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Gcse Original Writing

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Opening to a story Genre: war and politics Audience: teenagers/adults Coarse, rocky terrain carpeted the concrete of which I laid upon. The tenebrous weather governed the clouds which suffocated the light from the moon thus blackening the atmosphere. Several sycamore trees stood firm in front of me, parallel from each other guarding the menacing ambience. It felt like a ghost town there were no buildings, no shops, and no life. I lay there shivering due to the outcome of the post war bloodshed, violently dumped on these streets. As I looked to the side I saw a straight road governed by an endless amount of white lines which ended at a complex, encompassed by several figures. A cacophony of instruments produced an assaulting raid on my eardrums, screeching sirens shot from oscillations of blood red light. My struggle to get up was pointless due to the lack of energy flowing through my body but instead I stumbled forward, continuing to seek refuge. The evening sky erupted with globules of liquid. The tangible substance showered bullets, drowning out my cry for help. I opened my mouth and slowly extended my tongue, catching the trickles of rainfall that dripped onto the tip. I was a young guy and before all this hate and war I had an untarnished face and was in fairly good shape. ...read more.


The sun set alight the azure sky, beaming through the windows of the semi-detached house. The newly settled bricks radiated in the morning galore. Like a cherry on top of a cake, the orchid roof sheltered the family of four. Hollow yet durable oak door swung open, inviting the aroma of breakfast in. I sat there; you could call me nonchalant, an average man, waiting to be supplied with breakfast, courtesy of my wife's benevolence. I remember when I first met her at a protest outside, her perfume smelt of the freshest Rose, so distinct, so beautiful. The White House about the war in the Arabian Peninsula, she told me she worked for the government but never told me what she did, even till this day. Moments later, a rhythmic knock on the door prompted me to leave my set. Leaving my seat, I approached the door, and peaked through the keyhole. "What do you want? I thought I've helped you enough!" I yelled, "Open the door this instance, don't make this mistake" commanded, a figure dressed in black "Is everything ok?" a distant voice came from the kitchen For a brief spell I suffered alexithymia, Bang! The hollow oak door shattered to the ground, several figures in matte black uniform diverged; all of them surrounded me, grabbing me by the neck. ...read more.


He had the complexion of a prisoner. Raising myself upon the concrete, my eyes fixed upon the several individuals approaching me cautiously. Standing there vigilantly, my fingers twitched and eased towards my pocket knife. "What brings you here?" questioned, a tall Caucasian man. "I need help; I'm a corporal for the British first division who served in the seven day war, have you got a communication medium which I can operate?" "Negative.", a high pitched voice came from behind the tall Caucasian man. "look I just want to use the phone, Who are you people anyway...?" I stuttered. "I work for the government." The female figure said proudly, walking towards me. The women with the balaclava came forward placing her arm on my shoulder remorsefully; a scent of the sweetest rose clogged my nose infectiously. Slowly, she removed her Balaclava from her face; her tongue waved like a flag as she wiped her lips, the street lights flickered violently. I hastily tried to reach for my pocket knife, producing the blade I - the street lights shut solemnly, tattered red, oozed along the floor. An army of cheers roared in the distance. The fresh scent of the Rose blossomed into the grace of death. The war had just begun. ?? ?? ?? ?? English - Original writing coursework Adnan Karim The Lammas school and sports college ...read more.

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