In English class we have been working on a creative writing story. We had to bring in a picture and tell the story behind it. Each Day we added a piece to it until it had been revised over and over. We had to add extra detail on specific things, thought shots and snapshots, and an exploded moment that explains the five senses in detail. Today we exchanged our finished stories with three other people. Those three people had to ask five questions about the piece and give some criticism on what we could do better. We also had to score it, zero being awful and four being perfect. My story was about a picture of me holding a deer head when I was eleven. Here is my story:
I woke up on a bright sunny morning. I was filled with excitement because my dad was going to take me hunting with him. What I didn't know, was that I was going to inject terror into my own day.
It was early October in 2006. My family was on our yearly hunting trip. We go hunting every year in Graham. In 1999 there was a fire there, so its mostly snags and dead fall. The charred remains of the trees litter the ground. The stronger trees remain standing, stripped naked by the fire. There is really thick undergrowth, so it is great for the deer.
The previous afternoon, my dad had shot a deer. Today, he wanted me to go retrieve it with him. As we made our trek up the mountain, I could barely keep up. My dad hid the deer in a spot thick with chaparral. Chaparral is a really thick bush that is really impossible to get through. After about two hours of stumbling over logs, and getting caught in bushes, we came to where my dad hid the deer. To my relief, he had already gutted it. We started waling but soon my dad started having troubles. The deer's antlers were getting caught in the thick chaparral and it was dragging him down. He decided to cut the head off. He told me that when he cut it off, my fave turned a light shade of green. He made me carry the head the whole way. The action was repulsive. Carrying the head of an animal made we want to puke.
On our way down we didn't take the same route as we did on the way up. It would have been to difficult for my dad, with a deer on his back. The way he chose was too difficult for me. The undergrowth was really thick, and I didn't want to walk through it. I asked my dad if I could take a different path. He told me that I could but I had to meet him at the saddle in the mountain by sun high. I nodded my head and we went our different ways.
By this time clouds had started to roll in. It wasn't going to be long before it started raining. I started to go faster, and I was getting deeper in the forest. The wind was rustling through the trees, adding to the confusion. To my left I could see a wall of chaparral and to my right there was a maze of dead fall. Straight in front of me was a massive tree trunk laying on its side. The sky was turning a deep shade of grey and the forest was growing darker. I could just barely see camp at the bottom of the mountain. After about fifteen minutes I didn't know where I was. I could feel the fear prickling up my spine.
Time seemed to come to a screeching stop and my senses became alert. The first drops of rain passed my ears at the speed of a flower blooming. I was aware of all the sounds around me; chirping birds ruffling their feathers, the little stream of water trickling over varying tones of grey, black, red and blue stones. I could smell the aroma of soggy pine needles combined with the rotting three logs and dirt. I could see the different colors of the forest fading in and out as my vision blurred. I could feel the brisk chill tickling up my arms, and the rugged smoothness of the deer's antlers in my hands. My breath came in quick, painful jabs as my heart rate sped up. As I slowly descended to the ground, my mind seemed blank as well as reeling with thoughts and questions. I laid on the ground in the fetal position, clutching the head of the deer to my chest. The feeling of hopless and dispair overwhelmed me. What if my dad didn't notice I was missing until he was back ihn camp? What If something else found me fefore he did? What if he never found me? That's when I heard my dad. He was calling my name. Time sped up as I jumped up and started running in the direction of his voice, the deer head getting caught on bushes. I tripped over every stick in sight, and between that and the antlers in my hands, I was getting scraped up bad. When my dad came in sight a wave of relief flooded over me. He told me that I wasn't lost and that he wasn't mad, but I thought he was furious and those thirty minutes had terrorized me. I stayed with him all the way back to camp and I watched him skin the deer in scilence.
For the duration of the camping trip I was inseperable from that head. I felt that the head was a symbol of what I went through that day, and it had sentimental value. When it was time to go home, I had to put it in the back of the truck, but when we got home, I held on to it untill my parents make me get rid of it on trash day. My dad thought about getting it mounted for me, but he decided against it. I will never for get that day and the valuable lesson it taught me: even though I may not like the path my dad sets out for me, and it may not be the easiest, it is the best and safest.
Here is the reaction of the three students who read it:
Student One:
Student: "What if the paper is so detailed that I dont have any questions?"
Teacher: "Think of something!"
Questions:
1. Make the first paragraph longer
2. I cant think of anything else
Score: 4
Student Two:
Student: "Can I give this person a 4.5?"
Teacher: "No, its from 0-4"
Student: "But-"
Teacher: "No! Its from 0-4"
Student: "Okay, how about you come over here and read this paper and then tell me that I cant give it a 4.5"
Teacher: "I will read it eventually."
Questions:
1. Amazing paper
2. I love you
3. Will you marry me?
4. You're a great writer
5. Nice detail
Score: 4.5
Student Three:
Teacher: "You better give this paper some criticism bacause nobody else wants to!"
Questions:
1. Where is Grahm?
2. How old were you?
3. Nice details, but you could make a better background setting
4. The conclusion was weak, you could make it better
5. Uhh...
Score: 4
Scince nobody really asked me any questions that I coud use to make it better I asked my friend to do it. Here is what she said:
1. Have you questioned what your dad tells you to do since then?
2. Do you love your dad?
3. Did you get disgusting substances on you from carrying the deer head?
4. Did it ruin your clothes?
5. Why do you want me to do this?
What do you think of my writing?
