GCSE Draft Into The Storm Watch

Himtiaz
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I have written this draft for my controlled Assessment. I was wondering if you could go over it and tell me how i could improve. Maybe give me a mark our of ten for form and sentences?

The river beneath me began to swell, water cascading over the rocks. Clouds began to rumble and darken. Steadily building into a thunderous deluge, icy sheets of rain began to pour mercilessly from the ever darkening sky, making the unpaved bridge awash with mud and obscuring my vision. Suddenly, a fork of lightning, brilliant and buzzing with a magnificent electricity, flashed majestically through the groaning mountain of clouds. Whistling and shrieking, the wind raged through the night, like an angered bear.
Thunder rippled; the noise enveloped the river and its surroundings and the trees nearby were sleek with torrents of rain cold rainwater.
The wind demanded to be heard.
The lightning fought to be seen.
The rain lived to soak my clothes.
The storm had broken...

Only 15 minutes ago, I was sitting in my office typing up my latest report of volcanic landforms. I laughed to myself reflecting on my past. I had wasted 40 years of my life to look at some rocks. To what extent? Nothing! There was no future for me. Finishing it with my name.
Giorgio Tselikas. The typing mouse flickered!
SMASH. A window had just shattered, but I was so tired of my job, I didn’t have the strength to look. My tea started shaking as the earth burped finishing its four course meal. “Oh, why does I do dis to myself” I exclaimed. My cup fell over. Crush, snap, scream. I jumped out of my seat.
Outside, till the horizon was a storm. But not your typical American storm. It was as if Yellowstone had erupted. I started praying and clutched a picture of the only person I know. My only family, friend or living creature. My sister. My sister and I had always been closely knit. To be fair, we did discover geological patterns, which helped to save Hawaii.
The sky went as purple as silk on an emperor’s robe. The two story building was ripped out of the ground. The house started spinning and spinning and spinning. I feel my lungs and my heart coming up my throat. Everything fades away…
PAUSE (View of a death bed with the mattress folded and distressing mourners walking away)
It was a day after the super storm nicknamed Sally. What had I done to deserve this fate? I started up a 1990s television, just sitting in the corner of the hospital room. President George Bush popped onto the blank television.
“A terrible storm has bit Alabama … I’m very sorry for those whose family members have passed away… 100s died, 1000s injured, tens of thousands homeless. Over 50,000 square acres of beautiful, natural, untouched forest was torn up by this natural disaster. As I turn to try to remember why I was here, I see my sister, lying there with an amputated leg and a bruised face. She was hurt and she was hurt badly. I see her eyes. I see her eyes closed. My heart stopped. I check her chart.
It wasn’t as bad as it looked. It was written that she would survive. I sat down in a wooden chair. It was all a blur what had happened, never the less, I kept seeing images…
The house was twirling and I had just blacked out. I regained consciousness to see that I am about 100 feet in the air. Air rushed in under me. Just a few meters behind me, the ground seemed as a barren desert. It infuriated me to see that for hundreds of year’s geologists working with zoologists had cultivated this area to bring humanity one of the widest ranges of forest in the galaxy. All the trees were tightly-knit, just one strand in a massive web of life. Green leaves, yellow leaves, red leaves. It was a rainbow of rich, autumnal colors. The scent of earth and water drifted through the air. It was a picture of serenity, one which would endure for many long years. Yet in some mere minutes, this was transformed into a place, not even Mother Nature could love. One might consider that life is like this. Many work so hard on a sole object and that said object crushes their hopes. The house plummeted to the ground and broke into a billion pieces.
I sat next to my next of kin. A doctor called for me. He complimented me on my work. I laughed
He explained that my sister had sustained serious blunt force head trauma and that her chart had been mixed up with someone else’s. My internal organs froze for a minute. Could this be true? The person I had been with for all eternity was destroyed. My heart shattered. All of a sudden, I realized the doctors lips were moving but I couldn’t hear anything, he wrote on a piece of paper that I had lost my sense of sound. I I staggered as if I had drank a gallon of beer, I see my sister but with a plastic body bag zipping over her head. I scream, I shout, I cry. I fall to my knees. I looked out the window seeing my foster parents (who were killed during an earth, signaling “come join us”)
I take my trusted parker pen and stabbed. The pain that once burned like fire had faded away to an icy numbness. Black filled the edges of my vision and the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat. My breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. Seconds passed as I lay there, then, I heard voices. People swarmed all over me, trying to help me, I realized. They wanted to save me. If I could have, I would have laughed. Surely they could tell that it was far too late for me to be saved, yet they were like children, naive to the darkness of the real world. The despair and suffering of the world that took everyone I loved away from me. I would be joining them soon though. I would be able to leave all the pain behind. I closed my eyes, I could die happily now. My fragile, human heart beat one last time. Slump. My body hits the floor! Gradually a pool of blood forms on the floor.
The janitor's bunch of keys was to it, what a fancy sports car was to a lawyer. It dangled the huge bunch of variously sized keys from his overalls belt loops. It had the look of a powerfully built man gone slightly to seed, the protruding belly suggesting its predilection for cold beer, cold slices and cold meat pies. It was my undertaker. It was called to clean the mess. 40 years of ground breaking work and no one to remember me. My life ended with a pen and my body lies in the bottom of a ship. I laughed!
“Every man’s life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another!” – Giorgio Tselikas, Nobel Prize Winner 2015.
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Jono-Wolf
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What is this GCSE lit or language?
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Himtiaz
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(Original post by Jono-Wolf)
What is this GCSE lit or language?
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