Grade my English essay?

KirkCheated09

2001 english P1 – Personal writing.
Topic ‘’a catastrophe’’
Title: ‘’And so that was me’’

‘’The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can’t see at all, even if I could grey’’ Those are the words that sprung to mind on a rainy August day, as I was going through my morning routine, shaving off this beard that’s starting to look a bit too long for my liking, like a neglected back yard, like any other day, but this wasn’t any other day, this was the day.

No, it wasn’t the ‘D-Day’ of WW2, it was the day I left home, the day I left Ireland, for who knows how long, perhaps forever.

I looked in the mirror and a thousand images flashed before my eyes as if I was about to die. I guess it kind of makes sense, the day I’m leaving Ireland and my family for perhaps forever is close to ‘the end’. The pictures I saw made me smile, there were no bad ones. I saw my mother fussing over Christmas dinner, in her rushing attitude as always, I saw my dad cheering me on at one of my soccer matches, even though he didn’t like soccer – at all, I saw my brother teaching me how to take a penalty ‘the right way’ as he said. I was never really close to my brother, we were very different people after all so it makes sense, he was always the outgoing popular one and I was always the keeping-to-myself one. If I could go back, do it all again, I think I would try to be more outgoing and live life to my brothers perspective which was ‘You’ll regret the things you didn’t do more than the things you did do, when you’re about to die’ .. how true that was. It’s a reality now, I’m dying, god, that feels weird to even think, and I regret all the things I never did. For instance I never went skydiving, for fear a failing parachute would result in death, thinking now, it doesn’t seem a bad way to go.

I’ve always like being by myself I am on the few people I can tolerate for prolonged periods, so why not be by myself? Despite that logic, my mother still found it strange to want to travel the world by myself.

I’ve always wanted to travel the world, see everything this glorious sphere has to offer. However I always thought my reasons for doing so would be different. I thought I would be CEO of my own company and finally had the money and deserved a break. Or that I would win the lottery, that one of my countless purchased scratch cards would make up for all the ones that didn’t pay off. But no, instead I am travelling the world with the help of the ‘make a wish’ foundation and its generous donators.

Who knew a tumour was worth so much? I certainly didn’t. Although some people think my case is different, worse, than others. As I am not an eighty-six year old man who finally found out what would take him, after years of wondering. No, I am a twenty-three year old boy just out of college with a degree in computer science and a whole world of opportunity awaiting him. Or at least there was a whole world of opportunity awaiting me, sadly, not anymore.

On July 17th 2001 I was told by my GP, the same guy who prescribed me medicine for a flu, the same guy who told me ‘’those tonsils will have to go’’, told me I had a tumour the size of a golf ball on my spine. He gave me an optimistic five months to live. I knew a boy who had a tumour on his spine once, it wasn’t cancerous and he got it removed. Not me though, mine was cancerous and un-removable due to its position, an attempt at it could leave me permanently paralyzed at best. So with my optimistic five months I spent the first of which awkwardly responding to relatives whom I have only seen once at my grand-mothers funeral when I was eight, to things like ‘’you’re so brave’’ and ‘’don’t worry, Jesus has a special place in heaven just for you’’.

The next two weeks were spent collecting money so I could live my last few months in harmony.

I went to drop my dog, Patrick, to my Mother’s house, not my parent’s house, my mother’s house. My father died when I was nineteen, since then my mom hasn’t been the same , she fusses over me and my brother too much now, I was afraid how she would react to the news when I first found out I had cancer, I didn’t think she could handle another person she loved prematurely dying. She took it better than I thought, but she’s been in the garden a lot lately, gardening away the pain I guessed. I felt sorry for her, as I think I can deal with this whole thing, but I’m not sure that she can. She has my brother though, he still lives at home. After my Dad died he moved back in with my mom, I thought it was noble of him seeing as he was young and on a good salary he could be anywhere, but he wants to be with her. I wish I could be like that. I jumped at the chance to get out of that house, too many memories of dad and of my mother crying herself to sleep. Patrick didn’t like this house, there wasn’t a big enough garden for his liking. I only got Patrick to have someone to come home to, but he was more than that now, he was the one who cheered me up when I broke up with my girlfriend, he was the one who warned me when I was in danger, or at least his idea of danger, which was very different to mine. Unlike Patrick I didn’t find a cat on my window sill life threatening.

And so here I am, on my way to Dublin International airport for flight 237E from Dublin to Paris. To taste croissants, to see the sights and try not to think about the inevitable.

I saw the Mona Lisa, I posed for a picture under the arc de triumph and I even paid €7.46 for a bottle of coke on top of the Eifel tower. ..And so that was France.

I am now sitting on a plane, waiting for free airspace so I can fly to Barcelona after our original flight time was delayed due to a woman having a stroke.

Barcelona easily bested France. I sun bathed on a beach, I saw Barcelona lose 4-1 to rivals real Madrid at the Nou camp and I had dinner with a lovely Spanish girl named Sophie, she had long brown hair that seemed so perfect, I didn’t tell her about my cancer, if I did I probably would’ve gotten a sympathy kiss, even though it wasn’t a date, rather two people both with nothing to do for the night. Usually when I had nothing to do for a night, I would rent a movie and watch it alone, but I’m trying to be more outgoing, and I think it’s working. I mean I walked up to a girl on a beach who was having trouble putting sun cream on her back and helped her, talked a little and asked her to dinner. ..And so that was Spain.

Now I’m in an airport shop, buying a pen and a cross word book in the hope it will distract me on my flight from Barcelona to Toronto.

Canada was nice, not great, not bad, nice. I saw the Vancouver canucks play, I saw niagra falls and I even took place in a horse race after a one day crash course in horse riding, I placed fifth. It was a charity thing and nobody else had experience in horse riding either but we seemed too all have fun. …And so that was Canada.

Now I’m in the air, drinking some scotch on a flight from Toronto to New York, It’s funny, before this whole thing I never drank alcohol, now I have a scotch at least once a day.

I picked up the paper ‘the New York times’ September 10th 2001’s edition, a woman was on the front page for saving a baby from drowning. By now I assumed I would be at a desk, writing lines of code. It’s funny how life can throw you a curve-ball.

I woke up early, 7-39 to be exact on September 11th, 2001. I got a cup of ‘Joe’ as the Americans called it and a famous New York bagel. By now I had gotten used to eating alone in restaurants, I usually tried to get a window seat and observe the world as I ate. Today was no different.

I heard a high pitched scream, I couldn’t make out what the woman was saying, however, but then a man, with a deeper voice, said ‘’it’s going to crash’’ whilst pointing upwards. I couldn’t see the sky from where I was sitting, I could only see tall building, skyscrapers. I stepped outside and looked at another skyscraper, the world trade centre to be exact and I saw the plane. I thought to myself ‘’if I can place fifth in a horse race after only a day’s training, surely an experienced pilot can avoid hitting a building’’ and suddenly I realised, it was no accident. Then occurred my last half-smile on earth, right before being buried under falling rubble and right after figuring out the plane was hijacked.

The end wasn’t like how I imagined it, it certainly was a different circumstance though. I saw a thousand pictures flash before my eyes again, like that day I left Ireland, the day I said goodbye to my mother for the last time, I wondered how she would find out about me, a police man at the door, she couldn’t go through that again. She had to identify my father, after his car crashed into a pole, he was broke up badly, just seeing him like that was enough for my mother to start drinking again. I saw my first girlfriend, my first A on a test, my first goal, my first bike, my first apartment and the last time I saw my mother’s face.
…And so that was me.

IrishLoriii

Be careful incase anyone trys to copy this and write
it in there exams!

paddyzk

IrishLoriii wrote: »

Be careful incase anyone trys to copy this and write
it in there exams!

Too late

xfabgalx

there's not really a problem copying it? I wouldn't anyway cos there could be mistakes so. .

KirkCheated09

IrishLoriii wrote: »

Be careful incase anyone trys to copy this and write
it in there exams!

I don't know if it's good enough to copy :P

paddyzk wrote: »

Too late

Sneeky sneeky Patrick! :P

Indiego

Awh thats so good :') :')
Sad though, in a way :L
But its soooo good

Dont see much point grading you however, cos you know Ill just be far too biased and just give you full marks :P

KirkCheated09

Indiego wrote: »

Awh thats so good :') :')
Sad though, in a way :L
But its soooo good

Dont see much point grading you however, cos you know Ill just be far too biased and just give you full marks :P

Haha thanks!

It was supposed to be sad, to get the reader to feel sorry for the man was the whole point, I thought it would engage the examiner better.

hahaha I wish you were the examiner then! :P

Indiego

KirkCheated09 wrote: »

Haha thanks!

It was supposed to be sad, to get the reader to feel sorry for the man was the whole point, I thought it would engage the examiner better.

hahaha I wish you were the examiner then! :P

Well yeah, but its sad, but kinda not sad in the same way, cos the guy dies before he has to suffer too much from the cancer :L
Bittersweet I suppose :P

Hahahahah :P

SChique00

It's certainly a unique take on the topic, David - all I would say to you is try and flesh out the character a little more - I couldn't really build up a mental image of the main character from the text, and it'd be nice if you could delve into how he felt about his grim future and condition - he seems a bit detached here. So just flesh it out a little more, bit more background on the character and what happened his mother, and watch your grammar/spelling etc. I enjoyed it overall, though, and would give it a 50/55 out of 70

KirkCheated09

Indiego wrote: »

Well yeah, but its sad, but kinda not sad in the same way, cos the guy dies before he has to suffer too much from the cancer :L
Bittersweet I suppose :P

Hahahahah :P

That was the idea

KirkCheated09

SChique00 wrote: »

It's certainly a unique take on the topic, David - all I would say to you is try and flesh out the character a little more - I couldn't really build up a mental image of the main character from the text, and it'd be nice if you could delve into how he felt about his grim future and condition - he seems a bit detached here. So just flesh it out a little more, bit more background on the character and what happened his mother, and watch your grammar/spelling etc. I enjoyed it overall, though, and would give it a 50/55 out of 70

Thanks I'll take that into consideration! Haha I think the detached issue comes from me.. :P

Thanks

SChique00

KirkCheated09 wrote: »

Thanks I'll take that into consideration! Haha I think the detached issue comes from me.. :P

Thanks

Cool beans - it's a great take on the topic, just needs a few tweaks and it'll be A-standard

paddyzk

SChique00 wrote: »

It's certainly a unique take on the topic, David - all I would say to you is try and flesh out the character a little more - I couldn't really build up a mental image of the main character from the text, and it'd be nice if you could delve into how he felt about his grim future and condition - he seems a bit detached here. So just flesh it out a little more, bit more background on the character and what happened his mother, and watch your grammar/spelling etc. I enjoyed it overall, though, and would give it a 50/55 out of 70

Blasphamy,he said he was drinking scotch,therefore full marks.

KirkCheated09

SChique00 wrote: »

Cool beans - it's a great take on the topic, just needs a few tweaks and it'll be A-standard

In progress atm!

KirkCheated09

paddyzk wrote: »

Blasphamy,he said he was drinking scotch,therefore full marks.

You like scotch? Naught patrick! :P

paddyzk

KirkCheated09 wrote: »

You like scotch? Naught patrick! :P

I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down, down into my belly.

Slow Show

I'm gonna be totally honest because there's no point in not being so. It could just be typos, but there's a fair few grammar/spelling mistakes scattered throughout the essay, and this really detracts from its readability, but your posts are usually fine so perhaps if you just pay a bit more attention to what you're writing it'll be fine.

Totally agree with Schique on the character thing - we don't really know a whole lot about the character other than that he's terminally ill. You really do need to flesh him out, give him a voice, talk about his feelings a bit more. A bit more description in general couldn't hurt also!

Regarding the ending, I did find it a little corny and overused - topics such as 9/11 (your ending was quite similar to at least one recent movie, in that the 9/11 attacks were thrown in at the end of a seemingly unrelated story) and WW2 which are very interesting to a lot of people are quite overused in essays - but it's the JC and tbh that kinda thing doesn't matter once you've got everything else right. And perhaps I've just read too much.

Everything else was fine, it was indeed an interesting take. You just need to be careful of spelling/grammar and try make it flow a little bit better. If I was to mark it, I'd probably give it a low B but I wouldn't be too sure of the overall standard and that's how it's marked against so it could be higher.

Sorry if I'm coming across as waaaay too critical and pernickety, just think it's best to be totally honest in these situations. And it's still quite good!

KirkCheated09

Slow Show wrote: »

I'm gonna be totally honest because there's no point in not being so. It could just be typos, but there's a fair few grammar/spelling mistakes scattered throughout the essay, and this really detracts from its readability, but your posts are usually fine so perhaps if you just pay a bit more attention to what you're writing it'll be fine.

Totally agree with Schique on the character thing - we don't really know a whole lot about the character other than that he's terminally ill. You really do need to flesh him out, give him a voice, talk about his feelings a bit more. A bit more description in general couldn't hurt also!

Regarding the ending, I did find it a little corny and overused - topics such as 9/11 (your ending was quite similar to at least one recent movie, in that the 9/11 attacks were thrown in at the end of a seemingly unrelated story) and WW2 which are very interesting to a lot of people are quite overused in essays - but it's the JC and tbh that kinda thing doesn't matter once you've got everything else right. And perhaps I've just read too much.

Everything else was fine, it was indeed an interesting take. You just need to be careful of spelling/grammar and try make it flow a little bit better. If I was to mark it, I'd probably give it a low B but I wouldn't be too sure of the overall standard and that's how it's marked against so it could be higher.

Sorry if I'm coming across as waaaay too critical and pernickety, just think it's best to be totally honest in these situations. And it's still quite good!

They're most likely typos..I usually have no mistakes like that in my work! ><
What was the film you mentioned?

Critical is what I'm looking for! ..Don't be sorry!.. I'm tweaking it to all of your suggestions atm!

Slow Show

KirkCheated09 wrote: »

They're most likely typos..I usually have no mistakes like that in my work! ><
What was the film you mentioned?

Critical is what I'm looking for! ..Don't be sorry!.. I'm tweaking it to all of your suggestions atm!

Ever heard of Remember Me? Don't worry if you haven't, it's not one to go on the bucket list.

And yeah I thought as much about the mistakes, just have a read back over and see if you can pick them out!

KirkCheated09

Slow Show wrote: »

Ever heard of Remember Me? Don't worry if you haven't, it's not one to go on the bucket list.

And yeah I thought as much about the mistakes, just have a read back over and see if you can pick them out!

Yeah, the one with Robert Pattison? I've seen that :P ..You mentioned the bucket list there, you ever seen that film? - It's great!

KirkCheated09

SlowShow and Sarah - Here's an edited edition. I think you get to know a little more about the character this way.


2001 english P1 – Personal writing.
Topic ‘’a catastrophe’’
Title: ‘’And so that was me’’

‘’The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can’t see at all, even if I could grey’’ Those are the words that sprung to mind on a rainy August day, as I was going through my morning routine, shaving off this beard that’s starting to look a bit too long for my liking, like a neglected back yard, like any other day, but this wasn’t any other day, this was the day.

No, it wasn’t the ‘D-Day’ of WW2, it was the day I left home, the day I left Ireland, for who knows how long, perhaps forever.

I looked in the mirror and a thousand images flashed before my eyes as if I was about to die. I guess it kind of makes sense, the day I’m leaving Ireland and my family for perhaps forever is close to ‘the end’. The pictures I saw made me smile, there were no bad ones. I saw my mother fussing over Christmas dinner, in her rushing attitude as always, I saw my dad cheering me on at one of my soccer matches, even though he didn’t like soccer – at all, I saw my brother teaching me how to take a penalty ‘the right way’ as he said. I was never really close to my brother, we were very different people after all so it makes sense, he was always the outgoing popular one and I was always the keeping-to-myself one. If I could go back, do it all again, I think I would try to be more outgoing and live life to my brothers perspective which was ‘You’ll regret the things you didn’t do more than the things you did do, when you’re about to die’ .. how true that was. It’s a reality now, I’m dying, god, that feels weird to even think, and I regret all the things I never did. For instance I never went skydiving, for fear a failing parachute would result in death, thinking now, it doesn’t seem a bad way to go.

I’ve always like being by myself I am on the few people I can tolerate for prolonged periods, so why not be by myself? Despite that logic, my mother still found it strange to want to travel the world by myself.

I’ve always wanted to travel the world, see everything this glorious sphere has to offer. However I always thought my reasons for doing so would be different. I thought I would be CEO of my own company and finally had the money and deserved a break. Or that I would win the lottery, that one of my countless purchased scratch cards would make up for all the ones that didn’t pay off. But no, instead I am travelling the world with the help of the ‘make a wish’ foundation and its generous donators.

Who knew a tumour was worth so much? I certainly didn’t. Although some people think my case is different, worse, than others. As I am not an eighty-six year old man who finally found out what would take him, after years of wondering. No, I am a twenty-three year old boy just out of college with a degree in computer science and a whole world of opportunity awaiting him. Or at least there was a whole world of opportunity awaiting me, sadly, not anymore.

On July 17th 2001 I was told by my GP, the same guy who prescribed me medicine for a flu, the same guy who told me ‘’those tonsils will have to go’’, told me I had a tumour the size of a golf ball on my spine. He gave me an optimistic five months to live. I knew a boy who had a tumour on his spine once, it wasn’t cancerous and he got it removed. Not me though, mine was cancerous and un-removable due to its position, an attempt at it could leave me permanently paralyzed at best. So with my optimistic five months I spent the first of which awkwardly responding to relatives whom I have only seen once at my grand-mothers funeral when I was eight, to things like ‘’you’re so brave’’ and ‘’don’t worry, Jesus has a special place in heaven just for you’’.

The next two weeks were spent collecting money so I could live my last few months in harmony.

I went to drop my dog, Patrick, to my Mother’s house, not my parent’s house, my mother’s house. My father died when I was nineteen, since then my mom hasn’t been the same , she fusses over me and my brother too much now, I was afraid how she would react to the news when I first found out I had cancer, I didn’t think she could handle another person she loved prematurely dying. She took it better than I thought, but she’s been in the garden a lot lately, gardening away the pain I guessed. I felt sorry for her, as I think I can deal with this whole thing, but I’m not sure that she can. She has my brother though, he still lives at home. After my Dad died he moved back in with my mom, I thought it was noble of him seeing as he was young and on a good salary he could be anywhere, but he wants to be with her. I wish I could be like that. I jumped at the chance to get out of that house, too many memories of dad and of my mother crying herself to sleep. Patrick didn’t like this house, there wasn’t a big enough garden for his liking. I only got Patrick to have someone to come home to, but he was more than that now, he was the one who cheered me up when I broke up with my girlfriend, he was the one who warned me when I was in danger, or at least his idea of danger, which was very different to mine. Unlike Patrick I didn’t find a cat on my window sill life threatening.

And so here I am, on my way to Dublin International airport for flight 237E from Dublin to Paris. To taste croissants, to see the sights and try not to think about the inevitable.

I saw the Mona Lisa, I posed for a picture under the arc de triumph and I even paid €7.46 for a bottle of coke on top of the Eifel tower. ..And so that was France.

I am now sitting on a plane, waiting for free airspace so I can fly to Barcelona after our original flight time was delayed due to a woman having a stroke.

Barcelona easily bested France. I sun bathed on a beach, I saw Barcelona lose 4-1 to rivals real Madrid at the Nou camp and I had dinner with a lovely Spanish girl named Sophie, she had long brown hair that seemed so perfect, I didn’t tell her about my cancer, if I did I probably would’ve gotten a sympathy kiss, even though it wasn’t a date, rather two people both with nothing to do for the night. Usually when I had nothing to do for a night, I would rent a movie and watch it alone, but I’m trying to be more outgoing, and I think it’s working. I mean I walked up to a girl on a beach who was having trouble putting sun cream on her back and helped her, talked a little and asked her to dinner. ..And so that was Spain.

Now I’m in an airport shop, buying a pen and a cross word book in the hope it will distract me on my flight from Barcelona to Toronto.

Canada was nice, not great, not bad, nice. I saw the Vancouver canucks play, I saw niagra falls and I even took place in a horse race after a one day crash course in horse riding, I placed fifth. It was a charity thing and nobody else had experience in horse riding either but we seemed too all have fun. …And so that was Canada.

Now I’m in the air, drinking some scotch on a flight from Toronto to New York, It’s funny, before this whole thing I never drank alcohol, now I have a scotch at least once a day.

I picked up the paper ‘the New York times’ September 10th 2001’s edition, a woman was on the front page for saving a baby from drowning. By now I assumed I would be at a desk, writing lines of code. It’s funny how life can throw you a curve-ball.

I woke up early, 7-39 to be exact on September 11th, 2001. I got a cup of ‘Joe’ as the Americans called it and a famous New York bagel. By now I had gotten used to eating alone in restaurants, I usually tried to get a window seat and observe the world as I ate. Today was no different.

I heard a high pitched scream, I couldn’t make out what the woman was saying, however, but then a man, with a deeper voice, said ‘’it’s going to crash’’ whilst pointing upwards. I couldn’t see the sky from where I was sitting, I could only see tall building, skyscrapers. I stepped outside and looked at another skyscraper, the world trade centre to be exact and I saw the plane. I thought to myself ‘’if I can place fifth in a horse race after only a day’s training, surely an experienced pilot can avoid hitting a building’’ and suddenly I realised, it was no accident. Then occurred my last half-smile on earth, right before being buried under falling rubble and right after figuring out the plane was hijacked.

The end wasn’t like how I imagined it, it certainly was a different circumstance though. I saw a thousand pictures flash before my eyes again, like that day I left Ireland, the day I said goodbye to my mother for the last time, I wondered how she would find out about me, a police man at the door, she couldn’t go through that again. She had to identify my father, after his car crashed into a pole, he was broke up badly, just seeing him like that was enough for my mother to start drinking again. I saw my first girlfriend, my first A on a test, my first goal, my first bike, my first apartment and the last time I saw my mother’s face.
…And so that was me.

Junokevv

Thats actually really good and unique!:)

I do think that you could have been a little more descriptive though and watch out for some small errors, like you wrote ''world trade centre'' as opposed to ''World Trade Centre''.

Overall, you're probably on the border of an A and a B and I'm sure the examiner would like it because it's something different!

Leinsterr

I assume that this is a short story. Honestly I think It's quality but it doesnt have d 5 criteria of the short story: 1 it must be about the loneliness of the human individual. 2 it must b about an ordinary person 3 the character must regress or grow by the end. 4 it must b about one moment in time and I forget the 5th. Its really creative. Probably between 47-55 depending on which examiner. You hav to bridge your paragraphs. U wont get a B if u dont bridge. Good man all the same

iliketwixbars

KirkCheated09 wrote: »

SlowShow and Sarah - Here's an edited edition. I think you get to know a little more about the character this way.


2001 english P1 – Personal writing.
Topic ‘’a catastrophe’’
Title: ‘’And so that was me’’

‘’The morning rain clouds up my window, and I can’t see at all, even if I could grey’’ Those are the words that sprung to mind on a rainy August day, as I was going through my morning routine, shaving off this beard that’s starting to look a bit too long for my liking, like a neglected back yard, like any other day, but this wasn’t any other day, this was the day.

No, it wasn’t the ‘D-Day’ of WW2, it was the day I left home, the day I left Ireland, for who knows how long, perhaps forever.

I looked in the mirror and a thousand images flashed before my eyes as if I was about to die. I guess it kind of makes sense, the day I’m leaving Ireland and my family for perhaps forever is close to ‘the end’. The pictures I saw made me smile, there were no bad ones. I saw my mother fussing over Christmas dinner, in her rushing attitude as always, I saw my dad cheering me on at one of my soccer matches, even though he didn’t like soccer – at all, I saw my brother teaching me how to take a penalty ‘the right way’ as he said. I was never really close to my brother, we were very different people after all so it makes sense, he was always the outgoing popular one and I was always the keeping-to-myself one. If I could go back, do it all again, I think I would try to be more outgoing and live life to my brothers perspective which was ‘You’ll regret the things you didn’t do more than the things you did do, when you’re about to die’ .. how true that was. It’s a reality now, I’m dying, god, that feels weird to even think, and I regret all the things I never did. For instance I never went skydiving, for fear a failing parachute would result in death, thinking now, it doesn’t seem a bad way to go.

I’ve always like being by myself I am on the few people I can tolerate for prolonged periods, so why not be by myself? Despite that logic, my mother still found it strange to want to travel the world by myself.

I’ve always wanted to travel the world, see everything this glorious sphere has to offer. However I always thought my reasons for doing so would be different. I thought I would be CEO of my own company and finally had the money and deserved a break. Or that I would win the lottery, that one of my countless purchased scratch cards would make up for all the ones that didn’t pay off. But no, instead I am travelling the world with the help of the ‘make a wish’ foundation and its generous donators.

Who knew a tumour was worth so much? I certainly didn’t. Although some people think my case is different, worse, than others. As I am not an eighty-six year old man who finally found out what would take him, after years of wondering. No, I am a twenty-three year old boy just out of college with a degree in computer science and a whole world of opportunity awaiting him. Or at least there was a whole world of opportunity awaiting me, sadly, not anymore.

On July 17th 2001 I was told by my GP, the same guy who prescribed me medicine for a flu, the same guy who told me ‘’those tonsils will have to go’’, told me I had a tumour the size of a golf ball on my spine. He gave me an optimistic five months to live. I knew a boy who had a tumour on his spine once, it wasn’t cancerous and he got it removed. Not me though, mine was cancerous and un-removable due to its position, an attempt at it could leave me permanently paralyzed at best. So with my optimistic five months I spent the first of which awkwardly responding to relatives whom I have only seen once at my grand-mothers funeral when I was eight, to things like ‘’you’re so brave’’ and ‘’don’t worry, Jesus has a special place in heaven just for you’’.

The next two weeks were spent collecting money so I could live my last few months in harmony.

I went to drop my dog, Patrick, to my Mother’s house, not my parent’s house, my mother’s house. My father died when I was nineteen, since then my mom hasn’t been the same , she fusses over me and my brother too much now, I was afraid how she would react to the news when I first found out I had cancer, I didn’t think she could handle another person she loved prematurely dying. She took it better than I thought, but she’s been in the garden a lot lately, gardening away the pain I guessed. I felt sorry for her, as I think I can deal with this whole thing, but I’m not sure that she can. She has my brother though, he still lives at home. After my Dad died he moved back in with my mom, I thought it was noble of him seeing as he was young and on a good salary he could be anywhere, but he wants to be with her. I wish I could be like that. I jumped at the chance to get out of that house, too many memories of dad and of my mother crying herself to sleep. Patrick didn’t like this house, there wasn’t a big enough garden for his liking. I only got Patrick to have someone to come home to, but he was more than that now, he was the one who cheered me up when I broke up with my girlfriend, he was the one who warned me when I was in danger, or at least his idea of danger, which was very different to mine. Unlike Patrick I didn’t find a cat on my window sill life threatening.

And so here I am, on my way to Dublin International airport for flight 237E from Dublin to Paris. To taste croissants, to see the sights and try not to think about the inevitable.

I saw the Mona Lisa, I posed for a picture under the arc de triumph and I even paid €7.46 for a bottle of coke on top of the Eifel tower. ..And so that was France.

I am now sitting on a plane, waiting for free airspace so I can fly to Barcelona after our original flight time was delayed due to a woman having a stroke.

Barcelona easily bested France. I sun bathed on a beach, I saw Barcelona lose 4-1 to rivals real Madrid at the Nou camp and I had dinner with a lovely Spanish girl named Sophie, she had long brown hair that seemed so perfect, I didn’t tell her about my cancer, if I did I probably would’ve gotten a sympathy kiss, even though it wasn’t a date, rather two people both with nothing to do for the night. Usually when I had nothing to do for a night, I would rent a movie and watch it alone, but I’m trying to be more outgoing, and I think it’s working. I mean I walked up to a girl on a beach who was having trouble putting sun cream on her back and helped her, talked a little and asked her to dinner. ..And so that was Spain.

Now I’m in an airport shop, buying a pen and a cross word book in the hope it will distract me on my flight from Barcelona to Toronto.

Canada was nice, not great, not bad, nice. I saw the Vancouver canucks play, I saw niagra falls and I even took place in a horse race after a one day crash course in horse riding, I placed fifth. It was a charity thing and nobody else had experience in horse riding either but we seemed too all have fun. …And so that was Canada.

Now I’m in the air, drinking some scotch on a flight from Toronto to New York, It’s funny, before this whole thing I never drank alcohol, now I have a scotch at least once a day.

I picked up the paper ‘the New York times’ September 10th 2001’s edition, a woman was on the front page for saving a baby from drowning. By now I assumed I would be at a desk, writing lines of code. It’s funny how life can throw you a curve-ball.

I woke up early, 7-39 to be exact on September 11th, 2001. I got a cup of ‘Joe’ as the Americans called it and a famous New York bagel. By now I had gotten used to eating alone in restaurants, I usually tried to get a window seat and observe the world as I ate. Today was no different.

I heard a high pitched scream, I couldn’t make out what the woman was saying, however, but then a man, with a deeper voice, said ‘’it’s going to crash’’ whilst pointing upwards. I couldn’t see the sky from where I was sitting, I could only see tall building, skyscrapers. I stepped outside and looked at another skyscraper, the world trade centre to be exact and I saw the plane. I thought to myself ‘’if I can place fifth in a horse race after only a day’s training, surely an experienced pilot can avoid hitting a building’’ and suddenly I realised, it was no accident. Then occurred my last half-smile on earth, right before being buried under falling rubble and right after figuring out the plane was hijacked.

The end wasn’t like how I imagined it, it certainly was a different circumstance though. I saw a thousand pictures flash before my eyes again, like that day I left Ireland, the day I said goodbye to my mother for the last time, I wondered how she would find out about me, a police man at the door, she couldn’t go through that again. She had to identify my father, after his car crashed into a pole, he was broke up badly, just seeing him like that was enough for my mother to start drinking again. I saw my first girlfriend, my first A on a test, my first goal, my first bike, my first apartment and the last time I saw my mother’s face.
…And so that was me.

That's excellent. I think it would be an A (look at past chief examiners reports to see the standard). How long is this when wrote out??

paddzdaman

Hey I thinking out writing between two essays, one which was marked 70/70 by my teacher, but only got 52/70 and if I had gotten it to A stanard I would have got an A in my mocks. However I also have an extremely imaginative essay ( and pretty f***ed up ). It got 65/70 by my teacher but my teacher said that an examiner wants imagination in students essays. Which one should I go for. Would it help if I wrote them out? Oh yeah the first (70/70) essay is based on bits of dulce et decorem in world war one of two brothers attempting to escape to switzerland from the horrible trenches and the other one involves a purple elephant, an enchanted world, a blue ballon ( which runs of green diesel ) and john joe the horrologist ( John joe from the late late show ) ........ yeah

KirkCheated09

iliketwixbars wrote: »

That's excellent. I think it would be an A (look at past chief examiners reports to see the standard). How long is this when wrote out??

About 4 1/2 - to 5 A4 pages.

FrankyJ96

Pretty good Kirk!! Pretty sad! Id say it would be around the 60 mark or so!

FrankyJ96

paddzdaman wrote: »

Hey I thinking out writing between two essays, one which was marked 70/70 by my teacher, but only got 52/70 and if I had gotten it to A stanard I would have got an A in my mocks. However I also have an extremely imaginative essay ( and pretty f***ed up ). It got 65/70 by my teacher but my teacher said that an examiner wants imagination in students essays. Which one should I go for. Would it help if I wrote them out? Oh yeah the first (70/70) essay is based on bits of dulce et decorem in world war one of two brothers attempting to escape to switzerland from the horrible trenches and the other one involves a purple elephant, an enchanted world, a blue ballon ( which runs of green diesel ) and john joe the horrologist ( John joe from the late late show ) ........ yeah

Id say pick the imaginative one... My english teacher said the same about the examiners to me.

Pidge96

I'll give you a mark based on the marking scheme if you want criticism so..
Content 14/20
Structure 12/15
Expression 18/30
Mechanics 5/5.. so that's 49, or 70%

In my opinion, I really liked the backstory about about how he had cancer and how he wanted to see the world, but be careful not to get too morbid, because it doesn't make for nice reading and you never know who could be correcting it Although like examiners look for imagination and the reason I docked you for content was because you used an event that happened in real life which really detracted from the quality of the story line.

Structure was good, like laid out in a logical way, although watch your tenses, or it'll confuse the person reading it, like "I am in Paris... I was in Barcelona" in the order..things like that you know? So for the expression, at the start you were fairly detailed into things but you lost your way as the story progressed, I thought him noting the beauty of the cities etc. could have been in way more depth, and would have been more vivid and enjoyable to read. Also, don't repeat phrases you've used already "And that was...". You have the bones of a very good essay but you have a lot going on in it, like maybe you could start off in Paris and a short intro into why you're there, it has enough material to make two stories out of, the trips and the grief of the family.

The only reason I say that is because it's very hard going to try and write 5 A4 pages in an English exam in an hour. Mechanics first time around I would have given a three, but they're typos anyway, which I'm sure you wouldn't make in the exam. Hope this helps

ohsurelook

It was great,except

gardening away the pain I guessed

ACTUALLY PISSED.

My one tip: Cut that quote