GSCE English Language: Grade 9 Story Example
LikeHere is a Grade 9 Story Example for GCSE English Language:
(This was for my November mocks btw)
Diego had just finished arguably the hardest part of his day; his son always seemed to have the energy of a cheetah right when it was time for him to sleep. Exhausted, he walked to his room and collapsed down onto his old, worn-down chair in front of the window. However, he was not expecting to see the scene in front of him. Usually, he would sit down at the end of the day and gaze at the tranquil Brazilian coast, watching the aquamarine waves ebb away from the crystal sand, taking on the reflection of the fluorescent moon, shining down like a gleaming silver plate. Instead, he saw a colossal ship, which seemed to almost obscure his view of the horizon. Through compartments across the side, protruded cannons, the holes seeming an endless abyss of darkness. The crew all wielded cutlasses which shimmered in the moonlight. Diego had no idea what they were here for, however, it couldn’t be good. Just as he was about to go away and hope that they meant no harm, a single cutlass was pointed directly at his window, crew members gathering around to look. It felt as if the sword had pierced Diego in the chest, thoughts flashed through his head like bolts of lightning. But then, he took a moment to look back, he remembered his son, after the death of his wife, his son was the only thing Diego had left. His heart pounded through his chest like a knell. Slowly, he stumbled out of his chair and rested his palm on the door, he felt sick. Feeling dizzy, fear was accumulating in Diego’s chest but with his son’s safety in question, Diego took a deep breath and gathered the courage to walk out.
Trudging along slowly, Diego couldn’t look up, fear held his gaze frozen downwards. Murmurs of laughter emerged among the crowd, slowly becoming less and less subtle. “The lad walked towards his own death!”, one of them exclaimed. “First time I’ve ever seen someone volunteer to die”, mused another. “Stop… He’ll be useful”, said a man within the crowd, and judging by the immediate silence, albeit looks of contempt and distaste towards him, he was clearly the captain. “And how exactly would that be the case”, a voice from the back of the crowd which carried significant authority said. Walking towards Diego, Diego couldn’t help but notice his hands were tied with rope, but that wasn’t right, he looked the same as all of them, he couldn’t be a slave. A purple, agitated scar sprawled across the right side of his face. This time there was no contempt among the crowd, they seemed to agree with his sentiment. “I used to navigate these shores for the Portuguese”. Diego had been taken aback by his own response, the words seemed to force their way out of his mouth. That fact was definitely not true, his late father had once been forced to be a navigator for a Portuguese ship and all Diego knew about the shores of South America were from the distant memories of his father’s stories. Not without murmurs of crew members talking about how his head would have been a spectacular ornament for the ship - Diego was eventually escorted onto the gigantic vessel. Much to his pleasure, Diego was not tasked with helping the crew navigate the seas that night, it seemed the sailors knew these waters and did not need Diego’s advice for navigation yet, buying him much needed time; although, lying in his hammock at night, he couldn’t shake off the thought that this time was borrowed.
Waking up to a cacophony of clamorous footsteps, Diego smelt smoke and the air had a distinct burning taste. Worried the ship had caught on fire, he jogged upstairs, but what he saw was much, much worse. As far as he could see, violent fires engulfed the ramshackle wooden and thatch huts on the shore, he saw crew members looting every last drop of whether it be gold or food. The civilians were resisting bravely even with their weathered, wooden bows and spears, nevertheless they were each being rounded up one by one, their hands being tied up with rope. Worst of all, he saw a kid, about the same age as his son, trying to run away from the pirates, the captain chasing behind him with a sword. Fearing for the child's safety, adrenaline took over Diego and he sprinted off the gangplank and charged towards the captain, leaping onto him like a ravenous leopard. Barrages of punches were exchanged between both of them before their brawl came to an abrupt halt, realising they were completely surrounded by the swords of their crew members. The man with the scar etched onto his face emerged giggling like a child, meandering towards the two while trailing his blade across the sand. “Francis, old friend, how things have changed”, he giggled, “I’m sure the next tribe we come across would love to keep you as their guest, now… you…”, fixating his eyes upon Diego, “I would execute you right here, you’ve shown you’re about as trustworthy as the weather… Unfortunately we do need a navigator if I am to return to England as a hero, circumnavigating the globe and being knighted, along with my crew”. A wave of homesickness washed over Diego, the realisation that he truly had no idea how long it would take to see his son again seemed to audibly resonate through his skull, he had never even fished more than 100 metres off the coast and now he was being asked to sail across almost the entire world. Laying his head back on the floor, he hoped it was all a dream, that he had fallen asleep on that chair behind the window, and that he would wake up safe and sound in his own home. He didn’t.
Why I think it got grade 9:
Building up tension: I tried not to rush to stuff happening and tried to describe emotions and thoughts first.
Language devices: While I think focusing only on putting in language devices ruins your story, you should keep an eye out for opportunities to use them.
