creative writing

this sounds like a fantastic story (esp ending) , im no examiner, but id estimate around 36/40

hii does someone mind marking my work. Lnag paper 1, question 5 out of 40.
Write a story on something unfortunate that happened.
He just watched, sorrowfully, staring blankly into my panic-stricken eyes.
‘You can’t just leave me here!’ I shot at him, indignantly, as I strode across the living room, my heart bubbling with rage. ‘What if someone finds me? What if...’ My father held his hand up to silence me. His gaze darted around the room, as he placed his quaint plaid shirt and leather jacket on his body. My fists clenched as my tears burnt with anger, distorting my vision. Without warning, my father backed out the front door, the latch gently sliding in place with a tiny click. He had done it again. He left me in the house all on my own. For any teenager, this may seem a reward, a time of serenity.
You see, things happened in this town. Strange, paradoxical, unexplainable things.
Exasperated, I slumped back onto the sofa, holding my head in my hands. My heart chipped away with morose as the hours passed by. I just wanted my father back. The humorous, kindhearted, jubilant father I once thought so fondly of: Who changed him? The neighborhood seemed disturbed, I could almost hear the presence of the silent shadows sweeping through the roads, lurking behind every car at night. Sighing, I laid back and switched on the TV, hoping to distract myself. Instantly, the news flashed onto the screen. ‘Do not open the doors tonight. We repeat, keep yourselves safe.’
‘Do not open the doors.’
This happened every day. My father, my malevolent father, was supposed to keep me safe, he promised my mother. Before her death. He promised her he would do everything tok eep me safe. To make me feel loved. I glanced out of the window at the night sky, the perpetual darkness engulfing my thoughts. How I missed my mother; her beautiful lavender homely scent, her long chesnut brown hair that rippled with every stride she took, her soothing voice, calling out to me...
The doorbell chimed.
My heart drummed rapidly against my ribcage, as my thoughts fell back to earth with a thump. Do not open the door. Beads of sweat gathered against my forehead, as I checked my antique watch face. 1am. My father would be home again, I would be safe. The doorbell chimed. It echoed to me, ringing in my ears, as a gargantuan wave of terror crashed over my shaking body. My vision suddenly blurred, as the walls of my house became taller and taller. I could feel myself shrinking, shrinking, my body getting sucked through the old oak floors. I felt weak...
I staggered off the floor, clutching my side, like a ton of weights had been pushed onto my back. The noises had stopped, and the gleam of the sun shined through the window, grinning warmly at me. How was it morning already? My father still hadn’t come home. I didn’t know how long I had been unconscious yesterday, but I figured it was due to the stresses I had about my father.
The doorbell chimed!
My father was home, he came back for me, he had come to tell me he would never leave me again. I opened the door, in excitement, expecting to see my father’s open arms, ready to grasp me in a tight embrace.
However, his body wasn’t even there.
His head hung from a thick rope, like a newly lit lantern, on the ground dripped thick, scarlet blood as it oozed from his neck.
He just watched, sorrowfully, staring blankly into my panic-stricken eyes.

Haha no warning for the end?! I'm reading this at 11 pm just abouts to sleep.... 😰But it was incredible for something so short! I dont know the mark scheme but I'm sure you wouldve done well! (Only a couple typos which is normal for typing!)

thank you soo much!! hopefully u dont get nightmares after this 🤣

Very good descriptive writing and atmosphere. A few descriptions and word choices are questionable but I think this is a strong 35/40.

ooh okay thanks!! what do u mean 'questionable'?

I mean that personally I would've chosen different words and ways to describe things. When you say "my heart chipped away with morose" instead of morose I'd have said something like "bit by bit, my heart started to grate like a slithered grains of cheese with every hour that slipped by."
Other than that though, I really love the descriptions and how you build atmosphere, this is the sort of stuff that makes reading literature such a pleasure.