In-depth analysis of a story by Ali Hashim, AS Level Student at ROOTS School System(Ex-Student PakTurk International School)

“Being a seasoned doctor it took me no more than a few seconds to perceive what might have caused Angeline’s death.”

The body was brought in by my assistant and laid in the dark room. As soon as I was free, I had a look at the body. It was a young woman of around twenty-five, five feet six inches tall with blond hair. Her ID card showed that her name was Angeline McGregor.

Being a seasoned doctor it took me no more than a few seconds to perceive what might have caused Angeline’s death. She had been poisoned. The autopsy that I performed the same evening showed that the poison used was arsenic.[A1] 

The police had stopped the investigation, considering the death to be natural, but my report suggested the otherwise and when I gave it to the chief inspector, the case was reopened with renewed keenness.[A2] 

I, also being [A3] a detective, as well as the forensic expert of the police department, was allowed to look into the matter. I knew that only a couple of chemists in the city sold arsenic, so I asked my assistant to make and bring me a list of people who had purchased arsenic in the last few days.

A single look at the list gave me the lead I was looking for. It contained the name of the husband of the deceased, Anthony McGregor[A4] . But I needed more proof than a mere receipt before I could lay my hands on him. Nevertheless, I asked him to come to the police station and interrogated him.

He told me a story that, if true, meant that he was totally clean. [A5] The way he spoke with a great conviction in his tone made me doubt my instincts. I took his photographs and showed them to the chemist who had sold arsenic to Anthony, but to my utter surprise, the chemist told me that this person had never been to his shop
COMMENT

 [A1]Very good and plausible opening. Sets the scene and situation strongly. I am intrigued so far!

 [A2]This is implied just by the fact that the police have reopened the case.

[A3]It is implausible for someone to be a seasoned doctor AND a detective – both require lots of specialization.

[A4]To avoid later confusion, introduce him here.

[A5]What was the story? It would help the reader here to at least get a summary of it, otherwise we feel like the narrator is holding back information

I asked the police department’s best artist to come and make a sketch according to the chemist’s description. The sketch showed a young muscular man with a look of pure venom and hatred on his face. I put the sketch into the department’s computer and was soon granted a satisfactory result. The young man was Sal Malcini, a person who had a record of dealing in poisons and even using them.

I asked the sheriff to get him arrested as he was our man. I was startled upon interrogating him. I never knew a new surprise awaited me. He had been paid for the job. This was the only information that we could extract from him for a long time. But after we used the third degree interrogation on him, he soon gave away. He told us that it was Angeline’s ex-boyfriend, Mathew Lestrage, who had paid him.

Confronting Mathew proved to be a much more troublesome job than the others, as he tried to run away. But due to his lack of knowledge of the area, he ran straight into me. Mathew told us that he loved Angeline very much but she had betrayed him, and had married “that American guy”. Naturally, this infuriated him. He said he was extremely depressed, to the extent that it led him to taking revenge upon her. He’d planned to kill her, and succeeded in that soon after.

He was given a life sentence.

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 COMMENT

[A1]STRENGTHS: This story does a great job following detective style crime fiction. The ending is satisfactory because the point of these stories is to catch the person and uncover what happened in a mysterious crime.

WEAKNESSES: Often times the narrator withholds information from us. During the interrogations I hear summaries of what he’s doing and that he’s gotten information, but not what information he’s attained. It’s important for us to see what the narrator is seeing, and where you are showing only what’s necessary, provide a brief summary.

SUGGESTIONS: Another big issue is the implausibility of this man being both a doctor and detective. Both require lots of specialization. How can you work as both when the demands of both jobs require you to be exclusively available? Often times in writing fiction we will do things like this to help us create various elements of the plot, so it’s important to be aware of it, to step back and ask these questions. In this case, you might want to consider retelling this story by having the narrator work alongside a team of detectives, or be part of the investigation because it was his friends in a former line of work.

Rewriting on a story by Chaudhry Abdullah Amir (PakTurk School) who attempted at describing human feeling over a sad demise of a loved one. Well done, Chaudhry!

I was too fragile to say anything...

It was a warm night of July. I was sleeping in my room when suddenly I heard my mother shouting, “wake up son), she said. I didn’t give response to her, then she cried loudly . “She’s dead” she said hysterically. “Who’s dead” , I said tiredly. “Parveen” she cried . I was stunned , I woke up and sat on my bed putting my head in my knees, everything stopped for an instant. The fan in my room and the noise of the hens outside the room. I felt that the roof will fall on me. My head was too heavy like someone has put a lot of weight on it. I couldn’t breath and then something from inside of my body came out through my mouth and I shouted with the full power that I had “No”, I cried. “She can’t be, she promised me to meet me today.” She can’t be dead.

One warm night in July, I was sleeping in my room when suddenly I heard my mother shouting.

“Wake up, son!” she said. I didn't respond until she cried hysterically, “She’s dead!”

“Who’s dead?” I asked, still tired.

“Parveen.”

Stunned, I sat up in bed and put my head between my knees. Everything stopped for an instant. The fan whirred in my room and hens clucked outside. I felt like the roof should fall on me. My head was too heavy, as if someone had put a lot of weight in it. I couldn't breathe, and then something tore from inside my body to come out of my mouth as a shout with all the power I had. “No!” I cried. “She can’t be, she promised to meet me today.” She couldn't be dead.

I jumped from my bed and ran to the street . Her house was in the next street. I was running bare – footed wiping the tears off my face . I couldn’t feel the rocks on the road and finally I reached her home and saw a group of people in the garden. There were children and old men, some of them sitting on chairs, and some of them standing and gossiping about Parveen. I heard crying women inside. I ran to the main door and entered the house. I saw her lying on the floor in white dress. Beside here was her mother peeno and her elder sister Shaista.

I jumped from my bed and ran into the road. Her house was the next street over. I was running on bare feet, wiping the tears from my face. I couldn't feel the rocks of the road. Finally I reached her home and saw a group of people in the garden. There were children and old men, some of them sitting in chairs, some of them standing and gossiping, saying Parveen’s name. I heard crying women inside, so I ran to the main door and entered the house.

I saw her lying on the floor in a white dress. Beside her was her mother, Peeno, and her elder sister, Shaista.

I sat there near the door, watching her lying on the floor. I couldn’t feel anything. I was just having her memories that she was the most intelligent student in our class. We share our lunch and give examples to others that sharing is caring. She played Baseball and every single person wanted to have autograph of this girl. I was lost in nostalgia when someone touched me on shoulder. She was soothing mother who took my hand in hers and said slowly “Don’t cry son , all of us have to die one day”.

I sat there at the door, looking at her where she lay on the floor. I couldn't feel anything. I could just remember: She was the most intelligent student in our class. We shared our lunches, giving an example of the others that sharing is caring. She played baseball, and every single person wanted to have her autograph.

I was lost in memories when someone touched my shoulder. She was a soothing mother, who took my hand in hers and said slowly, “Don’t cry, son, all of us have to die one day.”

I was fragile and couldn’t say anything. My feet were bleeding because of running as much fast I can, but I was shocked by my best friend’s death and I almost didn’t feel the pain. The only person, who really understood me, was no more. My mother took me home but now I wasn’t me, the Abdullah of my family. The people in the street called me insane ….

I was too fragile to say anything. My feet were bleeding from the run over here, but I was so shocked by my best friend’s death that I couldn’t feel the pain. The only person who really understood me was no more.

My mother took me home, but I wasn't myself any longer. I was not the person my family knew as Abdullah. The people in the street called me insane…

Contributed by: Chaudhry Abdullah AmirO' Levels Final YearPakTurk International School, Islamabad

Rewriting on another story, paragraph by paragraph. As expressed before, some of my students happen to be at the stage where writing correct English is the main concern, let alone other important features of writing. Again, although I will not obsess with perfecting story hooks, a story needs to end. If it doesn't, then it is not complete. Something like this, for example, provides an ending. It’s my cute improvisation, one of many possibilities. (The writer's (student's) name is being held).

A Wintry Day

I woke up on a Sunday morning, from the deep warm sleep, as Hasan yelled cheerfully. He rushed straight to my bed and removed the most comfortable object of my winter life; my sheets and the quilt. That made me furious but I found myself guilty later when I was told by the little creature that we had a plan and today was fixed for that plan.

I woke up on a Sunday morning from a deep, warm sleep to the sound of my brother Hasan yelling cheerfully. He rushed straight to my bed and removed my sheet and quilt—the most comfortable objects of my winter life. That made me furious but I felt guilty later when I was told by the little boy that we had a plan and today and remembered my promise to him the night before.

Holding my yawn, I straightened to the bathroom door. Water could not flow through the top-hole. It had frozen maybe. Switching on the geyser, I headed to the front door. Me myself standing in the middle of the porch, snowy flakes showered onto me. The patterned winds blew from each of the directions, sending chills down my spine.

Suppressing a yawn, I moved to the bathroom and tried to wash my sleep away. Only, I discovered that the water wasn’t flowing through the tap. Perhaps it had frozen? Switching on the shower and finding that it, too, was not flowing, I headed to the front door. Once I opened it and stepped out onto the middle of the porch, I found myself surrounded by snowy flakes, blown in all directions by the wind, sending chills down my spine.

As not to get too cold or simply the breakfast was ready, I got myself back into the house. Sitting besides the fire after a hot bath, it was so pleasant. We gathered our stockings and of course, snowman's stockings too. Locking the main door, I exclaimed to my family, "lets go".

I rushed back into the house. Hasan and I lit the fire and sat beside it. It warmed the house and soon I found I was able to have a hot bath. It was so pleasant. After we had eaten breakfast, we put on our warmest stockings, ones perfect for moving in the snow.

Opening the front door, I exclaimed to my family, "Let’s go!"

There we were, on a small hill near the town. From there we could see that as if the whole town had drowned into the sea of ice. Crunching the snow beneath our boots, we advanced to the place where it was a little denser.

Our house was situated on a small hill not far from the town. From here, it appeared that the whole town was submerged in a sea of ice. We all rushed out into the snow, to a place where it was denser. I just loved the sound of the fresh snowfall crunching beneath our boots.

People from all groups of ages and stages were there, gathered on that slightly steep slope. Children were busy making their snowmen but most of them, especially boys, were preoccupied with the skirmish of snowballs. They would scream if they were successful in shooting somebody. Ducking and swinging around, some were trying to save themselves from the storm of snowballs.

We weren’t alone. People of all groups and ages were out on the hill, gathered on the slightly steep slope. Children were busy making their snowmen but most of them, especially boys, were preoccupied with the skirmishes of snowball attacks. They would scream each time they were successful in shooting somebody. Ducking and swinging around, some were trying to save themselves from the storm of snowballs. Only a few succeeded.

Not all the people were in the snow however, some sat next to the fires they had built and some were in the cafes nearby, enjoying every sip of their hot coffee. To keep ourselves busy too, we joined the game of snowballs. Later we got retarded and found a flat place to sit upon and build a snowman. At last we had some hot coffee too. In the evening, when we reached home, surprised to find out that the main gate's lock was broken.

Not all the people were in the snow however. Some sat next to the fires they had built and some were in the cafes nearby, enjoying every sip of their hot coffee. To keep ourselves busy too, we joined the game of snowballs. Later we got tired and found a flat place to sit down and build a snowman. At last we had some hot coffee too.

It was a perfect day, and I was happy Hasan had pulled me out of my bed. The only trouble that day, though came when we returned home. The main gate's lock was broken. We were so worried that someone had robbed our house, except we found nothing wrong. There was only one thing, which Hasan found as soon as he rushed in to investigate.

“A snowman!” he exclaimed. And indeed, it was the best snowman I had ever seen—and the best surprise to end the day.

See the improved version of a story by Wasiullah Khan of class O' Levels at PakTurk School Islamabad. Not just comments, I've made up my mind to rewrite some of the stories so to show my students improved versions of their writings which will soon be published in book form. Wasi is intelligent and respectful; smiles beautifully that makes you like him immediately. Currently, he's working hard to improve his grades before he appears in his Cambridge Exams which are around the corner.

But before I could pick up the phone, it stopped ringing…

I peered out the window and saw that the whole neighborhood was covered in a blanket of snow. Snow flakes fell slowly from the sky and childrens were seen gathering the snowballs in an arsenal which indicated that they were getting ready for battle as this was now a battlefield. I had a severe headache for which I took some painkillers to ease the pain. I slowly approached the kitchen to make myself some hot chocolate when I got a call from my friend Jenna. Before I could pick up the phone the call had ended. I kept trying to reach her through the phone but no luck as the reception was really bad. My devils' workshop was indicting that something might have happened to her. As her only friend, it was my job to make sure she was safe.

When I peered out the window, I saw that the whole neighborhood was covered in a blanket of snow. White flakes fell slowly from the sky and children gathered snowballs in a great arsenal—they were getting ready for battle.

I didn't stay at the window long; I had a severe headache and the painkillers I’d taken earlier weren't kicking in. I slowly approached the kitchen to make myself some hot chocolate when I heard the phone ringing. The caller ID showed me it was from my friend Jenna. But before I could pick up the phone, it stopped ringing. I called back, but had no luck reaching her, since the reception was really bad. I feared something might have happened to her. As her only friend, it was my job to make sure she was safe.

Jenna lived 2 blocks from my home. I took my car keys and headed towards the car but to my luck the car's battery had died. Walking was the only option. As soon as I took one step out of the house, the little rascals who were snow fighting now showered snowballs at me. Struggling through the showers of snowballs I managed to escape.

Jenna lived two blocks from my home. Fetching my car keys, I headed towards the car in the garage, but when I tried to start it, I found the car's battery had died. This day just couldn’t get any worse!

Walking was the only option now. As soon as I took one step out of the house, the little rascals who were fighting in the snow began to shower me with snowballs. Struggling through their projectiles, I managed to escape.

I was at Jenna's doorstep and rang the bell. "Oh hi John, what brings you to my humble abode?" She said after opening the door "You called me, remember?" Replying her in a surprising manner. "I accidentally dialed your number instead of my sister Jane"

I finally arrived at Jenna's doorstep and rang the bell.

She answered the door, looking surprised. "Oh, hi John, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"You called me, remember?" I replied.

"Oh. I accidentally dialed your number instead of my sister Jane. Everything is fine."

At that moment, the thought crossed my mind to gather snow and throw a snowball at her. Instead, I smiled a very wide smile, then went home to have my hot chocolate. It turned out that the fresh air was exactly the remedy I needed: my headache was now gone.

Wasiullah Khan
O' levels Final Year
PakTurk International School Islamabad