Original Writing Coursework
Daniel French - English Coursework
Original Writing Coursework
Dawn sat on a rotting wooden bench by the harbour, waiting for the boat that would take her across the lake.
"I'm waiting for Josephine, Miss", said an elderly man as he sat beside her. Dawn sighed inwardly. She did not feel like talking and after all, she did not know this man sitting beside, nor did she know any one called Josephine.
"She'll be on the next ferry," he continued, " Are you taking the next ferry?" His voice was pleasant, friendly and nice. Dawn glanced at her watch, she still had two hours to wait. She wanted quiet, she wanted to be on her own. Still, a question had been asked and a reply was needed.
"Yes," she responded in a quiet voice, " I'll be taking the next ferry." He nodded and seemed satisfied. That brought him into a thoughtful silence. Dawn took the opportunity in this silence to steal a quick glance at him. He seemed to be of quite old age, his face lined with wrinkles and his pale blue eyes reflected deep sadness. He wore a crisp, black suit with a white shirt and black tie. His black shoes were polished so thoroughly that you could see your face in them. His attire was a bit bizarre for a stroll by the harbour. He seemed to be wearing the sort of clothes you would wear to a funeral. Dawn thought she'd snatched a brief glance but when his eyes met hers she realised she must have been staring. She smiled quickly and a little too widely hoping it would serve as an apology.
The sea slowly came in and out at the side of the harbour and the sun shone down on them, minutes seemed to pass like hours, but Dawn liked this man, he reminded her that she was without a grandfather and that he might do the job well. In a bid to pass the time away more quickly Dawn attempted to find out a bit more about him.
" Who is Josephine?" he looked startled when she asked this question.
"Josephine, is the girl I am waiting for." This reply was a little strange but his ...
This is a preview of the whole essay
The sea slowly came in and out at the side of the harbour and the sun shone down on them, minutes seemed to pass like hours, but Dawn liked this man, he reminded her that she was without a grandfather and that he might do the job well. In a bid to pass the time away more quickly Dawn attempted to find out a bit more about him.
" Who is Josephine?" he looked startled when she asked this question.
"Josephine, is the girl I am waiting for." This reply was a little strange but his voice was loving. " Why are you going to the island?" he asked Dawn attempting to take the conversation away from Josephine.
" I have sort of ...... run away. I need some time and space to help sort things out in my head." He nodded as though he knew exactly what Dawn was talking about.
" The island is a good place for quiet thinking" he said in a melancholy voice. Dawn was still curious about Josephine.
"Does Josephine live on the island?"
"Not any more, She's coming back now on the ferry you'll be taking over there.
"Is she your wife?
"No" After a few minutes of silence Dawn spotted the ferry approaching.
" Can you see her?" she asked, watching his blue eyes scan the figures on the deck. "Josephine, is she there?" But he is too busy looking throughout the crowd to answer.
Now the deck is deserted and the passengers have dispersed. He turns to Dawn,
"I'm waiting for Josephine," he tells her looking disorientated and down. Dawn feels concerned for him and cross with Josephine.
"Why don't I take the next ferry? I could wait with you." Dawn suggested.
"No, no, the island awaits you. I'm waiting for Josephine, she'll be here soon. Perhaps on the next ferry."
Dawn shuffled and wished him well. He said good luck but his watery eyes are else where, forever scanning. As the ferry moved she watched his figure diminish. A part of her wanted to be back with him but anyway, Josephine had probably just missed the boat.
After Dawn had spent two days on the island she felt ready to go back home. On the final day he hired a bike for the morning. The bike was old and was ratteling a lot, but she didn't notice this as she sailed down deserted lanes with the hush and rustle of long grass toning down the creaks of the bicycle. Dawn felt good and peaceful, alone but not lonely. As she cycled though she noticed a figure entwined in weeds and grass. As she moved the grass and weeds away she could see the form of a little girl captured in bronze. The girl was about six years old and held a bunch of flowers in her small motionless hands. The statue was streaked with green-grey moss and water stains, which showed its age. Below the figure a small plaque stood with the words:
"Josephine 1950 - 1956"
Dawn's eyes began to fill up with tears as she realised who Josephine was. She gathered up a small collection of flowers from a near - by flower bed, and placed them in front of the statue.
"Here Josephine, from him to you."
When she was back at the hotel she approached Martha the landlady, a small woman in her sixties.
"Martha, who was Josephine?" With a sad tired shake of her head Martha gazed into the middle distance at a point not visible to Dawn.
"Little Josephine Birch, a lovely young girl, She was always full of joy. She found a boat, but, although we drum it into our kids heads not to play in the water, somehow this boat was just too irresistible. She wanted to follow her daddy to work. Only the boat was found. We searched for days, weeks, even months. Her dad, Sam, was distraught. He soon left the island and he has never returned, he was soon found dead in a nearby hotel, on the other side of the lake. Legend has it that his ghost sits down and waits on Josephine's favourite bench - where they both used to sit and eat ice cream's in the summer. Talking to other lonely girls without a family, waiting for Josephine to arrive from the other side of the lake."
Dawn was anxious as she neared the land. She didn't want to believe the story that Martha had told her, but she didn't put it out of her head. She was so confident that he was there speaking to him just a few days earlier, but the story was so believable, any way "ghost's don't exist" She told herself.
As she got of the boat, she made her way anxiously to the bench where she was speaking to the 'ghost'. There she saw a small, crumpled - up piece of paper sitting on the bench, with the name 'Dawn' on the front. She sat down on the bench and turned over the piece of paper, there was a small note on the other side, reading:
'Thank you Miss, I only wish I could have seen her last'
She put the piece of paper in her pocket and turned into the crowd, astonished and scared.