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

Disorientated - creative writing.

Extracts from this document...

Introduction

Disorientated My house is what you see when you leave yours, my house is the street. I've tried everything to get a new life- my wife doesn't accept me at home, every time I try to get a job, they immediately reject me, I guess I must be no-one. I'm twenty-three and I've ruined the rest of my life. I hardly remember the good times: my house, the feeling of love and respect, my two children. I can't even remember my face reflected in the mirror. My life had been fulfilling, full of pleasure and trust, until I started to drink. Some nights I remember going home drunk, eating a bit and then left home again for "the morning cognac." ...read more.

Middle

No worry about the water, I get that from the public toilets. How pathetic, I don't remember the taste of real water, but I can still taste the bitter taste of whiskey in my mouth. Sometimes images and memories struggle into my mind, but when I try to focus, they shatter and slowly fade. My life is just pointless. It's all simple routine. I wake up early- by the morning breeze clapping against cardboard sheets. I do what I can exploring every corner of the streets and with more detail into the rubbish. I'm ashamed Philosophers say that you get what you give. Now, I can prove that is true, but what about the second opportunity that God always gives us and that society won't accept? ...read more.

Conclusion

With this came the problems that I wouldn't want to face, so I just kept drinking. Problems became serious- I didn't want to see what was really in front of me. I'm confused; disorientated. I don't know what my next step will be. I don't know if I will end up in hospital again. I don't know if I will wake up tomorrow morning. My moods change like seconds. My emotions contradict each other. Even in dreams I see both of me fighting against each other: I have no clue what this means. I always feel cold, but I don't need a blanket. I need hot soup- a hug. That's the last opportunity I'm asking for, but nobody is interested in approaching me. That's the way things go. I embarrass them. ...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
  • Over 160,000 pieces
    of student written work
  • Annotated by
    experienced teachers
  • Ideas and feedback to
    improve your own work