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

As he stood over the mangled corpse of the dead bird, saw the small patch of blood beneath it, and became consumed in its cold lifeless stare, a strange emotion came over him.

Extracts from this document...


Title As he stood over the mangled corpse of the dead bird, saw the small patch of blood beneath it, and became consumed in its cold lifeless stare, a strange emotion came over him. He had felt anger, he had felt remorse, he had even felt hate. This emotion, however, he couldn't describe. Earlier that morning he had watched his pet cat, Charlie, hunt down and cruelly kill the little thrush. He remembered enjoying watching Charlie thump the helpless birds head, until it could hardly walk, before savagely biting its neck, and squeezing. This emotion that he was feeling made him want revenge. The front room of their two-bedroom house was small. What little furniture there was, was closely packed together, and covered with cheap varnish. It was the middle of the day, but for some reason the lights were all on, leaving the room yellow, and only describable as 'shabby'. "Wayne!" His mothers voice was shrill with rage. Everything stopped for Wayne. He was filled with terror. What had he done wrong? What would his punishment be? Tears began to wander down his cheek. First, just one began its meandering path down his face. But that one quickly grew into a steady flow of tears, washing his energy away with them. As he took the long journey, down the stairs and into the front room, everything had stopped. There was no sound. The birds were not singing, the wind was not whistling, but his soul was screaming. ...read more.


Wayne was calm now; he harboured no guilt about the deed he had just committed. Killing, or at least wanting to kill, had become normal for Wayne now. He couldn't let people get him; he had to get them first. All of the shops were closed, as Wayne expected, but he couldn't help himself from sneaking a peek into the bakery window. To his disappointment, the curtains were drawn, so he could not see the tantalising cakes he loved so much. In the glass, he could however see his reflection. He never liked looking at himself, in photos, or in mirrors. The person he saw was not who he wanted to be. He slowly cast his eyes over the image of himself. His haircut was cheap, and his greasy black hair was almost at his shoulders. He had not shaved for a few days, and as such, he looked like a tramp on the street, dirty. His eyes frightened him. They seemed hollow, with no soul behind them. They were wide, and seemed to be crying for help. Wayne had worn the same clothes for the whole week; he didn't have much else. The green shirt, brown corduroy trousers, and black moccasins were badly worn. He was not tall, but he was incredibly strong, due to all of his weight training. His shoulders were hunched, his back awkwardly bent over, twisted. Shaped from his childhood. The left side of his mouth was paralysed, giving him a frightening smile. ...read more.


"Well," started Joan, removing one of the coconut cream cakes from the bag, "without this it only comes to �7.25. Is that ok?" "Couldn't you please let me off the last 35pence," he said. Surely she would allow him 35pence off. "I'm sorry too. But all of the other customers are paying for theirs, and you are no different to any of them. So either I remove an item from the bag, or you pay me �9.75. Its your choice." Those words cut through Wayne like a serrated knife. 'No different to any of the other customers' What was she saying? He had never felt so strongly about anyone before. Without saying anything, Wayne left the shop, his money, and his cakes still on the counter. 9 hours later, Joan was preparing to leave work. She took off her apron and hung it on the hook. She took an angel cake as a snack, and left. It was 15 minutes walk to her house from the bakery, but Joan didn't even think as she walked, the journey had become so routine. She took out her key, and was about to push it into the lock when she noticed that the door was already open. There were some odd scratch marks on the door frame, where it appeared the door had been forced open. Cautiously she stepped inside, and was greeted with silence. The eerie, unnerving sound of nothing. She took one step, then one more, until she turned to enter the lounge. She stumbled backwards Chris straker ...read more.

The above preview is unformatted text

This student written piece of work is one of many that can be found in our GCSE Writing to Inform, Explain and Describe 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 GCSE Writing to Inform, Explain and Describe essays

  1. I woke up to find my self dead... Lying there completely motionless; my body ...

    I could almost taste a the putrid smell that engrossed the air around my very soul, a decomposing smell, my body that lay before me was rotting away and I could not do a single thing to slow down the process.

  2. The lemon Orchard

    Oom start digging and buried the lantern bearer under a mound of cold, wet soil. "You can't do that you have to let his family know," the coloured man spoke up. "You stay out of this you hotnot. I don't want to be arrested."

  1. Revision : Blood Brothers

    Mrs Johnstone is superstitious and it is knowledge of this that enables Mrs Lyons to silence Mrs Johnstone. She tells Mrs Johnstone the superstition that should either brother discover that they were separated, they will both die. This becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

  2. Witch hunt

    She opened the yoghurt and scooped a spoonful, however, it never reached her mouth. Becky was now staring at herself on the news; she dropped the spoon, grabbed the control and turned the volume up. "Rebecca Rivers, known as Becky to her friends, is suspected of witchcraft.

  1. Nuclear Terror.

    They watched the glowing red light on the bomb turned green, but nothing happened, the van was silent, relieved, but then the team saw a fireball just before Rex's picture cut off, they had tripped the sensor and armed the bomb and then set it off.

  2. BANG! BANG! BANG! Her body collapsed to the ground. Her lifeless corpse lay in ...

    The Lions weren't too happy about this, so they took out your sister to get their own back." This was not the answer Michelle wanted to hear. She realised there may have been some logic in what he was saying, but she did not want to believe it.

  1. In Cold Blood.

    The answer was no! I would repent my sins in this life, not having another chance, just now. I always had the feeling that my past would catch up and haunt me. I was, however, totally oblivious to just how close this time was.

  2. The Lemon Orchard

    I would not let the gang strip me of all my dignity, so my answer was spoken with sarcasm, which, amazingly was missed by my captors. The insults were taking their toll and I began to feel weary, "We do not want any educated Bushmen in our town."

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