The P6s did a story on a dilemma a few weeks ago. The three pictures: someone cheating in an exam, a knife and a diamond
Seemingly easy, but there are a couple of things to look out for.
1. You need to illustrate the dilemma clearly. At least a paragraph.
2. So what if there is a dilemma? How did you arrive at your decision in the end? This is crucial for the story to make sense. You can’t say be undecided and then suddenly make up your mind.
3. Almost everyone wrote either about cheating or picking up a diamond, which is really a yawn fest in the end. How can you be different?
One of the students Isabelle wrote a brilliant story. I am showcasing the story here because it stood out. The setting is very different from the rest, she illustrated the tension during the dilemma well, there was a hook in the introduction and a proper closure.
Read it and tell me what you think.
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Tears welled up in my eyes as I took the dagger out of my pocket. I looked down at him. I closed my eyes and exhaled. It was now or never.
“Are you ready?” I asked, with my heart palpitating in hesitation. Tom, my best friend, nodded. I clutched the rope as I looked up in determination. Tom and I were mountain-climbers and we had undergone at least ten years of training. Tom, who loves challenges, had yet again planned a mountain-climbing trip to scale ‘The Matterhorn’, one of the world’s most dangerous mountains, which has claimed the lives of over 500 people. Scaling this mountain was going to be arduous.
To safeguard ourselves, we tied a rope around ourselves together before starting the climb. I was to climb first before Tom. I gripped the rope tightly and started to ascend. The strong wind blew against us as we slowly, but surely made our way up the 4000-metres high mountain.
Just as I was about to grip on a rock, I felt an immense force pulling me downwards, followed by a ear-piercing scream.
Puzzled, I looked down. My mouth hung agape as I felt the colour drain from my face, as my heart dropped to the end of the valley. Tom’s feet were dangling in mid-air as he clung onto the life-saving rope.
Before I could utter a single word, a loud ripping sound suddenly filled the air. “What was that?” I asked, horror-struck. Both of us were now pale with fright as we realised what had just happened. The rope was about to snap.
This had never happened in any of the climbing trips we had ever gone to. Frenzied, I racked my brain for a solution. “Cut it!” Tom let out a firm order. Horrified by his idea, I hollered back, quivering as I repeated that thought in my head, “Are you crazy? Do you want to die?”
“It’s the only solution we have. If you cut it, you will still be able to survive! If you don’t cut it, we might both die!”
Another rip could be heard.
I had to decide fast. It was now or never.
“Just do it!” this hero shouted again. My eyes falterd with fear and my composed features were in a rise.
I bit my lip. I could not bear to do it. He was my buddy and who was I to decide if he lived or died. I looked helplessly at him as he nodded back again.
But…
I had to do it. I had no choice.
With clammy and trembling hands, I pulled a dagger out of my pocket. I gripped the rope. Tears welled up in my eyes as I sawed the rope. I had to do it, it was the only way for at least one of us to survive.
I sealed my eyes shut, as tear rolled down uncontrollably. I could not bear to watch. A blood-curdling scream echoed throughout. I cupped my face with my hands. How could I be so heartless? With an aching heart, I gingerly made my way down.
When I reached the base of the mountain, I noticed a pool of blood on the thick, white snow. Could it be? My heart throbbed wildly as I dug up some snow. Tears cascaded down my face at the sight of Tom’s limp body. He was covered in blood while his legs were twisted in an awkward position.
I immediately pressed my ear on his chest, listening for any sound of heartbeat. My eyes lit up. “It’s a miracle! He is still alive!” I screamed, feeling extremely elated. Quick! To the base camp! I thought. I made my way through the snow, heaving Tom behind.
“Someone, help! Help!” I hollered waving my arms hysterically upon reaching the camp. Doctors and nurses rushed out and carried Tom on a stretcher. They placed him in an ambulance. I hopped on, hoping that he would be able to make it.
I paced back and forth, anxiously waiting for the doctor’s statement. Then, a doctor walked out of the operating room, a solemn expression plastered on his face. “He is alive,” began the doctor, “However, he will be paralysed waist down for the rest of his life.” I gasped. My heart felt heavier than a stone. It could not be true…
I walked into the room. Tom was already awake. He sat upright, looking through the window. “I’m so sorry… if it was not for me, you would not have to sacrifice yourself.” I said as guilt overwhelmed me. “No, no it is not your fault. It was my decision, I told you to…” his voice trailed off.
I looked down.
No matter what anyone said, there would always be a sense of guilt in my heart forever. #friwritingtips from Study Room https://ift.tt/2TKplkH