”Nobody’s perfect”, as the saying goes. Write a story about someone who experiences this in the hard way, before they understand it. Choose a good heading (don’t forget the heading!)
- 450-800 ord (Jeg har 842)
- Skrift størrelse: 12 (ok)
- Linjeavstand 1 ½ (ok)
- “The dark side of the moon”
- Innledning: En jente som tenker gjennom hvor vanskelig alt har vert i det siste. Ser ut av vinduet. Månen skinner inn i vinduet og lager svake skygger i rommet. Hun dagdrømmer ofte om å være på månen og ikke måtte tenke på noe. Bare sitte der. Hun tenker at før var alt så greit, men nå, etter hun fikk ny stefar har alt blitt forferdelig. Hun husker da hun kom hjem med karakterkortet for julen.
- Hoveddel: Går litt tilbake i tid. En hendelse med stefaren. Han blir veldig sint fordi hun (stedatteren) ikke har gjort noe bra nok. For eksempel veldig dårlige karakterer. Han slår henne.
- Avslutning: Beskrivelser av at hun kjenner på det blanke knivbladet. Månen forsvinner bak en sky. Det sies aldri direkte at hun tar selvmord. ”Så ble det svart” skjer aldri. Det siste som skjer er at hun svever ut av rommet og mot månen.
- Først skinner månen = hun lever. Så forsvinner den bak en sky = symbol for at hun dør.
- Det at hun svever ut av rommet, mot månen = hun dør.
- Innledningen og slutten er skrevet i nå-tid. Hoveddelen er et tilbakeblikk.
- Starter med at hun tenker på månen og slutter med at hun tenker på månen = sirkelkomposisjon.
- Blue curtains = blått symboliserer sorg og ro.
The dark side of the moon
The room is covered in weak shadows. The dark is surrounding me, but still I can se the drawer in the corner of the room. I want to open it and take out the knife, but I’m not doing it. I can se the big, white moon outside the window shining through the clear glass. The moon is always there. It never fades away. I wish I could be there, on the moon. Looking down at the earth, sit there and never have to think again. I daydream about the moon a lot. And I wish that I never had to stand in front of George and explain myself ever again. Never hear insulting words or feel punches straight in my face. To never be left humiliated at the floor, crying.
I remember the time I was happy, the time before mum met George. We managed just fine, but mum had a wicked idea that she had to get a husband. I don’t understand why, she didn’t need a man! The day she met George, everything changed. She never had time to care about me anymore; everything she thought of was him. It didn’t take long time before he moved in with us, and after a short while they married. It was the happiest day of her life, but not exactly happy for me. Now is it as if he’s holding us in an iron grip, never letting go.
Mum do still seems happy on the outside, but I don’t believe she is as happy as she pretends to be. Can’t she see how terrible I’m doing because of him? I particularly remember one time when he beat me. He was displeased with me again. I used to manage fine when I got bad grades, but he always made me realise that I was much worse than I thought, and that I should be ashamed. “You think you are perfect, but you’re not! Why don’t you understand that?!” he used to yell at me.
“Jessica! What the hell is this?!” I heard him shout in the hallway, and his steps thundered in to the room. “What?” I muttered and turned around. George stood there glowing of anger, waving a paper in his hand. “THIS! You’ve got 2s and 3s, but not a single 6!” My stomach twisted when I saw the writing on the paper. He was holding the paper with my term marks (fant ingen bedre oversettelse til karakterkort). I had managed to keep it hidden for a couple of days, but now he had found it.
I got god grades before mum married George, but when he moved in with us I found it very difficult to concentrate and I never had the energy to do my homework. “Yea, ehm… It didn’t work out very well this term” I said, and wanted to sink in to the black leather couch. “Stand up and explain this to me!” He stood in front of me like an angry bull. I could se big veins on his forehead wind like rivers on a map. I stood up and I knew what was coming.
Suddenly I felt an intense hit on my left cheek. It was with such a strength it made me tumble to the ground. I stared down on the floor feeling an intense anger grow inside me, but I had deserved it. I had got very bad grades, so I needed to be punished. I slowly straightened up, before I could feel a new punch in my face. I felt down on the floor and could feel an intense pain in my nose. I felt blood drip down in my hands. “You have to work better next time. If you don’t I will force you!” he roared before he walked steadily out of the room. He left me alone on the floor, up beaten and humiliated.
The anger tears inside me when I think of it today. I still remember the pain burning in my face. The window is slightly open and it is winter outside. Suddenly does a cold breeze meet my worm skin, and I wake up from daydreaming. I look at the drawer in the corner of the room again. I feel a burning temptation to open it and end it all. Without thinking I walk over to the drawer, open it and pull out a small, but very sharp knife.
The bright moonlight shines on the knife blade and it reminds me of sun glittering on clear water. Suddenly a cloud covers the moon entirely and the room is covered in darkness. I sit down on the bedside and start to daydream again. Once more I imagine that I am sitting on the moon, looking at the earth. Suddenly I feel that I am lifted off the bedside. I see the window opening in front of me and the blue curtains flutter. I glide through it, surprised but very calm. The cold wind carries me away. I finally drift away form everything, towards the glowing moon.