The worst week of my life

Help! I whimpered as the wailing siren pierced my ears. "Come on! Hurry up!" My Sister, Anna whispered to me desperately, while scampering into our small, cramped Anderson Shelter. What was I going to do... or even worse, what was Granny Elma going to do? She was deaf! I reluctantly tiptoed through our long, wet garden with bare feet and finally managed to feel my way through and step in just in time. My teddy Rupert! Mum, did you bring Rupert with you? I enquired frantically. Mum, MUM, WHERE ARE YOU? My body felt like it had been wrapped in a cold blanket of ice. My heart missed a beat and began drilling through my ribs. A tight knot had formed in my throat. "She's just blowing out the candles, remember?" Anna reminded me. PHEWW! I wiped the access sweat of my brow in relief. One small candle was still shining brightly in our living room. AHH! I screamed. The smell of smoke crept into my nostrils. What the... "We've been bombed," sobbed Anna in agony. "She's dead." Dead? I gasped. But she can't be, Mum was only thirty - granny said you couldn't die at that age. I guess she lied. The train gave a sudden jolt. Where am I? I asked myself feeling rather confused. "Yer told me yer were on yer way to yer billet." The girl sitting directly opposite me replied. "I'm off to see my Granny." She announced, trying to make an interesting conversation. I

  • Word count: 6051
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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A story with no real end (or) The man with no identity

A story with no real end (or) The man with no identity I don't belong. Not here. Not now. I have to get back there. But how? The bet was rigged, he made me believe. Now there's darkness in my soul. I want to die... again. But I chose to come back. Why? "Services were held today for Lt. Colonel John McLeod at Arlington cemetery in Virginia. McLeod is best known for his courageous involvement in saving the president from an assassination attempt. McLeod rose through the ranks of the Marine Corps following his service overseas. His memory was honoured by the President and vice president, as well as hundreds of officers from all the armed services. His wife, Catharine Blake, remained quiet for the duration of the funeral, but seemed to be in need of help near the end of the proceedings. Friends and family have all been supportive, and will start a new scholarship fund in his name that will benefit the united Negro college fund. Michelle Gail reporting for CNN." "Lt. Colonel McLeod, who disappeared from public view shortly after the Hinckley incident, was believed to have been involved with numerous government task forces. Informed sources say that his presence in Botswana at the same time as young blood agents was no coincidence. Frankly, this stinks of a government cover-up. So what else is new? Though I'm sure Lt. Colonel McLeod was a man of courage and great integrity. It's

  • Word count: 6039
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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The Catcher in the Rye Journal Personal responses to the text

The Catcher in the Rye Double Sided Journal Quote Meaning Chapter 1 "They're nice and all-I'm not saying that-but they're also touchy as hell." Pg. 1 I can understand totally how he feels, considering most parents are like this. I know my parents are especially when it comes to personal things that no one else needs to know about. "You could see the whole field from there, and you could see the two teams bashing each other all over the place." Pg. 2 This quote reminds me of middle school when I used to sit in the bleachers watching the football games. It was pretty boring because not too many people when there. "I don't care if it's a sad good-by or a bad good-by, but when I leave a place I like to know I'm leaving it. If you don't then you feel even worse." Pg. 4 I felt this way when I moved from Germany over here into the U.S. I wanted to feel like I was leaving it but all I could think about was a new start. I wasn't sad and It really didn't feel like I was leaving. Now when I think about it I can say I miss it and I wish I would have said good-by to the place where I basically grew up in. Chapter 2 "The minute I went in I felt sorry I'd come." pg. 6 I felt that way every time I visited my grandma in the old folk's home. I felt so bad for her I always felt bad I've came there. She always made me feel so bad that she had to be in there. She reminded me of

  • Word count: 6024
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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forbidden love

Forbidden love It was a Dark and stormy night, thundering rain poured down. The road was surrounded by towering trees waving in the sky. The wind howled like a beast of prey scratching at the windows with claws of pine. The clouds were low and hairy in the skies, like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes. The rain beat down on the car like a steady current. The car sped down the rocky streets of India past the hedges and bushes till it halted at the brink of the precipice. A few minutes passed, the car then continued through the darkness of the night as it tumbled into utter nothingness. * * * * Amani looked into the mirror at her reflection as she smiled to herself. She was no ordinary girl; tall with exquisite amber eyes she was beautiful. Her curly russet brown hair cascaded down her back. Her complexion was like roses in cream. She had ideal body with curves in all the right places. With striking features and a dazzling smile she was just what the doctor ordered. Amani turned around to look at the clock lying on her bedside cabinet. She cursed under her breath, it was 12 o'clock and he was an entire hour late. She sat quietly on her bed careful not to make any noise. She was meant to be asleep hours ago. A smile appeared on Amani's lips as she thought about Chad. She had met him at one of her friend's parties. Since then she had been seeing him secretly. Chad

  • Word count: 5941
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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The day that my life changed.

The day that my life changed. The day that my life changed, maybe this isn't the best way to describe the mistakes that I made in the past, when I see myself lying there in the cold, dark room with thoughts screaming through my head, all I can think about is how young I was, so idle and stupid that I had no real dreams, no real fantasy and no real structure to my life, I was living in hope, I was in my world and I wasn't going to let anybody in, now I realize the foolish road I was walking. I suppose I should start at the beginning, I was 14 years old, at my friend Tom's house, I wasn't alone there. It was a not so unusual party, with the essence of cold beer and the sweet smell of burning cannabis, wafting over the heads of about 20 people, I for one was partaking in these substances, I was letting go off everything for that one night, with my closest friends and associates, I dedicated the night to being young, and celebrated by draining a bottle of wine in less then a minute. The sights and sounds around me where incredible, I could hear my very best friend, inside one of the caravans parked around the burning fire in which we where surrounded, she was giggling madly with another associate, rob I think his name was. At this party it seemed approved for everybody to hook up and pull, a normal teenage gang bang where kids get off their heads and sleep with the first thing

  • Word count: 5876
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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The Adventures of the Warrior Maximus.

Ryan Weiss 12/25/02 Creative Writing TB-8 The Adventures of the Warrior Maximus "Die, you evil thing, die," exclaimed Maximus as he swung his agile sword at the mutated spider. The spider quickly jumped back, and leaped into the trees. Maximus looked up, searching for the camouflaged spider. Suddenly, a white web engulfed the great warrior, rendering him helpless. The spider fell from the trees and slowly approached its weary prey. Maximus did not panic, and took out his pocket-blade, and released himself from the sticky prison. He swiped his sword up on the ground near him, severed three of the spider's legs. The spider screeched in anguish, and stumbled away. But the spider was to slow and Maximus came up behind the helpless creature, and thrusted his sword through the spider's head. The creature instantly collapsed, and Maximus grunted in victory. Unfortunately, Maximus was inflicted with poison from the web. He wearily began his journey home. As darkness engulfed the weary warrior, a soothing singing sound came from deep in the woods. The heavenly noise instantly put our brave warrior into a deep sleep where he tossed and turned with troubled dreams. "No, how can this be," exclaimed Maximus as he dropped to his knees in sadness. The Great Northern Dragons had destroyed his kingdom, leaving no survivors. Maximus crawled to his

  • Word count: 5816
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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Original writing: short story Count Eriq Gwevare looked over at his uncle, Dre. Dre held himself regally, powerfully

Original writing: short story Count Eriq Gwevare looked over at his uncle, Dre. Dre held himself regally, powerfully as he lifted the snifter of brandy to his lips and took a small draught. Eriq watched the wind sweep over his uncle's features: feathering his cape and pressing his exquisite, noble clothes against his taut, lean body. Dre's hair ruffled and Eriq watched him reflexively groom it. Since Eriq had last seen him, Dre had let his hair grow enough that he could put it back into a pony tail. That pony tail now rested peacefully, protected from the wind by the barrier of Dre's body. Though Dre had not changed, could not change, since he had taken his unlife, his powerful shoulders drooped like some unrelenting weight hung on them. Eriq stepped out of the shadows, letting the eerie moonlight hit his body. This action drew Dre out of his reverie and he turned to meet his nephew. "Ah, Eriq!" Dre said holding his hand up to beckon Eriq to his side. Eriq strode forth, his own powerful presence radiating confidence and proper demeanor. Having grown up a noble, he found it befitting that he should only present like a lord. "Uncle, I am sorry if I have disturbed you..." Eriq said. Dre held his hand up, cutting his sentence short. "Nonsense, it is not everyday that my one and only nephew may join me as I look over my majestic landscape." Eriq drew by his side. It was

  • Word count: 5808
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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"He's not actually a vampire. Do you honestly believe the rumors? "Of course I do! Everyone else does

Chapter 1 Katherine "Run! It’s the vampire!" "He's not actually a vampire. Do you honestly believe the rumors?” "Of course I do! Everyone else does. Just look at him; he always wears sunglasses, even when it’s not sunny. On top of that, look how pale he is!" We were on our way to school, just entering the front gates. "Our teacher said that he has sensitive eyes." "See? That proves it!” “How does that prove anything?” “The teacher's in on it too!" "You're crazy." "Oh yeah? I'll prove it!" He looked in my direction, "Hey Jack! Aren't you a vampire?" "Of course I am,” I said sarcastically. "Told you so," he said back to Katherine who had been arguing with him. "Shut up Michael!” she demanded, “There's no such thing as vampires! Quit it already!" Katherine Tyndall was fifteen years old. She was in grade ten, as well as Michael and I. She had lime-green eyes, long silver hair that reached down to her knees, and two French braids. They started from her forehead, curled around both sides of her head, covered the back of her neck, and stretched down her back. She was very beautiful, very smart. She was almost always cheerful and she was the only one who didn't call me a vampire. She was very kind and very popular. Her personality was very lady-like. You could tell that she came from a wealthy family just by the way she walked. She seemed perfect. I

  • Word count: 5793
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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Write the first, second, third and last chapters of a murder mystery set in your school.

Board: WJEC Subject: English Language Task: Write the first, second, third and last chapters of a murder mystery set in your school. Marking: Sixteen marks available for content, four marks for accuracy. My Mark: A*, twenty out of twenty. Adams' Grammar School Murder Mystery Chapter 1: The Death Of An Earthworm A new day dawned on Adams' Grammar School. It was a Tuesday in early March, bright with the promise of Spring. The sunlight glinted off the golden hands of the ancient school clock, momentarily dazzling Mr R. Jones, veteran teacher of history, as he moved busily about the grounds in search of the disappearing textbooks. The school seemed to light up with every footfall, painted with a brush of tranquillity and joy. He passed Mr Cripps' lesson, in which a stimulating lecture on igneous rocks had been interrupted by visitors. The younger man was now busily engaged in describing the wonders of chemistry to the prospective parents. They were highly impressed, if not a little bemused. Mr Jones drifted past a window, through which a pair of Sixth Formers could be seen socialising in their common room. One checked his watch, and trotted merrily off to his next lesson. The other retired to the library for study, settling down under the warm, comforting glow of the lights. His studious endeavours would put him in good stead for the test next lesson. Despite his

  • Word count: 5760
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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Creative Writing - "Emotions".

Immortal Creative Writing - "Emotions" I Shaking his head he cast his eyes across the room. Desolate while cluttered piles of papers, scatterings of small valuables, and furniture, all devoid of meaning. Everything had seemed to slow; every ounce of reality had come to mean nothing, and existed only to pass him on to the next recipient of his time. Sober steps carried him from his chair in the direction of the restroom. Swinging the door open he moved to stand in front of the mirror, gazing into what he called himself. Blue eyes, transparent in their opacity, miniscule spots marking the imperfections of the lens. Raven black hair, formed into a wild array of what they considered style, yet he knew style was a joke, ever cyclical, remembering and forgetting the feelings of the past, yet never exactly the same. Style was what blundered drunkenly through the oasis of eager sheep. A smile pulled the edges from his face at the thought. Style, so meaningless and fleeting, just like himself. Lately was not lately anymore, as it stretched over the past few years, but lately, he had been looking at his life, and the lives of others around him. They would all wake up and go to a job, earn their money, come home, and blow it on the trivialness of treating themselves to a movie or, save it. The people and scenarios varied, the activities contained the entire range, yet the

  • Word count: 5732
  • Level: GCSE
  • Subject: English
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