• Join over 1.2 million students every month
  • Accelerate your learning by 29%
  • Unlimited access from just £6.99 per month

Creative writing - A Penny For The Guy

Extracts from this document...

Introduction

´╗┐Coursework: Short Story Coursework: short story Penny for the Guy Penny for the Guy The resistance was beginning to lessen now- as the syringe compressed further, the potential of movement decreased. His limbs were stilled. Now his body was numb- no- numb was the wrong word. The dull, throbbing wound on the back of his head stood testament to that. He slumped on the floor, collecting dirt and dust as he lay immobilised. The room was cold. He would have shivered if he could, but fighting the still ness was impossible. It was futile. To me, bonfires- with their earthy scent of burning, crackling and intense heat- almost seem akin to a pagan festival. It is, after all, a congregation worshipping a fire. However, this is a ritual I have been left to enjoy alone. I?m waiting for him, periodically checking my phone, feeling yet another twinge of annoyance. No missed calls. No new messages. I stamp my feet on the ground, partly for warmth, partly from irritation. This is so unlike him, he usually rings when he?s running late. I have no idea where he could be. The room was dark, but the hood was darker. The sacking felt rough against his cheek, and smelt industrial; an infusion of earth and chemicals. His face was confined, suffocating as the air around him dissipated. ...read more.

Middle

He is still not here- I?m angry now. I?m entertaining myself imagining all the things I will say to him when he arrives; all the ways I can accuse him of this selfishness. All the ways I can storm off, and all the ways he can follow me. At this point I?ve imagined five different ways he could apologise to me- I?m trying to decide which version I like best. It?s a hard decision. Of course, despite all the ways I?m hoping he will receive my anger, I know he won?t be apologetic. He?s the kind of man who refuses to admit that from time to time, he can be wrong. He will twist this argument back in my face, and once more, his tardiness will be my fault. Everything is my fault. I can only occupy myself with this for so long. For the umpteenth time, I gaze through the crowd, my eyes falling on sights I?ve already seen. Apart from one thing. I didn?t notice it before, it wasn?t visible from the other side. Slumped on the wooden decking is the bonfire?s guy. With its defined body shape, it is strikingly realistic, dressed all in black with dark sacking for a head. The workmanship of it is in some ways beautiful, but for some reason- and I can?t quite put my finger on why- I find it disturbing too. Less a sack of straw, more a bag of bones. ...read more.

Conclusion

The crowd goes wild. Everybody loves a bonfire. I stand alone, watching as the flames consume the wooden pallets from all sides. Soon the fire is roaring, a bright light against the bleak autumn sky. It?s a beautiful sight. Watching the dancing, ravenous flames, I?m no longer angry. I just miss him, I realise. I wish he was here. There was a time- and thankfully it came sooner rather than later- when his brain was not made predominantly of grey matter anymore. The percentage had been overturned by fire, and subsequently was no longer able to function as brains do. And so he lay in the flames, though there was little point in determining ?him? by a pronoun anymore- His body was also, predominantly, fire. The bones were being fast devoured by the flames, which were still ravenous. This consumption was accompanied by the raucous noises of the crowd, which had continued since the fire?s lighting. They cheered onwards, until all that was left was a little marrow, and ash. Overall, the townsfolk deemed the bonfire a success. It had been the largest fire to date, and had attracted the largest crowd on record. There was only one complaint, however. Some local residents reported a strange, persisting smell, which lingered in the area for some time afterwards. No one could quite put their finger on what it was. Many people blamed the bonfire?s caterers, accusing them of cooking something foul. However, in time the smell faded, and was forgotten. ...read more.

The above preview is unformatted text

This student written piece of work is one of many that can be found in our AS and A Level Composition section.

Found what you're looking for?

  • Start learning 29% faster today
  • 150,000+ documents available
  • Just £6.99 a month

Not the one? Search for your essay title...
  • Join over 1.2 million students every month
  • Accelerate your learning by 29%
  • Unlimited access from just £6.99 per month

See related essaysSee related essays

Related AS and A Level Composition essays

  1. short storty 'LUCKY ESCAPE'

    me mad lets stay positive, what happened to being strong for the boy" said dad........

  2. English Language AS Level Coursework: Creative Writing Piece

    how it is a plea for attention, pathetic, and nodding and agreeing, laughing, then making your excuses and sobbing in a toilet cubicle, because maybe it's true. It doesn't feel that way - if you were doing it for attention surely you would have told somebody, but no one knows.

  1. The Watch (english language creative writing)

    I spy only upon a small yellow house, a mere nineteen meters from my very residence. Inside this small house, gleaming with fake satisfaction and false contentment.

  2. An inspector calls

    The inspector feeds on this and uses it to implicate her further. This gives an impression of the inspector's superior knowledge To the Birlings and builds on the sense of impending doom in the Act. Adding to that, the family, especially Sheila, feel there is no point in lying because the inspector knows the truth.

  1. Creative Writing - The cool October wind brushed the autumn leaves, making a sharp ...

    The darkness had overcome the light forever. For Michael it did not matter if he stood up to the darkness. It meant nothing. With that he closed his eyes, allowing the darkness to win. He forced his eyes open, unwilling to believe that everything meant nothing.

  2. In Cold Blood- Creative Writing

    As those moments passed, everything that Biff knew in his entire life seemed to fade away like dust in the blowing wind; his father was a phony, a filthy deceptive liar who lived life with such false purpose. He was nothing but a phony who built these magnificent aspirations of

  1. In Cold Blood: Creative Writing. My coursework is a short story which includes a ...

    ? As Gordon Dale Chappell closed the diary, he remembered Lowell Lee Andrews, the heavy young kid whose appearance suggested that he wouldn?t even imagine stealing from a drugstore let alone slaughter his own family. It saddened him that Andrew had decided to get rid of his own family and

  2. Old Shildon town - creative writing piece

    The Shildon Youth were definitely living up to my expectations, and I was beginning to enjoy seeing how the other half live. I decided though that it would be in my best interests to leave The Rek before I to was handed a bottle of cheap price cider and ended

  • Over 160,000 pieces
    of student written work
  • Annotated by
    experienced teachers
  • Ideas and feedback to
    improve your own work