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anyone able to mark my eng lang question 5? (aqa)

the question was 'write a description about a conflict as suggested by this image' (i'll copy and paste the pic below, its not letting me put it here) - any feedback or marking would be muchh aprecciated!!!
my response::

Sharp metal cut into my fingers as they curled around the rusted chicken wire. Once shiny and uniform, years of neglect and abuse had weathered the fence down to a sagging, deteriorating stretch of wire and posts, going on for as far as the eye could see over the dry, dystopian desert. The orange of the fence made it blend in with the dusty surroundings, dust that covered everything and everyone who dared to trespass onto this land. I tightened my grip, the idea of failing too horrific to bear, and stabilised myself as the weakened fence rocked to and fro, in and out with each movement I made.

I searched upwards for a handhold, but was blinded by the blazing sun, bearing down on me like an ant under a torch beam. In a cloudless sky, the fiery heat was inescapable, with no shade to seek refuge in and no chance of the respite of rain. I could feel my skin blistering, though the sun had barely risen, and already, my eyes were aching from the unforgiving rays that seemed to be getting brighter every second. Again, I looked up for a handhold, and was blinded by the blazing sun. I knew I was nearly at the top. I had to be.

In a furtive attempt to find a handhold, I let go for a moment, throwing my hand out for something to grasp onto - my arm flailed around for what felt like hours, the unstable fence rocking with my sudden movement, while my insecurity was clearer to me than ever before. My mind and body had been worn down and the choice of giving up felt almost like a blessing; yet I held on tight to my dream, too much hope to watch it escape. Still searching for a handhold, I suddenly felt hot metal slip beneath my hand and reflexively gripped on tight, relieved for some stability.

A barb sank itself deep into the flesh of my finger, releasing a jolt of pain that pierced through my body as I felt a drop of dark red blood ooze out of the puncture and start falling down my forearm.

A cry of pain escaped me, before disappearing into the barren landscape.

I was brought back to two years ago, climbing the same fence just a few hundred metres away from where I was right then. Maybe if I had time, I would have gone to see the congealed blood on the wire, stagnant and stedfast, with no water to wash it away. I might have seen my mother’s necklace, still there, snagged on the top wire, with no wind to blow it away, and no life to find it. I felt the pain as I had felt it then, all encompassing and inescapable. This was a pain that would never go away, never heal. A much younger me had been unable to continue, unable to stop my cries and screams from escaping my body. Older, I could push the pain to the back of my brain and force myself to continue. My mind raced, begging me for salvation from the torment that I faced between then and now.

Holding in my tears, unable to make a sound, I gently released my hand from its grip on the wire, pulling the barb out from where it had lodged itself inside me, peeling my hand away from where the drying blood had become sticky against the wire, and found a new hold. In a lurching movement that sent creaks and judders oscillating down the fence, I pulled myself over the barbed wire, releasing my grip as the fence swayed beneath me. As I fell, I felt the relief of wind, the breeze cooling the suffocating air brushing against my face, I felt the relief of renewed hope. With a thud, I landed clumsily on the baked ground that burnt the soles of my feet, and instantly covered me in the dusty soil that hovered in the air and seemed to make everything look very far away. A cloud of settled dust rose above me, gouging and scraping at my eyes as I stood up.

I allowed myself a breath of relief, a breath to give me resilience for the rest of my journey, before setting off. I padded silently on the hardpan soil, tending to my injury as I turned back for one last glimpse of the rusted fence that had held me captive for so many years.

tysm!!

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anyone able to mark my eng lang question 5? (aqa)

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