P6 English Composition model: Being punished

Bullies and bullying are common characters and themes that students like to use in their compositions. This is understandable because this topic is ever present in children’s lives, be it through books, the media and sadly for some, real life experiences.

Before the March holidays, I gave my P5 and p6 students, the topic above as their weekly composition. While many chose to write on the theme of bullying, descriptions varied and so did the students marks.

Writing from the point of view of the bully can already be somewhat challenging. However, describing yourself, your victim and the act of bullying someone, requires a good set of vocabulary and a dramatic flair.

I chose this composition from my student due to the length of her composition (done within the 55 minute time frame) and the amazing effort she put in to describe her character and the events that unfolded. I ‘bolded’ her good phrases.

P6 English Composition model on the theme of being punished

Being punished

                As I sat hunched in my jail cell, I stared forlornly at the locked steel cage. I was trapped behind the shiny bars surrounding me. Weary and hollow-eyed, I groaned softly and lay down reluctantly on the hard, flat platform in the cell. My thoughts were sad and troubled as I recalled the reason I had ended up there.

                It happened about a few months ago. I was a notorious bully and thief then. I was cold and cruel and loved to pick on the smaller kids, often stealing their money and hurling horrible insults at them. I enjoyed doing this and had been doing this since I was younger. Somehow, I was never seriously punished for my bad ways. Hence, I thought that I was fortunate. However, little did I know that it would all end one day.

                On that nightmarish day, I was hanging around the staircase at a secluded spot of my school as usual, smoking my cigarette. Waiting intently, I took frequent puffs of my cigarette, keeping a watchful eye on the stairs, for principal Jiro or a kid. True enough, after a few minutes, a scrawny boy came by my way. He was short and thin, his glasses big and thick and he emitted an abnormally studious vibe that surrounded him like a thick, black fog. In his small hands, he held a thick, gigantic book which he was reading intently, his eyes fixated on the pages. He was a weak, nerdy kid, perfect  for bullying! I could not believe my luck! I grinned madly, like a cheshire cat, my pupils dilating as I rubbed my hands with glee. A vile and vicious thought, floating around in my mind, whispering evil suggestions.

                I crept forward, my black Nike cap shielding my glinting black eyes. I discarded my cigarette and turned slowly back to the boy. He was completely oblivious to his surroundings as he stared at his book, eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

                “What an easy prey!” I thought smirking as I prowled towards him, like a wolf stalking a deer. When I was close enough to him, I grinned wickedly and pounced, slapping my big, rough hands on him, pinning him to the ground. The boy glanced at me, his lips quivering in fear, stifling a strangled scream. I glared at him right in his eyes before bursting out into sadistic laughter that sounded worse than a crow’s screech. I looked down on him, making the most snug grin I could make before lifting up my fist. I felt that he was ready for a real beating.

                I brought down my fist and struck  the boy’s face. A shrill, girly scream escaped from his quivering lips as he lay on the stone floor helplessly. I felt a thrill of delight. It felt good to hear him scream. I then proceeded to pound on him like I was pounding on a door. In less than a minute I had bruised his eye, broke his tooth and made his nose bleed. The boy was openly crying now, his body limp on the ground. At that moment, I was so smug and proud of myself that I momentarily forgot my surroundings. I lifted my fist, now smeared with metallic blood, about to strike the boy’s face again.

All of a sudden there was a dreaded roar, “Joturo Kuso of class 6E! What do you think you are doing? Come here right this instant!”    

I froze, turning around slowly and saw a red-faced infuriated principal Jiro. My face turned ashen white as I gulped in fear.

                Without a word, principal Jiro grabbed my arm roughly and dragged me to his office. He, then sent the boy to the hospital. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he returned to his crimson armchair and settled in comfortably. Fearfully, I looked up at his face and my blood went cold. He was giving me a dark, ominous glare and his lips were drawn back in an angry snarl. He was silent for  a moment before he started talking.

“Jotaro, this is the umpteen time you have committed an offence. You might be thinking that I might give you a mere caning that I had done previously. However, I think that you need to learn a real lesson. One that may help you change your ways.”

He sucked in a deep breath and continued .”The boy wants to charge you for grievous hurt. You will need to be held at the police station for investigation.”

Upon hearing those words, I gasped in horror, my blood turning to ice in my veins. What will become of me if I were to be found ‘guilty’? I would be locked up in jail or the Boys Home.” I stifled a scream.

                True to his word, I was handed over to the police and was taken to court and I was sentenced to jail and punished for 2 years.  I had only spent three months in that jail cell and had a long time more to go. Blinking, I was jolted back to the present. Rubbing my head, I blew out a long sigh and vowed never to allow myself to be put into this horrifying cage again. This punishment was the worst I had ever received but it made me determined to change my ways.