Ludo Millar Descriptive Writing Coursework Write a description of a time in your life when you were challenged or frightened The airless fog smothered me and the other climbers around me. The grey blanket of cloud was making me claustrophobic with fear. I had three layers of clothing on and yet I was still bitterly cold. I was shivering as if a giant was shaking me. There was a huge drop 100 feet down, to my left, and every step I took I thought I would fall to my end. I wanted to tell my Dad that he should shuffle to my left to stop me from falling but I couldn’t even communicate with him. I started to wonder what would happen if there was an emergency. I continued to struggle each step closer and closer to the top. I was trying to take large gulps of air. I knew the oxygen was in the air but it felt like my mouth was repelling it; as if there was a north pole in my throat and a north pole around me. I couldn’t seem to get the oxygen in. It had started to become like a cup of coffee in the morning, something I needed, something I craved. Every time I craned my freezing, aching neck to look at the high peak, it felt as if I was no closer. It was an almost impossible, Herculean task to reach the summit. It was like trying to climb a long, watery slide. The small voices inside my head were whispering to me that I could get there, but I was asking myself, are you taunting me? My head went down again as I decided I couldn’t turn back now. I had to go forward. I must keep going through this blanketed wilderness, despite the fact I knew the other climbers were in front and behind me, I didn’t even recollect them being there. It was just me and the ever increasingly steep slope. There were times when I would take three steps and then slide back one. Each time I thought someone would stop me but then I remembered they were all in the same tricky, precarious situation I was in. Head down. Eyes on your feet. Heart beating like a cold, icy drum. Ludo Millar Descriptive Writing Coursework Ludo Millar Descriptive Writing Coursework Weirdly, there was no smell. My nose wasn’t picking anything up. This was partly because my nose was so numb; it felt like a tin a frosty, purple paint had been spilt on it. Two colours I knew it shouldn’t feel like. I remember my Dad telling me, before we went up, that if any part of my body went a colour it shouldn’t go, I should tell him. I decided this was the time. I stopped my sodden, icy feet. I started to shuffle round to see if my father was anywhere near. My head started to turn as well. At this point, I realized my head was too far down to be able to recognize a person, so I lifted my head up: bad move… By lifting my head up, I wasn’t looking at my feet shuffling like a captured prisoner on ice. So I slipped. My feet went flying upwards and my head fell to the floor. I started sliding. I couldn’t help myself. My worst nightmare had come true. Just at the last point before the path ended and the cliff started, there was a man there or at least I could see a man’s trousers, almost staring at me. This was my last hope. I crashed into him. He fell over. But more importantly I was lying, still, like a scared and frightened fugitive: on the path. This was when help arrived. Firstly, there was a figure that looked like my Dad. I wasn’t able to make him out because my head hurt and I felt dizzy with adrenaline. Then, more people started to crowd round. I felt as if I was in a freezer; yet also on a doctor’s table being inspected. It was all too much for me. I couldn’t cope. My eyes switched off, my curtains momentarily closed. Luckily, I had only fainted. I woke up on the small hut on top of the mountain. I was still cold and tired but I didn’t feel scared or frightened. My Dad was standing over me and I even managed to feel a sense of achievement at having reached the top, albeit being carried there. Ludo Millar Descriptive Writing Coursework