Creative writing Term 3

Term 3 

Creative Writing 

The beginning
 As I stomped and strutted along the cramped up streets of London, the loud and irritating sound of kids playing soar throughout the wind. The mourning of families as loved ones pass on from the deadly illnesses brings discomfort to my ear. The familiar sounds of pitter and pattering from old leaking pipes form small puddles that splash to the ground. I blink as if everything is in slow motion and I could feel my heart beating faster and my head starting to pound harder. I angrily say to myself “I must get out of here!”

 I stand assertively looking for a place to go. My family sent me out job hunting so we can hussle enough money together in order to pay weekly fees. My family and I struggle extremely. Ever since my dad fell ill money's been more of an issue than ever. Mum’s constantly working late while also trying to raise my siblings Jonathan age 9 and Henry age 3. I take care of my father most of the time, and I do everything I can to help provide enough medicine for our father and I’d often start preparing meals for my family.

 After standing on the streets with a face full of aggression I slowly look down and below my feet is the daily newspaper. At the top of my shoe something caught my attention It was advertising job opportunities/New life but the only problem was it was set out in another country and the boat leaves tomorrow at dawn.

 I barge into the front door shouting “Mother come quick!” my loud shout caused her to jump. “I have a way we can make more money but you’ll have to be open to the idea” I suggested “Alright, what is it?” she responded” Before I began to answer her question I quickly pulled out the newspaper from behind my back “Please be open to the idea mother. You’ll have to decide now before it’s too late.” I replied. My mother looked at the newspaper and stared at me for the slightest second. I didn’t know what she was thinking, but by look on her face I knew what she was going to say… “Pack your things right now, and you will be out before the boat set sails.” she said happily. She explained how she was so happy that an opportunity had come along but also felt responsible for myself having to be shipped out in order to support the family.

 Later the next day
 I found it very difficult saying my goodbyes to my family. My mother cried as if I had died. A couple days past and my hunger grew largely, I could feel the aching rumbles of my stomach. Having to live in the steerage part of the boat was one of the worse things that could ever happen to me, yet I was so grateful for another chance. At night when I laid sound asleep the water would smash against the side of my bed drowning my belongings. I could feel my hand being dipped into the water as it hand hung from the side of the bed.

 Months later
 I began to regret boarding this boat. Many illness grew and I watched as people died right before my eyes. The most painful thing about watching them die was knowing that they came boarding this boat for another chance at life, but were not fortunate enough to make it. I bonded with many people on the boat, discovering things we had in common and being able to relate to others was one of the perks being on that boat. I found great interest in their lives.

 Arriving
As I heard the horn of the boat my ears perked at the sound. I quickly run to the front of the boat and the land I see amazed and paralyzed my position for a moment. There were trees, grass, bushes, flowers. I didn’t believe what I was seeing, so I clenched my fist and gripped tightly to the thought of a new life!