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

Fictional Piece Daddy's' Girl.

Extracts from this document...


Fictional Piece Daddy's' Girl It was screaming for domestic attention. I hadn't cleaned the spare room for a long time, and it was crowded with junk from school and college. So I did. I was quickly becoming drenched in grime and dirt, with flecks of dust lacing my hair. I opened up yet another large brown box, and what I found was going to bring it all back. Yes, it would bring back something I almost forgot ever happened. It was that long ago, and my memories had become faded, dusty and shut up like everything else around me. Perhaps if I can recall it, then I can put it all behind me again, just as I did the last time. Whenever anyone thought of Judy Forrester, they pictured her in a ballet costume, gracefully performing, knowing that each and every step had been rigorously enforced on her and perfected, until she could "move" the audience. She had talent, but she had something else, more than that. A gift from God, if you believe in that sort of thing. ...read more.


Daddy was the only who believed in me, the only one who thought I could match her. I could confide in him, tell him how I wanted her gone. Just to never hear the teachers praise her, friends admire her, papers to stop printing pictures of her clutching yet another trophy, gushing like some pathetic film star, quoting to have said something like, "Oh, I'm so shocked, the others were all so good........................" Daddy stopped buying them. He understood what it did to me. Daddy said that if you wished hard enough for something then it might happen. In November 1980, I had injured myself. The ligaments in my left calf were torn, from all the overtime I was putting in to my routine. I was practicing for the Under 18's National Ballet Awards. Naturally Judy was taking part, rehearsing every night, often until ten o' clock, some of the others told me. I told Daddy and he cuddled me in his big strong arms and told me that I would be back with vengeance soon. I put all my efforts into my college work and found out where my sparkle was, music. ...read more.


Her legs, now paralysed, could never perform again and take her to victory. She was paralysed for life. I could dance as she could not. A few months later, I entered my first competition since the accident and won. My first trophy, gold, sat gleaming over the fireplace. Daddy was overjoyed and bought me a new costume, he was so proud. As I glanced at it properly for the first time, I was filled with guilt and regret. If the "accident" had not happened, Judy would have this trophy, on her fireplace, amongst all the others. Daddy wanted to know why I was so upset. I told him that I felt guilty about Judy. He said I got what I wished and should be happy. He looked away from me when he said this, something that my father never does. Then reality dawned on me. I asked Daddy about the accident. He said he was tired, went to bed and never mentioned the accident or Judy Forrester again. That same night I gave up dancing. I could not do it anymore. The trophy's' I could have won were not mine, they were Judy's'. And now, as I look at the trophy in my hands, I know why. ...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. The Gift

    Dad! I've got something for you!" Kevin's father, wearing a dark blue flannel robe, a warm blanket covering his knees, was sitting in a chair by an open window. On his lap lay a half-read book, the story long forgotten, as he gazed off into the distance, thinking wistfully of better days.

  2. Morning of the 26th.

    Then, as instantly as it had begun the separation was complete and Logan Harne had disappeared. "Out of sight, out of mind," That's what my mother had always told me. I only wish she had been right.

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