masterwordsmith-unplugged

I have been very busy with marking college exam papers and have not been able to keep up with the news. I will be blogging later in the evening though. In the mean time, my friend's son just came to my house and showed me this essay which I thought was a brilliant piece of work for his AS practice for the A levels but the poor boy came to my house very upset because his teacher gave him a D which is a Band 4 for the exam. For Band 4, it means the student has made many technical errors, confusion of tenses, wrong subject-verb agreement, frequent spelling errors and absent punctuation apart from other problems. Judge for yourself if he did make such errors. (The teacher is a native speaker.) I just told him to continue to try his best because I believe in him and that he is a good writer. Here goes...

Write a short story called The Curse. In your writing create a sense of mystery and suspense.

At night, the harbour was always misty. The chill in physical form always drifted by you, sending shivers down the spine. Silhouettes of various boats, tankers and cruisers lying idly by the dockside could be seen through the dense fog. One couldn’t see their reflections in the black waters lapping the dock supports, only emptiness.

The air was silent and bone-chilling cold. Usually it was peaceful at night, full of people, mainly fishermen, enjoying the night sea breeze before heading home. But tonight, there was tension in the air. And there weren’t many people. Just one. He stood there on the docks, restlessly looking over the waters for a sign of his destiny.

Suddenly, it came. A bright light broke through the shroud of the fog, like opening the gates of heaven itself. The man’s eyes widened slightly. His breath quickened and his whole frame was shaking, not from the cold. However, he still held his ground. Right up until the lights got bigger and bigger. The foghorn got louder and louder. It engulfed him, and a shrill scream rose up into the frigid night air.

Six hours earlier...

Coming home from school, sixteen – year - old Marcus Damon came through the door like a tornado. Energetic and full of vigour, Marcus had just got back from a soccer match, where he was awarded the Most Valuable Player title. This came to no surprise as Marcus is the top athlete for Gekkoukan High School. With the top clubs clamouring for his signature , Marcus couldn’t wait any longer for his time in the sun.

However, there was a downside to his fame. Arrogance fuelled every step he took and his headstrong manner made him more enemies than friends. One of them was his own little sister, Tilly Damon. At thirteen, she was a freshman at Gekkoukan and lived under the cloud of her brother. Everybody, from classmates to the principal, expected her to be a great sportswoman like her brother.

Much to their surprise, she was cut from a whole different cloth. She was a musician, playing instruments ranging from the triangle to the tuba, and played them well. And what a singer! An angel in full tilt couldn’t have done better. Recording companies were looking for her signature and there was a bright future in the Japanese music industry

Both siblings were always at odds with each other. With their parents deceased, Marcus acted as the guardian. Thus, Marcus always placed his priorities ahead of Tilly’s. He knew of his sister’s amazing musical talent, but he was more concerned over his own sports career. More than once, he left his sister standing in the cold at her concerts, always exploring a new advertisement position or club contract.

That was the very reason why Marcus was home from school early today. Tilly finally had the star role in the school choir. She had very much wanted Marcus to see it. Although he had grudgingly promised to attend, it all changed. Marcus had received a text from his agent, and he was excited.

“Marcus, had an offer from Europe. Finally matched your evaluation, hundred thousand pounds a week, need to talk to you about this when you get back”.

Marcus knew he just couldn’t pass up an opportunity like this.

That was why he was home, and not at the concert.

He threw his bag on the kitchen counter and went upstairs to take a bath. To pass the time while waiting for his agent, he plopped himself in front of the TV. Time passed by. Somehow, Marcus had fallen asleep on the couch. When he woke up, he moaned groggily and tried to look at his watch. However, in the dark, he could pretty much guess it was night time.

Suddenly, he was blinded by a bright light. It was like a spear gouged in his retinas. Grunting in mild pain, he squinted to see a slight form at the light switch. It took several moments for his vision to clear. Once it was, he could clearly see the form and breathed out a sigh of relief. It was only Tilly.

Slightly built, with a cute baby face, her flaming red hair tied into a ponytail, she was usually quiet and never bothered Marcus. But tonight, her face was all red and she was trembling violently, looking like a volcano that just exploded. Her wild red hair, usually neat, accentuated this image. Marcus couldn’t help but start laughing. Loud.

Tilly suddenly snapped at the sound of that laughter, shouting, “What are you laughing about!”

“O-o-oh sis,” Marcus stuttered, unable to control himself, “Y-y-o-u should see yourself! All red and wild!” ending in another fit of giggles.

“Ah sis, I know what this is about,” he said, grinning, “I missed your play again, didn’t I?”

“You fool! How could you?! After I begged to tears!" Tilly said, unable to control her own flow of tears.

“My agent called, saying about some advertisement stuff I needed to do,” Marcus shrugged, thinking the argument winding down, turned back to the TV.

“Where is your ‘agent’?” Tilly said in a menacing low voice.

“Didn’t show!” Marcus retorted back.

Finally, the volcano.

Tilly hurled so many expletive descriptions at Marcus’s way that even he wondered where she learned so many words. However, the most important ones were these cursed words, “I hope an oil tanker runs over you!”. Which from here, tired of his sister’s insults, Marcus headed out of the door and walked towards the pier, and the black waters…

Written by I.K.

Please leave a comment to share your responses. I.K. would definitely appreciate your input.