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English Language Question 5

Hii, I've got my English Lang exam tomorrow and I wrote this story thing, I won't necessarily use it tomorrow but I was wondering what you guys think of it, and how I can improve it. I had this idea but it didn't execute 100% how I wanted it to, wondered if anyone had any advice or tips, appreciate it :smile:

Here it is:

Something dangerous.

That’s how Emily had described her unusual symptoms to the doctor all those years ago when she was an innocent child. Obviously, being so young, her parents had dismissed the notion of her being ill, putting it down to wanting attention. Even once she had been attended to by a doctor, after persistent whining had driven her parents to booking an appointment, they could find no reason to be alarmed, saying she was a healthy young child who was simply a bit of a ‘drama queen’. Exactly those words were spoken, and it has not left her mind since. Drama queen: was she really being that dramatic? Or was something genuinely wrong?

It had started off as a pulsating in her neck: it was a slow tap, that knocked every so often and caused no pain, just discomfort. Simply pressing down was enough to suppress the strange feeling and allowed the young Emily to continue on with her life. As she got older, however, it started to get worse. Pulsating turned to scratches, it was why she complained so much to go the doctors, the slow tapping had turned to nails scratching the inside of her neck. Adamant, she had said that the inside of her neck had been cut, she was sure of it, but the doctor’s verdict had been quite the opposite. Uncomfortable as it was, she learned to wait for the scratching to subside, for whatever it was inside of her to grow bored and leave. At that stage, it was enough, and the young Emily could continue on with her studies. However, it was when she reached her teenage years that things started to get worse, like a wound that had been left untreated, her symptoms started to grow. Voices: she would hear them at night, when she thought she was alone. Whispering and soft, these voices would wrap tightly around her ears like headphones, amplifying their supernatural sound into her ears and leaving her an insomniac unable to sleep because the voices would keep her up. All night she would hear them, and yet, their words were indecipherable: harsh but flowing, husky yet soft, their strange language would wriggle its way into her brain rendering her paralysed to do anything but listen. Auditory schizophrenia that was the doctor’s verdict. Easy to control, he said. She’ll be back to normal in no time, he promised.

He was wrong.

Medication did not contain the voices, and therapy did not help her sleep. Whatever it was that was torturing her, it was doing a very good job, she hated to admit. As years passed, she grew accustomed to the voices, they had become ingrained in her daily life. No longer did she bother to take the useless pills or attend therapy with the overly-friendly woman and her notebook full of nightmares. If anything, she grew to get used to the voices and even enjoy their company, after all, there wasn’t much else she could do about them, so she might as well view the glass half full. For years this mentality had helped her get through. But years end, and the next one always looked bleaker than the last.

“And what about you Emily, what’s your opinion on the proceedings?” Eyeing her disinterestedly, the CEO looked like an over-fed pig looking at yet another farmer coming to feed him. All down the table, eyes swivelled in their sockets to stare at Emily as she stood up, snapped out of her train of thought that had been heading towards a disastrous finale.

“I…” she started, then stopped. The pulsing. It was back. But at an intensity she had never experienced. The light scratching had turned to fists pounding at her neck, sharp nails clawing their way down her neck. Instinctively, her hand went up to press down at the site, the metal of the gold band encircling her left ring finger cooling down the heat that had erupted from her skin.

“I…”

“Emily, do you have anything interesting to say or not?” demanded the CEO, growing fed up of Emily’s pathetic display of confusion. He thinks she has simply been day dreaming, lost in the musings of her mind and ignoring the very real issue before him: whether to call off or go through with the takeover.

Skin ripped.

Blackened, as though burned by the fires of hell, talons pierced Emily’s neck as she let out a guttural scream. Slicing the rest of her neck as though opening a curtain for a show, a deformed and otherworldly creature stepped tentatively out of Emily’s body, brushing away the tendrils of her organs as though it was a Russian doll emerging from its larger counterpart. But this Russian doll looked nothing like the one it had emerged from.

Standing at a little shorter than Emily, it’s body was the colour of hot embers, an almost blinding red that mirrored the heat it radiated. Stretched over it’s thin wire frame like a sheet of pastry, its skin gripped onto every crevice of its hideous body, as though scared of letting go, showing every jutting bone and angle of its form. Crackling, like that of stepping on dead twigs, signalled the arrival of its wings, slowly stretching out after being cocooned in its host. It was a monster. Eyes, small and wicked-looking pierced the souls of those staring open-mouthed at the table. Dead and ripped apart like a fragile toy doll, Emily’s body had been forgotten about, replaced by the new horror of this fiend.
It had been waiting a long time to escape. Emily was merely a vessel for this creature, and had been carrying this thing with her ever since her birth. She had no other purpose in life than to be the host for this new-born devil. It was something that didn’t belong on Earth. Something evil and malevolent in a way that is incapable by humans. Something so full of hatred and bitterness, its very tears are poisonous.

Something dangerous.
Original post by Liqht
Hii, I've got my English Lang exam tomorrow and I wrote this story thing, I won't necessarily use it tomorrow but I was wondering what you guys think of it, and how I can improve it. I had this idea but it didn't execute 100% how I wanted it to, wondered if anyone had any advice or tips, appreciate it :smile:
Here it is:
Something dangerous.
That’s how Emily had described her unusual symptoms to the doctor all those years ago when she was an innocent child. Obviously, being so young, her parents had dismissed the notion of her being ill, putting it down to wanting attention. Even once she had been attended to by a doctor, after persistent whining had driven her parents to booking an appointment, they could find no reason to be alarmed, saying she was a healthy young child who was simply a bit of a ‘drama queen’. Exactly those words were spoken, and it has not left her mind since. Drama queen: was she really being that dramatic? Or was something genuinely wrong?
It had started off as a pulsating in her neck: it was a slow tap, that knocked every so often and caused no pain, just discomfort. Simply pressing down was enough to suppress the strange feeling and allowed the young Emily to continue on with her life. As she got older, however, it started to get worse. Pulsating turned to scratches, it was why she complained so much to go the doctors, the slow tapping had turned to nails scratching the inside of her neck. Adamant, she had said that the inside of her neck had been cut, she was sure of it, but the doctor’s verdict had been quite the opposite. Uncomfortable as it was, she learned to wait for the scratching to subside, for whatever it was inside of her to grow bored and leave. At that stage, it was enough, and the young Emily could continue on with her studies. However, it was when she reached her teenage years that things started to get worse, like a wound that had been left untreated, her symptoms started to grow. Voices: she would hear them at night, when she thought she was alone. Whispering and soft, these voices would wrap tightly around her ears like headphones, amplifying their supernatural sound into her ears and leaving her an insomniac unable to sleep because the voices would keep her up. All night she would hear them, and yet, their words were indecipherable: harsh but flowing, husky yet soft, their strange language would wriggle its way into her brain rendering her paralysed to do anything but listen. Auditory schizophrenia that was the doctor’s verdict. Easy to control, he said. She’ll be back to normal in no time, he promised.
He was wrong.
Medication did not contain the voices, and therapy did not help her sleep. Whatever it was that was torturing her, it was doing a very good job, she hated to admit. As years passed, she grew accustomed to the voices, they had become ingrained in her daily life. No longer did she bother to take the useless pills or attend therapy with the overly-friendly woman and her notebook full of nightmares. If anything, she grew to get used to the voices and even enjoy their company, after all, there wasn’t much else she could do about them, so she might as well view the glass half full. For years this mentality had helped her get through. But years end, and the next one always looked bleaker than the last.
“And what about you Emily, what’s your opinion on the proceedings?” Eyeing her disinterestedly, the CEO looked like an over-fed pig looking at yet another farmer coming to feed him. All down the table, eyes swivelled in their sockets to stare at Emily as she stood up, snapped out of her train of thought that had been heading towards a disastrous finale.
“I…” she started, then stopped. The pulsing. It was back. But at an intensity she had never experienced. The light scratching had turned to fists pounding at her neck, sharp nails clawing their way down her neck. Instinctively, her hand went up to press down at the site, the metal of the gold band encircling her left ring finger cooling down the heat that had erupted from her skin.
“I…”
“Emily, do you have anything interesting to say or not?” demanded the CEO, growing fed up of Emily’s pathetic display of confusion. He thinks she has simply been day dreaming, lost in the musings of her mind and ignoring the very real issue before him: whether to call off or go through with the takeover.
Skin ripped.
Blackened, as though burned by the fires of hell, talons pierced Emily’s neck as she let out a guttural scream. Slicing the rest of her neck as though opening a curtain for a show, a deformed and otherworldly creature stepped tentatively out of Emily’s body, brushing away the tendrils of her organs as though it was a Russian doll emerging from its larger counterpart. But this Russian doll looked nothing like the one it had emerged from.
Standing at a little shorter than Emily, it’s body was the colour of hot embers, an almost blinding red that mirrored the heat it radiated. Stretched over it’s thin wire frame like a sheet of pastry, its skin gripped onto every crevice of its hideous body, as though scared of letting go, showing every jutting bone and angle of its form. Crackling, like that of stepping on dead twigs, signalled the arrival of its wings, slowly stretching out after being cocooned in its host. It was a monster. Eyes, small and wicked-looking pierced the souls of those staring open-mouthed at the table. Dead and ripped apart like a fragile toy doll, Emily’s body had been forgotten about, replaced by the new horror of this fiend.
It had been waiting a long time to escape. Emily was merely a vessel for this creature, and had been carrying this thing with her ever since her birth. She had no other purpose in life than to be the host for this new-born devil. It was something that didn’t belong on Earth. Something evil and malevolent in a way that is incapable by humans. Something so full of hatred and bitterness, its very tears are poisonous.
Something dangerous.
Hi, that looks really good! I have English lang tomorrow as well, one tip though; maybe perhaps make it shorter if you don’t think you can write all of it in the 45 mins, but if you think you can manage that then that sounds good
Good luck

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