Daily Archives: September 25, 2017

A frightening experience by Haya Aman

What frightens you? What may be scary for one, could be a bit of a joke for another. For surely, once in awhile we are forced into facing our fears—deal with situations we are not equipped to deal with.
December night, the cold air was merciless. Wind whipped at me. Tears, which I could not explain, ran down my cheek numbing my already frozen face. My unmade eyebrows knit together in distress. Deep lines were etched into my forehead.
Vision blurred by a layer of water—which I still can not explain. My slightly jagged, oval nails dug into the palm of my hands drawing blood.
I felt the blood in my ears pound and my heart beat erratically, loud enough for the world to hear. My knees were buckling. Maybe I was about to pass out? They knocked together and I could not tell if it was the fear or cold making me tremble.
I inhaled hugely trying to focus. I pushed myself to get a grip. I needed to react. I needed to speak.
Instead I stared back into his warm, pleading hazel eyes. They beseeched me to just say anything.
I felt my throat constrict. I wanted to yell out and cry. I wanted to run, I wanted to stay, I wanted to do anything but stare back at him like a lifeless robot.
I tried to choke something out but it came as a whimper. My lips quivered. I felt numb inside. My eyelids drooped and I wished to flee the scene; perhaps I wanted to clear my head.
Even though I was wrapped heavily in a beige coat and my favorite black Doc Martins I felt the cold seep into my bones. 
His warm, tan hands reached out to steady my cold, pale ones. The warmth of his touch sent me over the edge. 
A strangled, animalistic sob escaped through my blubbering, shaking lips. Hot tears cascaded down my face like a waterfall. 
I found my voice. 
I yelled till my throat was raw.
Over and over. My throat hurt and my eyes burned. My heart ached and my knees finally gave out.
I was a pool of clothes, tears and pain. A pool sounds too peaceful; I was a mess. A wretched mess sprawled across the snow.
I cried to a point of sickness. I emptied all the contents of my stomach on the clean, white snow besides me.
There. Now I spoilt that too.
All the while a familiar, husky, deep voice told me to calm down. Cooing random nonsensicals into my ear.
He might have been alarmed as to what he said to set me off. But I could not even register him anymore.
I felt the frosty snow hit the nape of my neck from the heavens above. My striped scarf now laid on the ground besides me. 
The tears dried up. I used them all. But I was no where close to done. I dry heaved. My chest was on fire and I stained the ground before me some more. 
No one would be able to save me from this. The strong fortress I have learnt to build around me came crashing down with one puff from the big, bad wolf.
I wish I could pretend I acted with responsibility and sense. Instead I ran. 
I ran like a coward being faced with all her greatest fears.
And I never turned back to face them.
Haya Aman

Q- Write a story (true or imaginary) based on the following lines: “And there was nothing he could do about it” by Ayzer Adeel




The air inside the police station was rather warm, compared to outside. James looked out through the window and noticed the sky, steel gray, behind the Big Ben. The only sounds he could hear were his pen drumming on his notepad, the light drops of rain dripping from the roof, and the horses and carriages stomping outside, along with the occasional shouts of grumpy men.

He had been waiting in the station for about an hour. They weren’t allowing him to see her. Mr. Alderman would be furious….If only he would be here instead of him. James’ grip on his pen tightened. ‘No’ he told himself. He had to see her. For Madeline, if not himself.

The door clicked open and Will walked out. His sharp emerald eyes were steady, though the loose way he stood reminded James he had been there for hours.

James got up and hugged his brother, though he wished he hadn’t. He could smell Caroline’s bitter blood on him. His unease must have showed over his face. Will moved, giving him room to see.

There was a white burial shroud hiding her till her throat. Her skin was so pale it looked nearly transparent, eyes closed. Her red hair was the only splash of color over her limp body. James felt his skin tingle and his eyes burn. He knew it wasn’t Madeline, but she looked so much like her that his stomach churned. He wasn’t even aware he had dropped his pen and notepad until Will handed them back to him.

“Her wrists,” Will indicated to the pale arms exiting the shroud. They were so white James had mistaken them for the shroud. He looked at them and noticed there to be two deep cuts painted under her palms. He stumbled out the room when he realized. It was suicide.

He turned around and found himself facing his brother. “James, take a good look. This is all I could do, I haven’t even told them you were related to her. You are only here for business, do not let your emotions cloud that-“ but he then noticed that he was talking to air.

He shook his dark head, “Give Madeline my condolences. You cannot visit the body again till the funeral.” He said and walked back in, shutting the door and all of James’ unanswered questions outside.


James could hear muffled crying outside of their room. He hadn’t predicted rain, thus his blue trech-coat was soaked, as if Madeline crying wasn’t enough to send shivers up his spine. He asked Lily how she was, but she was too busy grieving herself to offer much of an answer, although James knew Madeline hated the fact that women weren’t allowed into police stations. Will had tried, but it wasn’t possible. He couldn’t imagine how she must be feeling; first it was Paul, and she had lost her sister when she became mentally disturbed about the death of her husband. And now it was Caroline. She was forlorn.

He clutched the door knob. No, he thought, she still had him, and opened the door. His heart sank as he saw her. She was sitting in the corner of the magnificent room, her knees next to her chest and her arms over them, like a shadow. Her bloody hair spilled across her thin nightgown, and her face was glazed with tears. She looked wretched.

“I don’t know what to do James!” she cried, “First it was mother and father, and now Paul and Caroline? I’ve been trying so hard to get poor Ava to speak to me again and after two years she finally ate with me. Caroline was the one who handled these situations, her wisdom-“ she broke off, lip quivering.

“Madeline…” James kneeled next to her, “You will get through this,” he said, more calmly than he thought he could, “This will make you either weak, or strong. And I know you are not weak.”

She looked at him, her puffy brown eyes silently thanking him.

“I will have to be the next to inherit, won’t I?” She asked, gazing deep into James’ eyes.

He nodded.

“But I can’t!” she protested, “It was supposed to be Caroline, not me! I am not as wise or strong or responsible as her! Your family too lives in our home, can’t you, or perhaps Will? He is already the sherrif-“

“Madeline!” James shrieked.

“I understand that you are afraid, but there isn’t another option. Yes, Will and I will be here for you, however it is your responsibility and your treasures. The rules already give us a large share, but it is, in the end, yours.”

He put his hands in her cold, brittle ones. “I am here for you, never doubt that.”

She smiled weakly and buried her face in his shoulder. He thought not to tell her about Caroline’s suicide, not yet at least, she was already on the verge of breaking, another crack and she would be lost.


“Tell me about Paul Smith’s death,” Mr. Alderman’s office was always littered with newspapers and many other papers. Pale sunlight poured in from the window, you’d expect an editor’s office to look much like this: a desk, tea on the table, papers everywhere, and a pudgy looking man biting a cigar in front of you.

“Sir, you must understand. Although there is evident proof of suicide, why would they only occur in the Lost family? I believe they are murders, which would be appropriate to believe in as they are profusely wealthy. But what doesn’t add up is the time gap-two years-perhaps the murderer didn’t want to raise suspicio-“

“Tell me about the death of Paul Smith, Michaels.” He interjected, making James set his jaw.

“Three days before Ava Lost would get the check for inheriting of her parents’ money, the police officer went to the Lost mansion to make sure no danger awaited them. Nothing did. However, the next day, Ava had found her husband not breathing. The officers found that he died due to the consumption of the wrong medicine. Their maid, Lily, was inquired, who wasn’t anything but positive she had given him the right one.” When he was done, Mr. Alderman stroked his beard.

“Do these sound like murders to you? James Michaels?” he asked rather lividly.

“No sir. But if we delve deeper into this-“

“Even if the maid accidentally gave him the wrong medicine,” he interrupted, “we cannot accuse her due to the fact of it being a mistake. She has been their maid for years, could simply murder anyone at any time, but she didn’t. Now you go find out why Caroline Lost actually killed herself, okay?”

“Yes sir,” he muttered before turning on his heal and leaving.


After the funeral, James, Will and Madeline took a carriage home. They both lacked their usual alacrity.

“Why do you think she did it?” Madeline asked, which made James’ palm and neck sweat, though she didn’t look surprised.

She shrugged. “I saw her marks. Why do you think she killed herself?”

The carriage was quiet again. Madeline was in black mourning clothes, with her dark hair behind a poke-bonnet, a black spider web-like curtain shining in front of her dull eyes. Will and himself were in black coats.

“I believe it was her pregnancy.” Will said, eyes fixed out the foggy window.

Madeline and James were not as calm. “She was-what-since how long-pregnant?” they both blurted at once.

Will smiled slyly, “If only as many rich people were interested when I announced I was getting married. Yes, Caroline was pregnant. I visited her a few days earlier and she said so.” He said, his gaze now on Madeline, next to Will.

Madeline’s face turned the color of her hair, “But she never got married,” she whispered to herself.

After a moment, Will too whispered, “Fair is foul, and foul is fair.”

James didn’t know what to think. All of them stared out the windows. Icy wind was whipping the carriage, and somewhere the Big Ben rang.


Will had gone in the office and surprisingly forgotten his files.

“I’ll be right back, my dear,” he said to Madeline as he went in after his brother.


James heard muffled voices outside Will’s office and thought best not to interrupt his older brother.

He was worried. He figured out why Caroline had killed herself-could even report it-but something didn’t feel right. Secrets still weighed in the air.

Will had told him that Caroline was pregnant, but Caroline had never been near a man, including James. Her wisdom was popular. Paul could’ve taken the wrong medicine, but he was always very considerate. Ava wouldn’t be able to live without Paul, nor Paul without Ava, the entire family knew that. Could Lily have murdered both Paul and Caroline? And then have Ava go insane to have Madeline as her only mistress? It didn’t make any sense, though the only one who knew about their strong relations was the family and maids. And James’ family.

The air suddenly felt chillier. Will was there the night Paul had died. He suddenly felt sweaty. Will had also been with Caroline before she had died. James felt goose bumps over his whole body. Will also knew of how much Ava loved Paul. The inheritance. It would go to the appropriate heir: Madeline, and her family-his family.

James burst into Will’s office. His older brother looked shocked to see him. He had stripped off his coat and now he was in a dark waist-coat, a telephone by his ear.

“I’ll speak to you later Alexandra,” he murmured into the phone, though James didn’t hear any of that.

“You killed them.”

He wished he was wrong, he prayed he was wrong. Sometimes it was better to be wrong than it is to be right. Though Will gave him a smile. A smile he had never seen Will’s mouth form. A smile twisted and knit from cobwebs.

He stood up, and dragged his fingers across his desk. “I was rather hoping you wouldn’t find out. This just complicates things. Secrets are so difficult to contain, are they not?”

He spoke so casually, James couldn’t bring himself to breath.

“Why?” he choked.

“Money!” he said, spreading his arms. And a memory floated into James’ mind. If only as many rich people were interested when I announced I was getting married.

“It was easy, in case you’re wondering.” He continued, “Well obviously you’re wondering, you’re a writer. All I had to do was blackmail. I blackmailed Paul, that I’d kill Ava if he didn’t cooperate, and I told Caroline, I’d kill her twin sister. They couldn’t even report for help at the police station, I am the sheriff.” His tone was interminable.

He walked behind his desk. “I waited two years to blackmail Caroline because…” he said as he sat on his chair, “I wasn’t sure who, Caroline or Madeline, were to get the inheritance. But then Caroline’s wisdom became famous, and it was obvio-“

And that was all he heard him say, for a flash of silver caught his eye, and buried itself in Will’s chest, the thrower of the knife, Madeline, with and expression impossible to read.

James didn’t know what to think. His brother was crumbling, cursing, and his wife had tears streaming down her face. It was a lurid moment, and then, he realized something.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair.

After all, there was nothing he could do about it.

Write a story true or imaginary based on the following lines “and there was nothing he could do about it” by Maryam Baig



Jordan was just an ordinary high school back bencher, who, like most back benchers never really knew what was going on or when to keep their mouth shut. Most of whom at Liberty High envied the smart, popular, cool students but Jordan minded his own business and unlike the rest was a kind hearted, punctual backbencher.

The second Friday of every school year held the most anticipate party of the year. The popular kids started this ‘tradition’ three years ago when they thought a party of some sort would have had put some meaning behind their luscious summer tan and since everyone would still be under the blissful, warm, magical feel of summer they would join in hence, us back benchers were invited as well.

Jordan and his friends, Betty and Ned, were planning on not attending this year as they never really fit in with the rest of the students. The three were like three biscuits in a tin of cookies. On that note they decided to inform the others about their absence on Friday but the ‘leader’ of the group, Jason, (not that he was an actual leader it was just that he was older than all of us as this was his third time being a sophomore student thus everyone looked up to him) insisted that it would be the biggest party of the year therefore due to the piles and piles of persuasion and reasons to go, Jordan, Betty an Ned looked at each other until Betty finally said “alright, alright we’ll come just don’t expect us to have any fun!” while she rolled her eyes and walked away.

Last year’s party wasn’t really much fun for Jason. No friends, nothing to talk about and a horrible fixed reputation. All the popular students tucked away in a corner getting involved in under aged drinking, smoking and all other such things that were considered to be ‘cool’. All the other students’ in-between being popular and the back benchers had their own groups of at least six people scattered around the house and a few in the backyard playing games or gossiping. Leaving the back benchers to settle in the backyard doing God knows what. Everyone was just so preoccupied that nobody even realized it was a party and were so absorbed into their own requirements.

The night before the party Betty had bought loads of makeup, a white laced long-sleeved dress and even researched ‘conversation starters’ on google to try and fit in. Ned on the other hand, had hardly any interest in fitting in or be-friending anyone at the party. Jordan was fired up and excited and neither him nor could Betty get any sleep that night.

The party was held at Nick’s house, the perky student that practically knew everybody in town. He had a pretty large three story white-bricked house with a just as large backyard, a pool, two front gates with fancy statues standing on either end, a wide pitch black back gate and the whole house surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges shaped into different figures.

There were twice as many people at this year’s party than last year’s party and Jordan felt like maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea. There were fairy lights all over a disco ball in the centre of the ceiling, two jumbo sized tables filled with food and snacks a DJ in the right corner, multi coloured lights flashed in all directions, a photo booth in the left corner, the latest hits playing on the highest volume that the neighbours filed a complaint twice! Everyone looked spectacular, even Ned who seemed to be having a good time. Everyone took pictures holding mandatory red cups laughing and the photo booths were never empty. Jordan had an amazing time although he had close to no friends; he found that at the party nobody really cared who they were talking to as long as there was someone listening.

It was past Jordan’s curfew and so he headed home slightly tipsy. He missed a red light and crashed into another car. Jordan slowly started to process what had just happened. His car was perfectly fine ignoring the dent on the number plate. On the contrary, the blue Honda he crashed into was entirely destroyed. Pieces of glass were scattered throughout the street and as Jordan could recognise the face of his victim he heard the sirens of a police car and an ambulance. Jordan had accidentally killed Nick, the host of the party he had just attended, the nice boy who knew everyone and therefore everyone would know Jordan had murdered him and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could think about was what explanation would he give to his parents, Betty and Ned. The pale complexion of Nicks’ face made the spots of blood pop which would haunt Jordan forever.

What was done was done. The police confirmed that it was all an accident and that he wouldn’t be sentenced to jail. Jordan knew that it wouldn’t be easy for everyone to forgive him for what he had done but he had to live with the guilt and fact that a life had been taken with his own hands.




AO2: Zimbabwe grapples with hyperinflation by Maryam Baig


The following passage is an extract of a news report published on the January of 2009. In this extract is suffering with a rapid uncontrollable currency devaluation causing prices of goods and services to ‘skyrocket’ within a short period of time. The thoughts and feelings of the residents have also been discussed in this extract in the form of dialogues.

The title of this extract ‘Zimbabwe grapples with hyperinflation’ tells the reader that the loss of value in the Zimbabwe dollar will be discussed in the article. As a result the reader feels excited and is curious to find out what will happen/is happening to the country.

The author of this article is the news reporter. Since the reporter is not mentioned anywhere, it highlights the appeal and persuasive power of the article.

The genre of this extract is a newspaper report. Newspapers are used to provide people with information, which includes what events are occurring close to the readers’ whereabouts or overseas. For example: “many families are unable to afford a square meal.” Due to the loss of currency value, families do not have the means to buy food. The reader feels sympathetic to the issues being raised and this evokes strong emotional responses.

The theme of this extract could be ‘economy’, ‘finance’ or ‘devaluation’. For instance: “Zimbabwe grapples with hyperinflation.” Zimbabwe’s economy is suffering deeply and people are left without jobs or food nor is it any safe to live in such a place. The reader is left feeling sensitive and to some extent concerned.

The purpose of this extract is to inform or to present an issue as it is a newspaper report similarly, as stated above. For example: “Zimbabwe dollar virtually ceases to be legal tender.” The Zimbabwe dollar is no longer considered as a currency due to its impractical value. The reader is left satisfied as it has been clearly informed about the event.

The intended audience of this passage are special interest groups, people who read the newspaper such as adults or the elderly. For example: “economic crisis with unemployment running at more than 80%” adults are more concerned about conditions close to the above than children or young adults would ever be. However, it does evoke a strong emotional response to the reader especially supposing that the reader is a resident, citizen or local.

The style of this passage is informative as it is a newspaper article. For example: “goods and services are charged in foreign exchange.” Because Zimbabwe’s currency no longer holds any value everything is charged in the currencies of other countries. As a result the reader feels that it is aware of what is happening around the world and is therefore satisfied.

The tone of this passage is serious and uneasy. For instance: “many families are unable to afford a square meal.” The author sounds concerned and pensive which makes the reader sympathetic to the point creating a highly emotive image.

The attitude of a passage is the words and details the author selects which are shown to be formal, concerning and cautious. For example: “as the worthless Zimbabwe dollar virtually ceases to be a legal tender.” This can manipulate the reader to take notice of arising issues.

There is a limited amount of punctuation in this passage. Excluding capital letters, full stops, commas and apostrophes there is an appearance of a couple of dashes at the end of the passage. For instance: “I don’t know if I’ll have a job at the end of the week – so many businesses are closing down.” This creates a smooth flow of words for the reader to read moreover pleasing to the eye as well as creates an image in the readers mind.

There are quite a few simple and compound sentences in this article. For example: “one US dollar was trading at this date at around 25 billion ZW$.” This is an example of a simple sentence. “Zimbabwe is grappling with hyperinflation officially estimated at 231 million per cent and its currency has virtually lost its value.” This is an example of a compound sentence. The order of points affects the readers’ response.

There is a sparse amount of figures of speech in this passage. For example: “people are cannibalizing each other.” This is an example of a metaphor and an idiom which means that people are stealing from each other. “But now in the throes of an economic crisis.” Zimbabwe faces a sudden downfall brought on by a financial crisis and is now suffering. This is another example of a metaphor. This provides a picture in the readers’ mind that evokes all the senses, can reinforce a point without repetition although often witty it highlights a point.

There is one subheading under the main heading in this passage titled as ‘living with inflation’. Under this subheading are the thoughts and struggles of the locals and residents presented through dialogues. In total there are five different points of views from five different people of five different age groups and designations. This is one of them: “student: when you go to the bank and there’s a long queue, and then when you want 10 million they can only give you 2.8 because there’s not enough money in the bank.” As a result of the hyperinflation people nee way more money to afford things that they use to purchase at a lower price. This can subtly manipulate the reader, often almost sublimely. Identifying these can highlight the appeal and persuasive power of the article. With the help of dialogues the reader can better understand the situation at hand.

To conclude it is believed that the author has been successful in conveying his or her message to raise the readers’ awareness of Zimbabwe’s economic situation. With the use of various techniques such as figures of speech, a sub heading, punctuation, equally sized paragraphs and a clearly conveyed message the newspaper reporter has made this a great read for the readers.

Ao2 by Muhammad Ahmad Irfan


This extract is taken from the interview between Georgie Henley (Lucy) and James McAvoy (Mr.Tumnus), who acted in the film, The Chronicles of Narnia, as Lucy and Mr.Tumnus. Georgie was ten years old when she played Lucy. This interview is based on the scene where Lucy meets Mr.Tumnus and befriends him and goes to his cave for tea. She later finds out that Mr.Tumnus is kidnapping her, but because of the bond they had made, Mr.Tumnus lets Lucy go, and this signifies the theme of friendship, which is the same message the writer is trying to convey in this extract. His message is to show us the beautiful bonding between the two, in the novel as well as in real life. In the novel, Lucy simply happens to bump into him on entering this new world and just like that she finds herself strolling in the woods with him like long lost friends. As said by Georgie “They’re almost like long lost friends” (Line: 3) and “There is no point in having long lost friends if you don’t go into tea with them.” (Line: 5) This signifies the relationship between Lucy and Mr.Tumnus. On the other hand, the two actors get to know each other and discuss they’re personal feelings and experiences with each other in the interview. This is illustrated when Georgie gets a nostalgic feeling and recalls the time when they had fun, “And you became more faun-ey, more goat like.” (Line: 29) She uses a good pun to express her feelings, and we get to know that the tone is quite casual and informal, which signifies the fact that the two are rather comfortable with each other, thus highlighting the friendship between the two. The reader feels the warmth of friendship being conveyed by the writer. The following line brings out the message of a close friendship bond that the writer is trying to convey. “And you got so much more comfortable by the end.” (Line: 27). What James is trying to say in this line is that by the end of the filming, Lucy and James felt more comfortable with each other and the atmosphere, and acting together turned out to be fun and candid, even though Georgie missed her friends and family back home. The same camaraderie is happening in the novel when James says “When they meet each other it is fast friends immediately.” (Line: 9). Another line further proves the message the writer is trying to convey, “That was my favourite thing, watching you grow. You grew inches during the film.” (Line: 36). The line shows James reminiscing the time they spent together. In conclusion the writer made a brilliant effort in conveying the theme of friendship, and making that bond unforgettable.


How does the writer convey his message? by Hassan Raza


The title of this extract is Georgie Henley and James McAvoy. The extract is an interview between the actors Georgie Henley and James McAvoy.

The style of this extract is descriptive as it is an interview between two people.

The tone is informal as they are using contractions: they’re, there’s. They are also feeling quite friendly with each other. “if you don’t go into tea with them”. Line: 5. As it is saying don’t go   into tea with them, language formal it does not make. Both James and Georgie are speaking      informaly towards each other. “It’s quite unviable.” lines : 5-10 . They are again using friendly language and contractions. Than it becomes a little more friendly and humorous . “and you become a little more faun-ey ”.line 29 .now they are making jokes with each other and becoming more friendly . “he’s already growing a beard ? see”. Line 34-35. It’s becoming more humorous as Georgie is making some jokes. “no , he’s too scruffy ”. here it’s quite informal. They are using the word scruffy and not untidy. “I made $350 for WWE – not the wrestling fund   ! The wildlife fund ”. The language is informal and she is making it more funny .

The content of this extract is the interview , which is happening between the two people.

Theme of this extract is Friendship. “That was my favorite thing watching you grow. Line 36. They are showing kindness and good behavior towards each other. “Actually they don’t curl under like Mr.Tumnus”. They are talking  in a humorous manner . “being away from my friends and family”. Over here it becomes a little personal , but it’s caring .

The target audience of this extract are children and reporters. As it is a talk show or interview between two people.

The attitude of this extract is quite friendly , cheerful and caring . “ we got more mature, really”.

The punctuation of this extract is not so good as the language is informal as it uses contractions.

Conclusion : The language all over the extract was informal and the theme was friendship and Georgie and James seems to be good friend.