Primary 5 Composition
Theme : A Dangerous Situation
I told my students that the next few composition lessons will be a series of more guided writing, meaning that I will set boundaries on what their stories should be like.
For example, the composition that we did last week was based on the theme of A Dangerous Situation. I wanted them to focus in particular on the theme of A Fire. So, I handed them descriptive phrases (picture of book used below) that would help them bring out the theme well. They all had to use the same setting in their stories – the restaurant- and the P5s were told that their characters had to be either outside of the restaurant or inside the restaurant. With these boundaries set and phrases on hand, my P5s proceeded to write their descriptive and suspenseful stories based on the theme of a fire.
The Model composition that I have chosen had the right amount of suspense and realism to her plot. Ethel even added a touch of humour to her story! She picked the phrases given to her and blended them well with her own creative ideas. Well-done!
“Make your wish Jodie!” my mother and father cried out. Grinning at my sister, Emma, I shut my eyes to make a wish. It was my birthday and since I loved all things vintage, my parents had brought me and Emma to an old fashioned, slightly run down restaurant to celebrate my birthday. Suddenly, I realised that the lights around me were flickering off and on. Then there was a loud pop. As we looked up at the old light bulb hanging above my table, to everyone’s horror, we saw a small fire starting. Embers were shooting out from the burning wires.
Cries and screams could be heard as the burning hot embers landed on tablecloths, causing them to burst into flames. Scampering to the door, people ranging from young to old rushed like crazy out of the restaurant, causing a stampede. I could hear my heart pounding in my chest, wrist and between my ears. Standing there with my blood running cold, my backside began to grow hotter and hotter, as if it was on fire. In fact it was on fire! Red hot flames danced on my skirt as it travelled up the fabric. Screaming my head off, I danced around, beating the fire out with my hands, which I soon realised, was a very stupid thing to do. My hands were being burnt and by the time I realised how stupid I was, my hands were a very dark shade of brown. Luckily, my dear sister came to my help. Braving the heat, she ran through a thin wall of fire and began stamping quickly on my long skirt. A few seconds later, the fire on my skirt was gone. However, there was no time to waste.
Smoke began filling the restaurant, making it hard to breathe. “Help!” I can’t breathe!” I gasped in distress, between fits of coughing. Wasting no time, Emma pulled me down to the floor and we groped towards the door. The acrid smoke seared our eyes and reduced visibility to zero. By the time we reached the door, our eyes were smarting and we felt as if our lungs would burst.
Throwing the restaurant-on-fire door open, me and Emma rolled out of the doorway, being the last people to escape the burning restaurant. We came out just in time too. There was a loud explosion in the restaurant, causing a wall of fire to shoot fifty metres in the air. People pulled us away from what was left of the restaurant and the paramedics placed us on stretchers and carried us to the ambulance. I glanced weakly at my sister. Using my last bit of strength, I called out, “Thank you Emma!” Turning to me, she smiled at me before falling unconscious. Resting on the stretcher, the last thing I saw was the firemen fighting the raging inferno. Slowly, the light around me faded until there was nothing but darkness.
I jolted up, wincing in pain as I gingerly pressed my poor hands against the bed. Taking a look around, I spotted Emma on the bed next to me. Although she was cleaned up, the burns and scars from the fire could be seen all around her body. Next to her, I saw my parents’ heads bowed in prayer.
“Mom? Dad?” I croaked.
My parents ‘eyes flew open and they embraced me with hugs and kisses. My mother told me that they had tried to get to me but the crowd was pushing them back. Recalling the incident I recounted how my dress had caught on fire and how Emma ran through a wall of fire to save me. After finishing my story, my father sighed with relief and replied, “Well, thank God we are safe and sound!”
After Emma and I recovered and were discharged from the hospital, we would sometimes pass by the burnt down restaurant. The stench of smoke still hung in the air and as I gazed at the debris, I prayed that I would never be in such a dangerous situation again.