The following essay is a real GCSE English Language essay for the imaginative writing section that was awarded a grade 9. Credit to @tolga_e02 for writing the essay in his 2018 GCSE English Exam for Edexcel.
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Grade 9 Answer
I was at the villa shared between me and my entourage often in my home nation, Turkey, during the summer holidays. But this was no ordinary day in the summer vacation, no, this time, the stars of Turkey’s night sky aligned for me.
I was usually outside, but tonight, I felt inquisitive. I was in the hallway for our rooms, staring face-to-face with a doorway to the room of one of my most special companions in the entourage, her name was Edjer – she was rather special and incredible, a few years older than me as well. She was the first girl I ever saw with a bit of lean muscle but was still beautiful with a bit of a vivacious character at times, and she was very taciturn, with quite an austere attitude. She had an aura of intrigue around her, and I conversed with her a lot, which allowed me to delve slightly deep into her convoluted past. Although we were so close, the villa was the only area that managed to slice the ties that bound between us. There was one place that I had never visited in the villa: that room, her room – somehow, I hadn’t been able to step foot in it, and to my knowledge, nor had many others -the entrance always covered by the oak doorway, it’s contents concealed like a safe in a Swiss bank. But after meeting these people for so many years, I couldn’t bear the suspense any longer. Just what was behind this door? We all had custom rooms for ourselves, so what could this one possibly contain. I probed my vicinity
to ensure that the coast was clear – I looked to the left; I looked to the right – the hallway was empty, and so it happened, I swiftly entered unchartered territory.
The room was a void, black as sin, a space of the unknown. I tried my luck navigating the walls to find the light switch with my hands, gently making sure they didn’t crash into a shelf or collide with a sharp object. I soon felt a bulge as my arm outstretched to my far left, and my conscience green-lighted the sensation. Jackpot! There it was, the light switch! Immediately, I exerted extreme pressure to switch the light on – to my dismay. An enigma twice the brightness of the morning sun shone from the centre of the ceiling and glared straight into my eyes, a pang was definitely endured for a split-second. That was no normal LED. Why so bright? After recovering from the shell-shock of the light’s inconceivable brightness, that made anything around it on the ceiling look like the solar system, I saw the scope of the room. It was rectangular shaped, lined with white, bare walls. It was disappointingly innocuous for someone that was adorned by such a vibrantly colourful history. To my left was a cream-coloured study desk and a large bed for two, it looked king-size, but Ito this day can’t put my finger on it. It also came with a wardrobe that continued the trend of the plain colour scheme, stale as ever: white. This came along with an air conditioner that was switched off. On my right was a vast, spacious quarter, with one thing – a black punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The poor object looked like it had seen better days as if it was standing on its last two legs from the beatings it had gotten that comprised of barrages of relentless kicks and punches.
I was a juvenile brat, so I decided to see how springy her mattress was for fun. I traversed the room to my left across the pristine floor of white floor-boards – my big advance towards the bed was weirdly cumbersome, and I was starting to feel slightly tense for the implications that regarded anyone seeing me. The bed was very low to the ground, but the mattress was still unusually very painfully stiff and firm. How could anyone sleep on this?
The first thing that my initiative instructed me to do was look under the bed to identify the possible culprit, and when I did,
what I discovered amazed me completely…
The cause was a book. Not just any book though, it was a book with a size that had a towering, overpowering presence it imposed around all the smaller books that paled in comparison to its size. It was red in colour, very polished and had the edges all sharp. The pages were pure white and carrying their fresh, natural scent. It was better than new! I looked at the cover to find out its publisher, and I was incredulous, it was an International Mensa book! Yes, the book of that selective society, the one that was reserved for the most attitude and adroit minds across the globe.
What? How did I never know of this? One would have thought having that intellect would be a bragging right! I couldn’t believe it! I flicked and skimmed through the pages, glancing at mathematics problems that looked like ancient scrolls from Egypt to my pitifully stupefied eyes. I was now not perturbed by any guilt that may have shackled me before in the event of being caught due to how awesome this discovery was. There was also little disturbance, clearly, everyone else was on the balcony at this time. I was extremely invested by this find, it was like a magnum opus. This trait had been oblivious to me for so long!
I was pleasantly and comfortable enjoying my little prying exercise until I heard footsteps – which made my heart skip a beat – the stride gradually became louder, and LOUDER! Drat. If anyone came into this room, I’d be done for, history, my number would be up! Sadly, my vicissitudes dictated that someone did come into the room, and the gap between the bed and the ground was too small for me to conceal my body, which was now plagued with shame. It was Edjer.
There was no way to cut out the blackthorn that had unexpectedly blossomed in my heart when I heard the voice. I heard my inevitable, undignified, sorrowful fate speak down from that unique, distinguishable, idiosyncratic feminine tone.
‘Do you mind?’ Said the voice, it was Edjer. Her voice was sharp, and she was concise.
I felt as if I was having heart palpitations. My eyes were fearfully staring into the scintillating crystal orbs that were hers. I was in trouble, very deep and inescapable trouble. I had found myself in a peculiar predicament only someone of my idiocy could. Trying to squirm my way out would be like wading through treacle, especially given how ruthless she could be at times. But I tried to cover my ridiculous actions and immense fright with a calm and calculated facade of solemnity.
‘Of course.’ I replied. ‘How come you never told me about this?’ I asked, with unbridled pseudo-curiosity, pointing at the Mensa book.
‘Just put the book down, you don’t need to know!’ She said fiercely, her voice piercing the air. She looked apoplectic with rage. I looked down to see a clenched fist. The air started to get tense, the heat generated from the friction of minds made the air conditioner redundant. I didn’t want a fight, and even if I did, I wouldn’t survive in hand-to-hand combat – not against her.
I gently placed the book back into the darkness underneath the bed. It now seemed like a poisoned chalice to me at this point. After that, I took a cautious step back, my weight was now shifting onto my back leg, and I was struggling to balance my movement. I was too angst to control myself. I asked why she kept it so confidential, this was clearly not something to be so clandestine about – but there was no reply. Nothing. Just a still, cold reaction.
She walked out of the room, seething in silence, and ordered that I follow suit. I was warned that the repercussions would be unimaginably terrible should I have revealed it to anyone. I didn’t – I kept my end of the deal, the oath, and I will always keep it, we were friends.
Although, I, to this day, can’t fathom it. What’s so bad with intelligence, especially that intelligence? There must have been something deeper, for I just cannot see a fallible in this attribute. It’s been a while since I was caught in this minuscule whirlpool of drama, but my contemplations still never meet with an answer, and as far as I am concerned, the probably never will…
How to Achieve a Grade 9 in GCSE English
To find out how to get a grade 9, consider viewing our article on how to achieve a grade 9 in GCSE English Literature & Language