light filters through the grimy windows, casting deep shadows in the roughly hewn bricks. On a better day, when the clouds are sparser, it might have filled the room with gold. Today it barely has the strength to illuminate the three other students. I wonder if their mothers have insisted upon their education too—if they have mothers at all. Many don’t, not after starvation took some, depression took more, and the sickness that comes every winter took the last of the weakest left.

IF u decide to steal this, I will cry bc it took ages to think of this pls dont.

Other than that I would love feedback on this I have no idea what im doing

This is one that I was originally going to use on my current work, but I rejected in favour of something else.

Perfect days are rare. You can live your whole life, and only experience one perfect day. Today would have been that day, had it not been for the message he had just received. Now, as he sits outside, feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, he wished it was still yesterday, before the rain stopped, before the clouds cleared, before the words he had read repeated themselves in his mind.

'Lou,
I'm back! I've missed you tremendously.
I'm settling back into the old cottage today. Would be great if my best friend would visit and catch me up on everything I've missed. Why don't you come along in the early afternoon? We'll have tea (and spill some, eh?).
Love, G'

His best friend has finally come home, and it was now the worse day of his life.

Stormflight stood near the entrance of the twoleg den that lay in ruins. A mouse scurried across the tattered wooden flooring. Stormflight’s full attention was focused on the mouse. The little grey creature was happily nibbling on seeds that were scattered everywhere. Stormflight quickly got into a hunter's position. As Stormflight stealthily closed the distance between himself and his prey, a sudden gust of wind swept through the derelict chamber, betraying his presence to the vigilant mouse. With a swift turn of its head, the mouse darted away, prompting him to give chase, bounding over fallen beams and dodging jagged stones. Stormflight pursued the mouse with determination. Yet, as victory seemed within reach, an unseen obstacle loomed in his path, leading to a painful collision. The mouse graciously swerved around the stone and kept running. In response to head ramming the stone, he yowled with agony. “Mousedung, that hurts!” he paused for a moment before continuing. “I could have caught that mouse if it wasn’t for this stone! Guess I wasn’t lucky enough this time.” Exhausted and bruised, Stormflight reluctantly accepted defeat, retreating to his makeshift den as the sun dipped below the horizon. Prey had been scarce on the fringes of the clan's territory, leaving him with little to sustain himself. As darkness descended, Stormflight rested in another place of twoleg nest remnants. As Stormflight lifted his gaze towards the darkness above him with white specks that covered the sky, a wistful smile spread across his face. The stars stirred within him a particular memory, one he held dear to his heart. Yet, before he could fully immerse himself in nostalgia, the howls of a distant wolf pack brought him back to reality. In an instant, a pang of melancholy and longing washed over him, the realization that he could never return to the life he once knew, no matter how challenging it may have been. The memories of that fateful night in the forest surged back with overwhelming force, flooding his mind with a torrent of emotions. Taking a few steps back, Stormflight closed his eyes tightly, seeking to bury the painful memories deeper within his mind. He couldn't bear the heartache they brought, not in this moment. With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes again, the weight of exhaustion pulling at him. Resolving to find comfort in his moss nest nestled in the corner of the ruined twoleg den, he curled up and let sleep overtake him.

It's not my best work:

I looked down at my former friend Rowan, trapped in the corner of the room as helpless as a rabbit in a snare. He held Ember, his dead girlfriend, close to his aching chest. As I examined his bloodied and bruised face, I saw pure terror directed at me in his once warm eyes. His brunette hair was sticking to his scalp with sweat. He was stroking Embers perfect golden hair as tears pricked at his eyes. Pathetic.