Hello, I am 18 years old and 65,000 words into writing my book. I was just posting here for some constructive criticism or if possible, apporval. Basically the character has amnesia (I know its a cliche, but I make it work) and is all alone on the Earth. He has been struggling for weeks to survive and he has had enough of being trapped in what he thinks is a desert (I have many plot twists and themes experienced in the book, so everything is not as it seems). Anyway, here is my first chapter:-

I awoke today alone and disconcerted to the unusual stench of burnt rubber. I rubbed the clammy sleep away from my puffy, lifeless eyes, and I yawned to the heavens, longing for some much important companionship, feeling energy drained and dejected, I questioned the importance of life dispiritedly, contemplating taking my own life to make the pain, loneliness and depression end abruptly. Tires were burning bright causing an incendiary luminous glow, polluting the already mephitic air and creating a veil of black smoke in the distant atmosphere, blocking out the horizon. The sky was eclipsed by total darkness in an everlasting twilight state, there was nothing other than dusk clouds and bleakness as far as the eye could see. I didn’t even know what country I was in any more, my confusion was at an all time high along with the amnesia; I had no memory of anything that had transpired in my life other than this past month, I feel very vulnerable, isolated and disorientated out here. The yard indulges me with immense cabin fever sending me partially crazy, it feels like I am constantly being watched by an anonymous being yet I remain all alone. I have not experienced one slice of happiness or joy during my time spent at the yard; in fact misery and sorrow are all that derive from this abysmal place. I have an unexplained gut feeling, constantly eating at me, falsely informing me I am permanently in the looking glass being watched and stalked by a secretive entity, for some sick and bedazzling reason. I feel this rash, unexplainable intuition will not evaporate until I find evidence of other humans or at the bare minimum some form of life here on Earth.
e numbers or addresses. It was like my mind was just wiped blank and I was left stranded in unknown territory to rot just like the scrap at the junk yard, entrapped in all of its perpetual misery till blue in the face.
Destroy all humans, envision the apocalypse... Ah, what is that indistinct whisper I hear all the time at any given moment? I am not sure if it is my conscience playing a trick on me or a lingering voice, haunting me and trying to guide me to better things. I have heard this same voice for the past few weeks and it is still not clear to me as to what it is, but I assure you I will find out before the day is over.

After looking hopelessly into the distance, my thoughts are tumbling around my head like a pneumatic drill, my bemusement crossing the limits of sanity at a colossal speed; I try to comprehend what feasible cause could have done this to the local domain, and relish the prospect that other parts of the Earth are intact and thriving with life. I decide today is the day I will embark upon a journey to discover if anybody else is out there and what my destiny has lied ahead. The bleak surroundings offer me no guidance as I can’t see the stars or the sun to get my Barings, Astronomy is inconceivable at present time. I feel muddled and as blind as a bat except I am relying purely on ambition and intuition to get from one place to another rather than sound and smell like a bat. I decide to fetch a bicycle from the scrap metal and fix the chain on it rapidly so it can be ridden; I hurriedly retrieve the necessary equipment from the small house I had lived in at the junk yard and get to work on escaping this unholy terrain. I am forced to venture incognito. Weeks living on a disgusting river with no transparency and small rations of revolting food that even a rat would despise were all that kept me alive. The water had no life in it either just like everything else around this barbarous territory. It seems the Death of the Earth had occurred but the Earth had spared me for some strange and unknown reason.

About approximately two hours of riding the bike, I feel dehydration and exhaustion kicking in coarsely. My lips are juiceless, chapped as a dried out lake bed. I spot a nearby river with flowing water, but the river is tainted just like the one at the junk yard. Except surprisingly even more polluted and Black as the night sky. I get off the bike and decide to get my flask, I dip it gently into the water getting a litre into the flask; I then create a fire to heat the water and kill any parasites that may be lurking in it. I drink the water and it feels so cool and refreshing upon my parched, dry mouth. I gulp down half a litre of it and feel the thirst gradually disappear, but not fully satisfied. I take a moment to think about my current circumstance and just constantly envisage the dreams I have been having, also I think about the amnesia I am suffering from and how I am going to regain my memory. I look up at the sky with faith that the clouds have created an opening but again there is no sky or horizon, my optimistic feelings are immediately overthrown with pessimistic judgement. Just sombre Grey clouds and a depressing darkness are all that I observe to my dismay. I look at my watch and it says it is 2:00 PM thank God for my watch otherwise I would have no clue what the current time is.

I recognize my surroundings for three hundred and sixty degrees are ditto, sand dunes, gloomy clouds and no visible sunlight are all that swamp the uniform landscape. I suddenly realise I have no way of finding my way back to the junk yard now and I am on a one way mission, never heading backwards, a real dynamite predicament, adventuring further forward merely on gut instinct. ... Keep heading north ... I hear in my head loudly as it dearly unsettles me. I use survival methods I didn’t know I possess to survive, you could call them innate. I eat what appear to be dried berries off a dead plant, I gather as many as I can from within the sand and store them in my coat pocket. My legs still stiff and cramping up as a result of the bike ride. I take a causal pause, and then amazingly get the Will and motivation to get on the bike and keep on heading to what I think is north, following the voice in my head’s orders, perhaps they will bring me some exuberant feelings. With each yard forward I sense an invisible presence peering at me from each and every angle, almost as if it was lurking in the shadows ready to pounce like a starving tiger, hunting patiently but agitated. I instantly feel drastic vibes channelling down my spine with intent, the aura of an all seeing, omnipresent being penetrates and occupies the region, compelling me to feel off the scale paranoia. I am riding the bike slowly as to not aggravate my already tight and inflexible legs; I hear the soft sound of crunching sand behind me, pursuing me with eminent and major commitment. I constantly look over my shoulder insightfully but nothing is there, an overwhelming disappointment hits me extensively. I feel bitter yet relieved that I spotted nothing following me, thanks to the possibility that it could be something harmful hunting me down, trying to corner and capture me. I hear the continuous, chomping sand behind me every step of the way for a few miles. I glance over my shoulder and see a vague shadow hovering over me; it quickly vanishes upon me making eye contact with it and leaves no tangible trace whatsoever. Was it a spirit? Or was it just a figment of my imagination? All I know is I must ride on until something useful comes into sight, which I hope will come to pass in the imminent future.

I like the plot, but the character lost me with his/her words like, disconcerted.
Sentences like, "I hear in my head loudly as it dearly unsettles me," take away from a character who is in a world of trouble. Keep the words simple.

Put action into the character. How would you feel if you found yourself alone in a city? Would you believe you were alone in the world? Would you have fear? What would you do in your first few hours?

You have the story in good order...and I see you can write, all you need now is to learn the tricks.

A good book is Stein on Writing, by Sole Stein.
ISBN 0-312-25421-0

Domenic

Thanks for the reply, yeah the voices in his head lead onto the second chapter you see... I don't want to say much as it will tell people too much about my story, but it has big relevance to the story. He has been alone for weeks in the desert so the story doesn't start the first day he has amnesia, that is why he believes he is the last person on Earth and has already passed the panic stage.

I am grateful for your views and it has helped me fix the chapter alot

Honestly,
It sounds like you are trying way too hard to impress the reader with words they might hear put together once in a lifetime. Some of the words are out of place. They don't belong with the sentences.
"I instantly feel drastic vibes channelling down my spine with intent?" One can take drastic measures to overcome an obstacle, but to feel drastic vibes is a stretch in anyone's vocabulary.
My lips are juiceless? This is a bad attempt to enhance your writing. I like the comparison to a dry river bed, but leave out the juiceless. "My lips felt like a dry river bed longing for the refreshing of a gentle rain." This sounds more like English than juiceless.
Another thing. Wouldn't it be easier to write this story as if the main character were keeping track of days. EG: "Day one: Woke up without my memory. Nothing but devastation everywhere. Got to get my bearings, find out what happened here."
I don't know, it just seems like the story is lacking something from the viewpoint you are telling it. Can the story be saved? Yes, but it definitely needs a major overhaul on the language.
The basic story is fine. But in all honesty, people just don't talk like this character. It's like I'm reading a different language. Don't try so hard to use words you are not comfortable with. Your use of words seems strained like you are trying too hard not to use the same words twice. It really is okay to use words more than once. Just use them with different phrasing.
Keep writing and finish the story. You can go back over it and polish it later. Like I said, the basic story is fine.