Descriptive Writing of an Abandoned Building
Tuesday 3 rd February 2015"There it stood. I had walked past it several times and I had never seen it. It terrorised me. The idea that someone could have lived in this very building. The walls. So tall and never-ending, encircling me as if I was the victim of an ambush. I then noticed almost forcefully, the empty space where a window would have stood, where shattered, sharp remains of glass still lie, threatening me like someone putting a knife at my throat..."
This is the beginning of the descriptive writing I wrote as a practice for my IGCSE exam, answering the following question: "You come across an abandoned building you never knew existed. Describe its exterior and surroundings before giving details of how you enter. Describe the atmosphere inside and everything your senses experience as you explore the building".
Click "Read more" if you are interested in reading my whole answer.
This is the beginning of the descriptive writing I wrote as a practice for my IGCSE exam, answering the following question: "You come across an abandoned building you never knew existed. Describe its exterior and surroundings before giving details of how you enter. Describe the atmosphere inside and everything your senses experience as you explore the building".
Click "Read more" if you are interested in reading my whole answer.
"What could have once been a lovely rose garden was now a hostile thorn bush, and the swings where children used to spend moments of joy and innocent childhood were now creaking in the most haunted way... What terrified me the most was its isolation. I was alone. Uncovered. Exposed to an unknown edifice that stared at me in return. As I lifted my head to defy its insubstancial stare, something caught my eye. I had not made the observation until now, as the infinetely long walls made it almost impossible to see: there was no ceiling. Where had it gone? This question made me less afraid of the building and more curious as to what had happened to it.
I walked towards the entrance door. From there, the whole structure appeared to be monstruously massive. I truly thought the feeling of inferiority would cease when I entered the building. It did not. From the inside, it looked as big as ever before, for there were no floors or ceiling. Four endless walls and a staircase leading to the cold foggy sky. It was almost as if it were a message, telling me that it was all over... but was it?
The dust, cobwebs, and graffitis on the walls and corners brought me back to reality. I was not the first to experience this unwelcoming, macabre pile of bricks. But yet the remains of furniture that lay disorderdly cluttered on the floor reminded me of death, for this had once been the home of many happy lives and therefore full of life itself. And it was all gone. replaced by rats, spiders, and their cobwebs, dirt, dust, fleece and trash. And trash. How terribly sad, to be calling what had once been a cosy, comfortable sofa, trash. For it was ripped, dismantled, and stained. Abandoned...
Newspapers that gave the date of a hundred years ago - barely, for they were covered in dust. Boxes that read "FRAGILE" where one could identify broken pieces of jars, plates, and glass. There were no answers in there, simply the smell of rot, the sound of creaking, the touch of a rough surface, the sight of a horror scene, and the taste of regurgitated food. For I felt I would certainly throw up. It was too much for me to bare.
As the cold wind rushed against my face, I fled out of that distorted dwelling and decided I would never walk past it again."
I walked towards the entrance door. From there, the whole structure appeared to be monstruously massive. I truly thought the feeling of inferiority would cease when I entered the building. It did not. From the inside, it looked as big as ever before, for there were no floors or ceiling. Four endless walls and a staircase leading to the cold foggy sky. It was almost as if it were a message, telling me that it was all over... but was it?
The dust, cobwebs, and graffitis on the walls and corners brought me back to reality. I was not the first to experience this unwelcoming, macabre pile of bricks. But yet the remains of furniture that lay disorderdly cluttered on the floor reminded me of death, for this had once been the home of many happy lives and therefore full of life itself. And it was all gone. replaced by rats, spiders, and their cobwebs, dirt, dust, fleece and trash. And trash. How terribly sad, to be calling what had once been a cosy, comfortable sofa, trash. For it was ripped, dismantled, and stained. Abandoned...
Newspapers that gave the date of a hundred years ago - barely, for they were covered in dust. Boxes that read "FRAGILE" where one could identify broken pieces of jars, plates, and glass. There were no answers in there, simply the smell of rot, the sound of creaking, the touch of a rough surface, the sight of a horror scene, and the taste of regurgitated food. For I felt I would certainly throw up. It was too much for me to bare.
As the cold wind rushed against my face, I fled out of that distorted dwelling and decided I would never walk past it again."
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