Storm at Sea by Veda Surapaneni, Year 8, Presbyterian Ladies College

Veda used a drawing as a starting point for this story that needed to be descriptive, emotive and complex.  Veda was encouraged to employ a range of literary devices to aid imagery including use of the five senses, adjectives and adverbs.  The piece was completed at Sum of Us as a homework task.

Storm at Sea

I looked up at the rapidly darkening sky.  I shivered as a cold gust of wind shook the sail and the waves turned into a torrent of water.  I started to head back to the cabins, away from the stinging sea spray and that’s when a deep shudder went up through my body from the deck and water started to pour into the cabin.

‘Rocks!” I shouted, ‘there are underwater rocks!’

But no-one could hear me over the pounding waves.  I searched around frantically looking for something with which to help, but there was only chaos and people were running around shouting and throwing lifeboats overboard in an effort to escape.

I pushed my way through the crowd and managed to grab hold of a life jacket and make my way back to the bow.   I searched the ship behind us for signs of damage, but I saw none.  Then, I did the silliest thing ever, I jumped!

In a last ditch effort to save myself, I gulped in air gasping and spluttering water out of my mouth.  Numb with cold from the water, I slowly started to paddle my way towards the ship when the lone figure I had seen on the deck started moving towards the undamaged ship.

I reached the bow and started shouting up for help.  No-one could hear me.  I swam around to the side and tapped frantically on the portholes hoping somebody could hear me; still nothing.  Starting to panic, I tried breaking the glass.  Fortunately a small crack appeared and I hit harder and the glass shattered allowing me to climb in, scraping my arm on some of the glass.  I run up to the deck to find the man and when I see him still waving, I make my approach.

‘Have any of the others tried to come to my ship?’ he asks frantically.

I shake my head as he grimaces and asks  my name and age.

‘Jaeden Smith, 13,’ I reply.

He nods and tells me that I am safe and that everything will be okay.  I doubt that my family was on that ship.

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