lyounamu
Reborn
- Joined
- Oct 28, 2007
- Messages
- 9,998
- Gender
- Male
- HSC
- N/A
EDIT: It's a "dad" not "uncle". I was alternating between them when I was writing it to see whether "dad" was better or not.
This is my desperate attempt at creative writing. It's quite poor actually but please have a read and suggest where I could improve.
Before you read, I have few things to mention: My first paragraph is actually a direct allusion to the HSC question. I used the actual HSC question 2 to answer the question so it's not plagiarism...And I actually gained some inspiration of my story from other sources but I never used the same story or same plot. It's purely my writing. "Dot-point" suggests a new paragraph.
Here we go:
· He used his aged, ruined voice like an old man’s hands to pick the lock on his past, but soon this was silenced by his violent coughs.
· Surrounded by the smouldering heat in a patient room, breathing heavily, he desperately searched for the right moment to get his voice together.
· “I was your age, maybe a little older when I followed my brother’s footstep to get my L’s. My passion for driving began from the first moment I got my L’s. It was only then that your grandparents bought me Mazda 626 and this became the object of my greatest obsession. I even named him ‘Alan’ in a memory of the greatest Australian car racer, Alan Jones ”
· Pausing shortly to fix his position on his bed, he awkwardly activated his body in an effort to make himself more comfortable.
· “Alan meant the world to me. Driving him provided me with my only comfort zone from the stress of HSC, rejection letter from Jane Wayne, Fs on my exam papers and argument with my parents. Having Alan with me was like having a pair of wings to fly out to the outer space where I could be accepted and respected for being who I am…”. His coughs interrupted again. Annoyed by his lack of control, he cleared his throat violently to adjust his voice.
· With his voice loaded heavy with emotion he began again. “After my sudden drop out of the school, I was soon introduced to Manly-based gangs by my mates. It was truly an honour to be part of a group where my talent in driving was upheld strongly”. Dad attempted a chuckle, but a cough ruined it instead. His health had been deteriorating rapidly for the last few months.
· “The gang’s boss, Michael Coombs bequeathed once-in-a-life-time opportunity of competing in a car racing against another group of gang based in Redfern upon me. This match meant a lot for the group as this determined whether they get their pockets full of extra cash or not. It was up to my old Alan to guarantee that I had a good match”. Shadow soon overcame his calm face expression.
· “The luck was not on my side that day. Racing around the city at midnight completely took Alan off the touch and this loss caused a serious backlash from the members. As some were summoning my death to be the consequence of the loss, my fate depended on the decision from the boss.”
· “However, the anger occupied my fellow gangs ahead of time. I was soon repeatedly bashed, cut and stabbed by the mob and left on the street dying. My last memory before I fell into eternal dream was of Alan slowly getting consumed by the mob”. Uncle closed his eyes, and I saw his tears running down his cheek. It was at that time that I noticed the distinctive scar that went across his cheek.
· “When I woke up, I was lying on my bed with my vision temporarily impaired, then I realised that I was admitted in the hospital due to coma in the past 2 weeks”. Uncle opened his eyes, and the tears were filling eyes faster now.
· “I was completely devastated. It was as if I just lost the biggest piece of my life. I couldn’t go on and I surrounded myself with alcohol and experimented on marijuana”. Uncle took a deep breath, and I still am uncertain if it was to calm himself down or to swallow more desperately needed oxygen.
· “But it’s funny how you can find courage and strength in the strangest of times and places. After days of nothing but drug and alcohol addiction, I came across my rescuer who saved me from the edge of the death after the bashing. It was because of doctor’s help that I could come together with the rescuer”. The gloomy facial expression was suddenly replaced by his attempt at a smile.
· “That’s how I found my bride” he said. And then came the conclusion. “Alan was nowhere to be found but that didn’t matter. Because that day getting myself bashed by the mob and getting Alan lost, I realised what I had lost and what I had found. Yes, I lost my prized car, but I found your mother. I found a true treasure who helped me getting back on a new life.”
· He slowly screwed his eyes shut once more, he appeared to be at peace. I gradually felt the pressure of his hand around mine loosening. I could clearly hear the monotone of the life support machine. My eyes filled, as those final gasps of air forced their way through his lips I realised that I had lost a true treasure.
This is my desperate attempt at creative writing. It's quite poor actually but please have a read and suggest where I could improve.
Before you read, I have few things to mention: My first paragraph is actually a direct allusion to the HSC question. I used the actual HSC question 2 to answer the question so it's not plagiarism...And I actually gained some inspiration of my story from other sources but I never used the same story or same plot. It's purely my writing. "Dot-point" suggests a new paragraph.
Here we go:
· He used his aged, ruined voice like an old man’s hands to pick the lock on his past, but soon this was silenced by his violent coughs.
· Surrounded by the smouldering heat in a patient room, breathing heavily, he desperately searched for the right moment to get his voice together.
· “I was your age, maybe a little older when I followed my brother’s footstep to get my L’s. My passion for driving began from the first moment I got my L’s. It was only then that your grandparents bought me Mazda 626 and this became the object of my greatest obsession. I even named him ‘Alan’ in a memory of the greatest Australian car racer, Alan Jones ”
· Pausing shortly to fix his position on his bed, he awkwardly activated his body in an effort to make himself more comfortable.
· “Alan meant the world to me. Driving him provided me with my only comfort zone from the stress of HSC, rejection letter from Jane Wayne, Fs on my exam papers and argument with my parents. Having Alan with me was like having a pair of wings to fly out to the outer space where I could be accepted and respected for being who I am…”. His coughs interrupted again. Annoyed by his lack of control, he cleared his throat violently to adjust his voice.
· With his voice loaded heavy with emotion he began again. “After my sudden drop out of the school, I was soon introduced to Manly-based gangs by my mates. It was truly an honour to be part of a group where my talent in driving was upheld strongly”. Dad attempted a chuckle, but a cough ruined it instead. His health had been deteriorating rapidly for the last few months.
· “The gang’s boss, Michael Coombs bequeathed once-in-a-life-time opportunity of competing in a car racing against another group of gang based in Redfern upon me. This match meant a lot for the group as this determined whether they get their pockets full of extra cash or not. It was up to my old Alan to guarantee that I had a good match”. Shadow soon overcame his calm face expression.
· “The luck was not on my side that day. Racing around the city at midnight completely took Alan off the touch and this loss caused a serious backlash from the members. As some were summoning my death to be the consequence of the loss, my fate depended on the decision from the boss.”
· “However, the anger occupied my fellow gangs ahead of time. I was soon repeatedly bashed, cut and stabbed by the mob and left on the street dying. My last memory before I fell into eternal dream was of Alan slowly getting consumed by the mob”. Uncle closed his eyes, and I saw his tears running down his cheek. It was at that time that I noticed the distinctive scar that went across his cheek.
· “When I woke up, I was lying on my bed with my vision temporarily impaired, then I realised that I was admitted in the hospital due to coma in the past 2 weeks”. Uncle opened his eyes, and the tears were filling eyes faster now.
· “I was completely devastated. It was as if I just lost the biggest piece of my life. I couldn’t go on and I surrounded myself with alcohol and experimented on marijuana”. Uncle took a deep breath, and I still am uncertain if it was to calm himself down or to swallow more desperately needed oxygen.
· “But it’s funny how you can find courage and strength in the strangest of times and places. After days of nothing but drug and alcohol addiction, I came across my rescuer who saved me from the edge of the death after the bashing. It was because of doctor’s help that I could come together with the rescuer”. The gloomy facial expression was suddenly replaced by his attempt at a smile.
· “That’s how I found my bride” he said. And then came the conclusion. “Alan was nowhere to be found but that didn’t matter. Because that day getting myself bashed by the mob and getting Alan lost, I realised what I had lost and what I had found. Yes, I lost my prized car, but I found your mother. I found a true treasure who helped me getting back on a new life.”
· He slowly screwed his eyes shut once more, he appeared to be at peace. I gradually felt the pressure of his hand around mine loosening. I could clearly hear the monotone of the life support machine. My eyes filled, as those final gasps of air forced their way through his lips I realised that I had lost a true treasure.
Last edited: