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Great Exspectations Essay

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Introduction

Great Expectations Original Writing Task The Boy Cold, wet, shivering, mind muddled from sleep deprivation and hunger, verging on starvation, I propel myself forwards in a trance like state. Away from the marshes, briars and flint cut into my skin like a blade, yet the fear I feel prevents my brain registering the pain. Nettles sting my bruised flesh, but I do not care. The heaviness of the great iron on my leg is a constant reminder of my imminent fate if caught! Unable to stagger another inch I stop, falling to the damp earth. Wrapping my arms around my rag clothed body numb with cold, I huddle close to the grave stones. Trying to train my weary eyes to focus on the words written upon the moss covered stone, in an attempt to stay awake and keep my wits about me, I read George Thomas Smith late of this parish; I shiver again. Then I am alerted to a sound which warms my freezing body with fear. ...read more.

Middle

I peer down at my shackled leg. "You get me a file and you get me whittles, or I'II have your heart and liver out." I fell guilty at frightening the young chap, but he is my only hope! and I know that by frightening him in this way, it is the only chance I have of escape. Not entirely satisfied my words have scared the chid enough, I threaten him with a fellow worse than myself! as if! I tell him that if he doesn't do as I say, then he will not be safe in his house or bed. And as I watch his young face register my threats, I am aware that he believes every- single- word! And as he leaves I am left with some hope that he will return. I turned away as the boy escapes back to his family, to food and shelter. My mind wanders, but I stop it in its tracts. "Can't go there!" I warn myself. Have to concentrate, stay alert, stay alive! ...read more.

Conclusion

My eyes drop to his left hand, for in it he holds a file about to snatch it, I spy the bundle he is holding in his other hand. Food! Brandy! I grab the food swallowing it so quickly I almost choke. My starving stomach growls like a dog. I tear at the food like the animal I have become. "Leave any for him?" questions the boy. "Who's him?" I ask pausing for breath. "The young man that you spoke of," he replies. An all consuming anger erupts in the pit of my stomach. My brain feels about to explode, as my mouth barks an avalanche of questions. What did the man look like? How long ago did he see him? Which direction? Show me show me I cry! He indicates in the direction of the rising mist. Roughly, I grab the file and begin to work at the shackle in a frenzied manner, backward and forward. Anger and fear my only emotion. I wasn't aware when he left, only of the relief when the shackle snapped open. Unaware of my bloody blistered hands, standing I stride stealthy in the direction the boy indicated. LUKE BRADDOCK 10 GU ...read more.

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