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Model composition for primary 6: Rescue

Here is a model composition suitable for Primary 5 & 6 - "Rescue." Below you will find an essay (DRAFT 2) written by one of our students. Our students go through multiple drafts. What you will find in this blogpost is the improved final draft of the composition. Model composition: Rescue (example)



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English Composition Creative Writing Classes at Yishun for Primary 1 2 3 4 5
English Composition Creative Writing Classes at Yishun for Primary 1 2 3 4 5







Model composition: Rescue

Student: Joy Yap, P6 (Improved version)

Pictures used: Broken bottle





Model composition for primary 6: Rescue

Model composition for primary 6: Rescue

The heavy thudding of footsteps on the street below my apartment jolted me awake. Scrambling to the window, I could see dimly a figure stumbling drunkenly towards the apartment, a beer bottle in hand. That could only mean one thing.

My father was home.

Hurriedly, I ran to my mother’s room and shook her awake. As she was sitting up groggily in bed, I heard our front door open, and a strong smell of alcohol filled the apartment. Immediately, my mother stiffened, her eyes wide with fear.

My father lumbered into the room, still reeking of alcohol and swinging the bottle. He staggered to the bed, where Mother and I were huddling together, and slurred, “Got any money?” We both shook our heads as we shrank away from this monster.

He cursed loudly before slapping my mother deliberately and cruelly. She reeled from the impact, clutching her head in pain. I felt ripples of anger flood through me as I watched my father ransack the room for valuables he could sell to get money for beer and his gambling habits. Haven't we suffered enough? I thought bitterly. Suddenly, I heard my mother gasp. She was gazing at the object clutched in my father’s hand.

“No… no… That was my mother’s….”, She whispered, her face ashen.

A locket was dangling from my father’s fist. I could see that there was a picture of my late grandmother in it.

“Shameless person,” he roared, “didn’t tell me there was something valuable in our house, eh? Well, here’s what I think of you!” He snatched the picture from the locket and ripped it to shreds before dealing a heavy blow to my mother. She simply continued to sob. Staring at my mother's sobbing form, I felt a boiling pit of fury rise in my stomach. Red rimmed my vision, and before I knew it, I had shouted out, “Why can't you leave her stuff alone? Haven't you tortured us enough?”

My father’s mouth dropped open. Even my mother stopped sobbing. My father’s face turned bright red, and grabbing my collar, he thundered, “How dare you!”

 

Stinging slaps rained down on my body as my father shouted vulgarities at me. I cowered in the corner of the bed, whimpering in pain.

Then, my father stopped slapping me. He straightened up, released his grip on my collar, walked over to the table, and picked up the bottle where he had left it.

With one swift movement, he struck the bottle against the table, causing the base of the bottle to shatter and fall off, leaving the edge jagged and extremely sharp.

Smiling in a nasty way, he advanced towards me, brandishing the broken bottle menacingly. The jagged edges glinted in the dim lamp light as he crossed the room. Pressing my back into the hard wood, I shut my eyes as he swung his arm and brought the bottle down towards me. I braced for the sharp glass to shred my skin, but it never came.

When I opened my eyes, my mother was in front of me, blocking me from my father. She was clutching her right arm, crimson liquid seeping through her fingers. I could even see fragments of glass stuck into her arm. She had rescued me.

“Go.” She said coldly to my father, “Go and leave us alone, or I’ll call the police!” I had never heard my mother say that before.

My father stared incredulously at my mother before striding out of the apartment. We saw him leave our block and cross the street before disappearing into an alley.

My mother pushed me towards the door of the apartment. “Hurry up.” She said firmly, “We have to leave this apartment and go to the police as soon as possible.”

It was still dark as we exited our block and stepped into the street. I started down the dark streets, hoping that my life would change and become better.



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