Year 8 English Work

So, my Year 8 class were doing creative writing based on the novel Skellig.  They had just read the part where Michael had found the man in the garage for the first time and they had to write about the second time he went in the garage. It had to be written in first person perspective as if they were Michael and write using their senses; lesson objective was about description!
Well you know me... I had to have a go too :)

~~~~~~~

 

I pushed aside the broken door and stepped inside.  The creak from the rusty old hinge echoed through the garage making it sound as spooky as it looked.  Cobwebs hung from the ceiling just like I remembered from last time and had accumulated years worth of dust they had been here that long.  I didn't like to imagine the size of the spiders that must call these fly traps their home.  Dead flies littered every surface possible, all covered in dust too.  On second thoughts maybe all the spiders had died years ago... Everything looked so undisturbed.  It was clear that I was the first person to dare to venture inside for a very long time. 

 

As I crept around the old furniture that was piled up hazardously in every available space I froze in my tracks.  I'd really hoped that it had been a trick of the light last time.  Peering carefully into the semi darkness I concentrated hard on the dark shadow propped up by the ornate wardrobe with the cracked and dirty mirror on one door.  Tiptoeing closer I squinted at it; it definitely looked like a man, but surely I was mistaken.  It appeared not to be breathing, but as I took the final step closer and bent down I heard the faint rattle as it took a breath.  He was alive! 

 

I fell backwards and landed with a bump on the dirty floor.  A cloud of dust rose around me making me cough, and as I shattered the deathly silence around me the man groaned and moved his head a little.  I sat in the dust and looked closely at him.  His face was chalky pale and dry, with large black bags under his eyes.  I'd never really understood that saying before but now I saw it clearly; the skin hung loosely and wrinkled at the corners of his eyes and the colour was a dark tinted purple.  His pale lips which were cracked and looked very painful were the only source of colour on his face and a thick layer of dust hid the inky black hair that surrounded his face, making him look gloomy. 

 

Shifting my position so that the tiny stream of daylight filtering through the broken window fell on his clothes.  I expected him to be wearing tatty old clothes, as if maybe was a homeless person who'd crawled in here and got stuck.  However I was incredibly surprised to see a dark suit clothing his frail body.  Granted it was very scruffy and torn in many places like he had been fighting and his shoes opened at the ends as if he'd been wearing them since he was my age, revealing his dirty toes. 

 

He began to turn his head towards me and his bones cracked like a skeleton.  I panicked, scrambling backwards in the filth, making the dust swirl around me again.  I bumped into a cupboard and got to my feet, escaping the garage as fast as physically possible.



Surely that hadn't just happened.  I rubbed my eyes, I had only imagined it!  Hadn't I?!