The Student Room Group

Creative writing gcse

The sun dripped warmth like hot wax, both soothing and smarting the people contained in the camp. The desert glowed with light. The heat was piercing that it made the corners of my throat lust for water trickle down its dry passage. The blue horizon rippled, like a bronze shield beaten by a hammer (as though some Greek god had been reborn to hurl the shards of glorious) echoing for an eternity.
As the grainy sand blew into my eyes, tiredness crept in like a slithering snake poisoning the muscles of my body. My body weak from the constant barrage of the sun, sucking out the little energy that was dwindling in my heart.

Ahead the houses that once thrived with joy, happiness and love had now been broken into a thousand pieces, broken of peace. Planks of wood lay limply. Windows shattered into dust. Vibrant paint crying and revealing its grey concrete beneath. Doors that once were a means of safety was now just a sheer curtain for privacy.

Smiles that had once run in the blood of the Iranians turned into darkness.

Families who once had one another to hold and touch have now orphaned from love.

People here were desperate and broken from the trauma that they had endured. The trauma had etched into their skins like a tattoo, which was never wanted.

Houses shattered by bombs still echoed inside their heads, noises that once were filled with elegant bird singing their sweet songs.

Freedom and peace, two words that I never thought I would lose
Hunger lingered in my stomach, which was an aching pain that never could be cured. Every day, we received two cans of bland soup ad bread: minimal food that only barely allowed us to do daily activities without dying.

The food looked like mouldy food; food that had white maggots twisting and turning; food which would end you.
However bad the situation was, children still played in the desert with grainy sand rubbing against their feet and the sun blistering their skin, causing them to dribble in sticky sweat. Happy, even when caged with barbed wire, the children ran across the desert with the winds caressing their skin, and they played frivolously with their friends without any worries lingering in the depth of their hearts.

Above, the sky showed off its artist’s trickery: cobalt blue depths, azure outlines to the few sleeping white clouds, a sapphire halo glowed around the sun, emitting a beautiful radiance. Beneath, a watcher might shut their eye sand hope for a life of freedom again.
(edited 2 years ago)
Reply 1
Peng writing.
Original post by Tolgash
Peng writing.

i will **** your grandpa
Original post by kabeer_szn
i will **** your grandpa

lol why

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