jackmurray1989
Mr Mature
We have an Adv. English assesment task worth 25%. It's a take-home creative writing task, and I suck balls, hard. I'd be eternally greatful if someone with a bit of spare time on their hands or someone with a few English skills could give me some constructive (or blatantly offensive, doesn't worry me) critism.
Here's the question. "From the perspective of Jerry's mother [Stimulus text. Jerry's mother played a very small role in a journey Jerry went on discovering and going through a tunnel at the beach], compose a piece of writing which explores the predicament referred to in the text. It should contain some form of journey, may be based on the immediate situation in the texts, be drawn from their past experiences or look into the future. 1000 word limit."
I'd owe you bigtime if you could help me out.
Cheers, Jack.
“I’d like to have a look at those rocks down there,” blurted out Jerry. “Of course, darling, when you’ve had enough come back to the big beach,” I said as strolled across the rickety boards, worrying all the way. I knew exactly what he was up to. He was looking for the tunnel. The tunnel with all its inherent dangers. The tunnel I once knew so well…
“Bet you can’t do this,” called my 15 year old brother, Rick, as he leapt off the rock-ledge into the water and disappeared. I rolled my eyes as hundreds of tiny bubbles fizzed and sprang to the surface. He was going to pretend to drown, again. The trick may have worked on a 5 year old, but not on an 11 year old, like me. I counted, 1, 2, 3… 45, 45 and a half, 46.
“Yes!” gasped Rick as he burst out of the water and climbed up onto the rock. “A new personal best: 3 and a half minutes.”
“Liar!” I called as I pushed him back into the water with a crack as he broke the surface. “That was only 46 seconds and you know it.”
“Yeah?” said Rick defiantly, “Well watch this then, stupid.”
He went back under the water. He went deep. Deeper than I’d ever seen him go, until he disappeared into a shroud of blue-green shadow. I counted. 45, 46, 47, he’s doing well this time, I thought. 84, 85, I started to worry. I called out to him in panic, knowing that it was futile. 106, 107, I dived into the water. It was much colder than I remembered. I put my head under the water, but the salt stung my eyes and all I could see was murky shapes and shadows. 205, 206, I clambered out of the water as fast as I could, scraping my knees against the rock. I ran out of the bay, around the cliff-face, across the old wooden bridge and down to the beach where Mum and Dad were lying, with tears streaming and knees bleeding all the while.
Mum and Dad were lying under a big yellow umbrella. Mum was sleeping and Dad was reading the paper. I sprinted up to Dad, accidentally kicking sand in his face as I came to an abrupt halt. I tried to tell him what happened but all the words came out at once in a big dyslexic jumble.
“Slow down and say it again, honey,” interjected Dad with a worried look, glancing at my knees.
“Rick. At the bay. Drowned. 206 seconds. Dead.” I managed to cough up.
“What are you talking about?” Asked Dad as he signaled over to the shore-line “Rick’s just over there.” I looked over to the beach, as I saw Rick’s figure emerging from the white-wash. I couldn’t believe my eyes. How did he get there?
He sprinted up to me, pointing his finger and laughing. “I told you I’d show you,” cackled Rick as he kicked sand at me.
“How’d you do that?” I asked in disbelief as I kicked sand back at him.
“Secret,” said Rick as he turned away and ran back into the surf.
There must be a magic tunnel I thought to myself as we headed back to the Villa. Rick must have escaped through a secret tunnel in the rock, and tomorrow I’m going to find it.
As soon as breakfast was over I grabbed my goggles and sprinted down to the bay. Put my clothes and towel on the rock and jumped into the water. My hair pulled and stung as I stretched the goggles over my head.
I tried to dive down but I floated straight back to the top again. I grabbed the sides of the ledge and tried to push myself down to the bottom, but it was covered in sea anemones and spikey urchins.
I climbed back onto the ledge and found a big rock. I took a deep breath and jumped feet-first into the water, holding the rock at my waist. I sank straight to the bottom and my feet landed on the soft, squelchy sand.
I could see everything with stunning clarity. A shoal of sparkling gray fish gliding just feet away. The top of the water tinkling overhead. A small red crab scuttling past my feet, chasing a tiny, light-blue minnow, oblivious to its surroundings.
I could have stayed down there for hours, but I had a job to do, and precious seconds of air left in my lungs. I scoured the base of the rock-face, looking for an entrance. Eventually I found it, tucked away in an obscure fold in the ledge, but I was out of air. I surfaced, took a deep breath, and re-submerged. I went straight for the opening, and put my head through.
It was dark and slimy, and a cold current was flowing out of the cave. I couldn’t see the other side and the light disappeared fast. I peered in further, musing over the thought of going through. If I didn’t go through, I’d regret it for a long time, but what if I went in and became stuck? What if there was an octopus or sea snake in there? What if I went in, and ran out of air?
I resurfaced and climbed up on top of the rock-ledge. The once foreboding, sharp ledge now seemed so comforting. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t go through the tunnel…
I went home that night, thinking about the tunnel, and for the next few weeks, it always featured in my dreams. And to this day, I still wonder what was on the other side.
I couldn’t let that happen to Jerry. I knew there was a risk, but he could swim like a fish. Much better than when I was his age. I had to let him try.
That night, at the villa, Jerry told me “I can stay under water for two minutes – three minutes, at least.”
“Can you, darling?” I said with a smile, knowing that he had made the journey that I didn’t .
“Well, I shouldn’t overdo it. I don’t think you ought to swim any more today.” And we went to bed that night, both with a sense of triumph and satisfaction.
Here's the question. "From the perspective of Jerry's mother [Stimulus text. Jerry's mother played a very small role in a journey Jerry went on discovering and going through a tunnel at the beach], compose a piece of writing which explores the predicament referred to in the text. It should contain some form of journey, may be based on the immediate situation in the texts, be drawn from their past experiences or look into the future. 1000 word limit."
I'd owe you bigtime if you could help me out.
Cheers, Jack.
“I’d like to have a look at those rocks down there,” blurted out Jerry. “Of course, darling, when you’ve had enough come back to the big beach,” I said as strolled across the rickety boards, worrying all the way. I knew exactly what he was up to. He was looking for the tunnel. The tunnel with all its inherent dangers. The tunnel I once knew so well…
“Bet you can’t do this,” called my 15 year old brother, Rick, as he leapt off the rock-ledge into the water and disappeared. I rolled my eyes as hundreds of tiny bubbles fizzed and sprang to the surface. He was going to pretend to drown, again. The trick may have worked on a 5 year old, but not on an 11 year old, like me. I counted, 1, 2, 3… 45, 45 and a half, 46.
“Yes!” gasped Rick as he burst out of the water and climbed up onto the rock. “A new personal best: 3 and a half minutes.”
“Liar!” I called as I pushed him back into the water with a crack as he broke the surface. “That was only 46 seconds and you know it.”
“Yeah?” said Rick defiantly, “Well watch this then, stupid.”
He went back under the water. He went deep. Deeper than I’d ever seen him go, until he disappeared into a shroud of blue-green shadow. I counted. 45, 46, 47, he’s doing well this time, I thought. 84, 85, I started to worry. I called out to him in panic, knowing that it was futile. 106, 107, I dived into the water. It was much colder than I remembered. I put my head under the water, but the salt stung my eyes and all I could see was murky shapes and shadows. 205, 206, I clambered out of the water as fast as I could, scraping my knees against the rock. I ran out of the bay, around the cliff-face, across the old wooden bridge and down to the beach where Mum and Dad were lying, with tears streaming and knees bleeding all the while.
Mum and Dad were lying under a big yellow umbrella. Mum was sleeping and Dad was reading the paper. I sprinted up to Dad, accidentally kicking sand in his face as I came to an abrupt halt. I tried to tell him what happened but all the words came out at once in a big dyslexic jumble.
“Slow down and say it again, honey,” interjected Dad with a worried look, glancing at my knees.
“Rick. At the bay. Drowned. 206 seconds. Dead.” I managed to cough up.
“What are you talking about?” Asked Dad as he signaled over to the shore-line “Rick’s just over there.” I looked over to the beach, as I saw Rick’s figure emerging from the white-wash. I couldn’t believe my eyes. How did he get there?
He sprinted up to me, pointing his finger and laughing. “I told you I’d show you,” cackled Rick as he kicked sand at me.
“How’d you do that?” I asked in disbelief as I kicked sand back at him.
“Secret,” said Rick as he turned away and ran back into the surf.
There must be a magic tunnel I thought to myself as we headed back to the Villa. Rick must have escaped through a secret tunnel in the rock, and tomorrow I’m going to find it.
As soon as breakfast was over I grabbed my goggles and sprinted down to the bay. Put my clothes and towel on the rock and jumped into the water. My hair pulled and stung as I stretched the goggles over my head.
I tried to dive down but I floated straight back to the top again. I grabbed the sides of the ledge and tried to push myself down to the bottom, but it was covered in sea anemones and spikey urchins.
I climbed back onto the ledge and found a big rock. I took a deep breath and jumped feet-first into the water, holding the rock at my waist. I sank straight to the bottom and my feet landed on the soft, squelchy sand.
I could see everything with stunning clarity. A shoal of sparkling gray fish gliding just feet away. The top of the water tinkling overhead. A small red crab scuttling past my feet, chasing a tiny, light-blue minnow, oblivious to its surroundings.
I could have stayed down there for hours, but I had a job to do, and precious seconds of air left in my lungs. I scoured the base of the rock-face, looking for an entrance. Eventually I found it, tucked away in an obscure fold in the ledge, but I was out of air. I surfaced, took a deep breath, and re-submerged. I went straight for the opening, and put my head through.
It was dark and slimy, and a cold current was flowing out of the cave. I couldn’t see the other side and the light disappeared fast. I peered in further, musing over the thought of going through. If I didn’t go through, I’d regret it for a long time, but what if I went in and became stuck? What if there was an octopus or sea snake in there? What if I went in, and ran out of air?
I resurfaced and climbed up on top of the rock-ledge. The once foreboding, sharp ledge now seemed so comforting. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t go through the tunnel…
I went home that night, thinking about the tunnel, and for the next few weeks, it always featured in my dreams. And to this day, I still wonder what was on the other side.
I couldn’t let that happen to Jerry. I knew there was a risk, but he could swim like a fish. Much better than when I was his age. I had to let him try.
That night, at the villa, Jerry told me “I can stay under water for two minutes – three minutes, at least.”
“Can you, darling?” I said with a smile, knowing that he had made the journey that I didn’t .
“Well, I shouldn’t overdo it. I don’t think you ought to swim any more today.” And we went to bed that night, both with a sense of triumph and satisfaction.
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