May/June 2010 English A Examination
It was the middle of the mathematics class. Mrs
Taylor our teacher suddenly collapsed and
sprawled unconscious on the floor. It was
Write a story which includes these words.
She did not move. She never slept during our scheduled naptime, so why would she sleep now.
The blood continued to run, as Corey, the oldest boy in our class ran to his mother, the Principal. Madam Collins ran into our class, but stopped abruptly at the door.
"Oh dear me," she whispered.
This story is based on Question 5 above.
I had never been to a funeral before, as at the age of six my parents thought death was too difficult a topic for me to grasp. I've heard of them though, dark, long trails of cloth glided along the bodies of weeping women who covered their red eyes with black netted hats. Then, they have a big party; I know this for myself because I stayed home when my grandpapi died when I was four. I was told to stay in my room, but the sound of the steelpan floated through my window. My granpapi was a pan teacher you see, and from
then, I associated death with black clothes and party. What was sad about a party?
It was in the middle of the Mathematics class. Mrs Taylor our teacher suddenly collapsed and sprawled unconscious on the floor. It was terrifying. The chalk she held in her hand scraped against the chalkboard making her incorrectly tell us that 2+3= 1. We sat there. None of us, being the naive kindergarteners we were,
understood this dire situation. Mrs Taylor's pretty hair lay knotted around her pretty face and blood seeped through her pretty pants. "Mrs Taylor! Mrs Taylor!" we finally cried.
She pulled her cell phone from her...