This is a piece of descriptive writing for question 5 on the new AQA English Language GCSE Exams. I’m so pleased with my results I got a Level 8 in English Language and a Level 7 in English Literature. I couldn’t find the exact picture that was in the mock test but we had to write a story about a lighthouse in a storm. It’s important to remember for anyone sitting the exams that the mark scheme is the same for descriptive writing as it is for writing a story, so make sure you write a very descriptive story with only a couple of events within it. I scored 28/40 for this question. I’m not sure about content and grammar marks exactly but I hope you enjoy x
The lightbulb flickered and shook with the waves that crashed into the rocks below the house. Patch whimpered in the corner under the table – I wished I could join her.
Startled, I peeled off the covers and tried to focus on the chaos around me, my eyes struggled to adjust to the lack of light. Picture frames littered the floor, books had been thrown from the cases, the broken clock face ticked the same second.
The semi-darkness that covered my room was momentarily expelled as a pang of purple light filled the space. With squinted eyes, I struggled to the window, grasping out for stability in all directions and finding none. Deep rumbles of thunder echoed around the shaking objects, causing a new cascade of belongs to come crashing down.
Once I found the ledge, I stood frozen. The great magnitude of the storm hit me and my ears became deafened to the tempest outside. Winds whipped the waves into great walls that cut the rocks of all protection, stripped them bare, left them exposed. I realised in that moment how alone I was.
My chest ached from fright. It became impossible to breathe. Death felt so near. He was a stranger I would come to know as a friend. Another sudden flash and the rumble which made me fall to my knees almost in prayer. I looked to the sky only to see the tremulous clouds swirling around, suffocating the sky of all its stars. The mighty winds rattled the glass from its pane. It fell upon me like the rain on this house; left me cut and bruised like the rocks far below. I couldn’t hear my own scream from the wind and the waves which played a ruthless game where everyone loses.
The barrage of cannon fire that soared through the window frame trapped me in an everlasting cacophony of wind and rain. Stabbing and slashing at me, tearing me limb from limb. I was dragged and punched, kicking and screaming towards the hole. Bright white light to guide my way. The metallic taste of blood and salt filled my mouth. My hair stood on end and the air was electric.
Everything seemed still as I fell. I was flying. The sky began to clear and I became sea foam on the water. Bubbling along. Tranquil and at peace. Just like my brother. He was a captain and I was just me.