@idontknow
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- Joined
- Feb 11, 2021
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- HSC
- 2022
I am in year 11 and i do standard English tomorrow i have a English assignment which consist of writing a text towards a prompt and then reflection. The problem is i have written the text but not reflective so i need major help for reflective if someone could help me out plz.
Prompt
Literature is where i go to explore the highest and lowest places in human society and in the human spirit
Text(imaginative)
Dear Mother,
Hope you have been well. I have recently completed training with the other black folk in Tuskegee and now am awaiting my first deployment.
The blaring siren echoed through Isaac’s quarters, jerking him back to reality. He dropped his fountain pen and promptly swept the half-written letter under his pillow. Despite the rigorous training, his heart still beat against its cage, trying desperately to escape. A mixed rush of panic and excitement washed over him, he feared it was time for his first call to combat.
I am not aware if you have heard the news about Salim. It has been two weeks since I last heard from my dear friend. He has not returned from his mission. It was only a few months ago when we had gone barefoot down the dirt road to get supplies for home back in Coralville. My hopes of seeing him again fade day by day, yet what eats away at my spirit is that there has been not one mention of him by the white Lieutenant. It is low of our society to let our black heroes fade into history with such ease.
Isaac scrambled to put on his uniform and rushed to stand shoulder by shoulder with the remainder of the 477th Bombardment Group. The memory of his hometown friend still stung like a fresh wound in saltwater. The lieutenant's imposing figure towered over Isaac and his crew. The lieutenant’s white face wore a stubborn, disgusted look as he began to scold the group for being late. The lieutenant’s voice stunned like the white glare of the Morning sun. With their heads faced towards the muddy ground, the group absorbed the lieutenant’s usual rant before he gave the final brief for the current mission.
It is pitiful to observe the mistreatment of my fellow brothers and I, even while we fight for the freedom of our great country. To stand with our heads bowed to a ‘superior’ kind while serving the same purpose. Nevertheless, there is no need to worry mother, for my spirit stands as strong as the poles bearing our great US flag in Washington.
Shortly after the briefing, Isaac staggered behind his group towards his Curtiss P-40 Warhawk. His mouth was parched and his heart threatened to leap out of his ribcage. Fear lingered in the back of his mind. What if he did not return? Who would look after his mother? What if he was the next Salim?
As the familiar sound of the engine flutter returned, Isaac's eyes widened with excitement and the rush of adrenaline pushed him upright into his seat. He expected soaring high above the ground to offer him a refrain from the struggles of his daily life but the reigns of his repression continued to bring his thoughts back to Earth. It was a battle he could not escape.
How has everything been at home?
I hope you have been taking good care of yourself mother. I pray the winter will not be too harsh in Coralville for it makes livelihood quite a struggle.
On the edge of the horizon, Isaac could make out an array of black objects pointing to the sky. He squinted his eyes and they slowly came into focus. It was the enemy artillery. Zapped with fear, Isaac continued to steer his aircraft towards the objective. His hands trembled on the joystick. Subduing his fear, he carried on accepting his fate.
I will be back soon mother. I promise.
The siren continued to blare through the empty sleeping quarters. The Ink from this morning's writing seeped into Isaac's pillow.
Prompt
Literature is where i go to explore the highest and lowest places in human society and in the human spirit
Text(imaginative)
Dear Mother,
Hope you have been well. I have recently completed training with the other black folk in Tuskegee and now am awaiting my first deployment.
The blaring siren echoed through Isaac’s quarters, jerking him back to reality. He dropped his fountain pen and promptly swept the half-written letter under his pillow. Despite the rigorous training, his heart still beat against its cage, trying desperately to escape. A mixed rush of panic and excitement washed over him, he feared it was time for his first call to combat.
I am not aware if you have heard the news about Salim. It has been two weeks since I last heard from my dear friend. He has not returned from his mission. It was only a few months ago when we had gone barefoot down the dirt road to get supplies for home back in Coralville. My hopes of seeing him again fade day by day, yet what eats away at my spirit is that there has been not one mention of him by the white Lieutenant. It is low of our society to let our black heroes fade into history with such ease.
Isaac scrambled to put on his uniform and rushed to stand shoulder by shoulder with the remainder of the 477th Bombardment Group. The memory of his hometown friend still stung like a fresh wound in saltwater. The lieutenant's imposing figure towered over Isaac and his crew. The lieutenant’s white face wore a stubborn, disgusted look as he began to scold the group for being late. The lieutenant’s voice stunned like the white glare of the Morning sun. With their heads faced towards the muddy ground, the group absorbed the lieutenant’s usual rant before he gave the final brief for the current mission.
It is pitiful to observe the mistreatment of my fellow brothers and I, even while we fight for the freedom of our great country. To stand with our heads bowed to a ‘superior’ kind while serving the same purpose. Nevertheless, there is no need to worry mother, for my spirit stands as strong as the poles bearing our great US flag in Washington.
Shortly after the briefing, Isaac staggered behind his group towards his Curtiss P-40 Warhawk. His mouth was parched and his heart threatened to leap out of his ribcage. Fear lingered in the back of his mind. What if he did not return? Who would look after his mother? What if he was the next Salim?
As the familiar sound of the engine flutter returned, Isaac's eyes widened with excitement and the rush of adrenaline pushed him upright into his seat. He expected soaring high above the ground to offer him a refrain from the struggles of his daily life but the reigns of his repression continued to bring his thoughts back to Earth. It was a battle he could not escape.
How has everything been at home?
I hope you have been taking good care of yourself mother. I pray the winter will not be too harsh in Coralville for it makes livelihood quite a struggle.
On the edge of the horizon, Isaac could make out an array of black objects pointing to the sky. He squinted his eyes and they slowly came into focus. It was the enemy artillery. Zapped with fear, Isaac continued to steer his aircraft towards the objective. His hands trembled on the joystick. Subduing his fear, he carried on accepting his fate.
I will be back soon mother. I promise.
The siren continued to blare through the empty sleeping quarters. The Ink from this morning's writing seeped into Isaac's pillow.