Yet another ‘blast’ by Umar Khan of class O’ Levels final year! Same is the setting here: a snowy day weather condition. Even though amount of vocabulary related with snowy day is not as per our requirement, yet see the way he engaged us right from the first word he dropped onto the answersheet; the power of dragging us along till end; and a startling ending leaving you flabbergasted. A big thumb up, dear Umar! We all wish you an A* grade in your Cambridge Exam.

What she said next struck me like the blade of a sword......

I glanced out of the window and ran my gaze through the world now covered in a carpet of white. It seemed as if the earth had buried itself under blankets trying to resist the cold which had now taken over the world.  My breath clouded the window. Kids gave life to the dead world. They darted here and there, kicking mounds of snow into the air. Small and delicate crystals could be seen falling from the sky.

Knowing that today would be the perfect day, I quickly grabbed the ring and slid it into my pocket. The door creaked as I slowly opened it. My eyes pained as a sudden gush of light sprang into the room. After a brief moment, I stepped out onto the porch.

My heartbeat sped up when I saw her and thundered in my chest. She sat silently on the bench. Her face was as radiant as always. The first time I had saw her, purchasing chocolate bars at the local store, I knew it was love. She did things to my heart that I had never experienced before. My steps got heavier as I approached her. My fingertips rubbed against the silver ring resting in my pocket.

Seeing me, she abruptly stood up. Snow lightly showered on us. The chilly breeze pounded my face. Before I could say anything, she started to cry. Tears slid down her cheeks. I couldn't anticipate what was happening. A part of me wanted to rush to her and take her into my arms, while the other part made me stay where I was- dumbfounded. "I have to tell you something ," she whimpered. A chill ran up my spine as I heard the words- there was pain in them. What she said next struck me like the blade of a sword, piercing through the heart. She uttered, "I'm carrying a child."

Umar Khan
O' Levels Final Year
PakTurk International School & College
Chak Shahzad Campus
Islamabad

A short story with feedback. The student's name is being held.

I peered out the window and saw that the whole neighborhood was covered in snow. Snow flakes fell slowly from the sky. (If it’s description with which you preferred opening your story, then add a bit of more to depict snowy weather condition to be able to sound mature in writing.) I had a severe headache so I took some painkillers to ease the pain. I went (Use descriptive verb here. The one you applied is talkie verb) to the kitchen to make some hot chocolate when I got a call from my girlfriend (avoid mention of girlfriend since it’s odd in our society and religion). As I was about to pick it up, it ended. I tried to call her but her phone was off which was odd.

I took my gun with my badge and headed towards the car but unfortunately the car’s battery had died. (Taking gun is too abrupt here. You need to develop solid background first as what was that something that really made you feel so very aggressive. Justify it to make it sound maturer.) My mind was ticking like a time bomb (Why? How did you sense and decide that the girl was essentially in trouble? We need enough evidence first) and no painkillers could stop it. Mona’s place was a block away from mine. I had no choice but to walk. The snow was very thick and it was difficult for me to walk. I was already struggling through the snow when it started to snow very heavily (Avoid repeating the same word, that too in such a narrow space. Show variety in vocabulary.) It seemed as if a blizzard was about to come. I was almost there when I saw a man walk into mona’s house (‘Mona’ is proper noun. Write it with capital initial: ‘M’). I took my gun out and started to walk faster because I couldn’t run in this blanket of snow. I finally reached her house.

As I entered her house I shouted “Mona!” and that’s when something struck my head. It was mona (again with capital ‘M’). She struck my head with the baseball bat (why?) and that’s when that man came (Use descriptive verb here to show the manner of his coming). The man pointed the gun at me. He cocked the gun and said “Goodbye john” (Use capital ‘J’). Mona kissed me one last time and that’s when I jumped out of the window and disappeared in the snow. The snow was merciful to hide me. (Why did the man point that gun at you? Who was he? What was the situation like? Why was Mona alone at home? We don’t find a single word about her family? Justify her being alone there. The ending leaves many questions unanswered. Provide us an improved version of the story, and of course with a title as well.)

O’ Level students are fully clear on this point that when getting hold of a topic for story writing, and intending to use first person pronoun ‘I’, they can pose to be anybody, like a mom, a baby, a shopkeeper, an elderly person or a young man etc. See the way Muhammad Abubakar Mian seized the topic, triggered/prompted his imaginative explosive to cause this ‘big bang’ you call ‘a short story’. Intensely engaging right from the first word he dropped onto the sheet, the story is compellingly believable. With crispy, punchy sentences most naturally gushing out like a water spring, and well-connected like pieces in a chain, the story itself unfolds all information, the background, the present scenario and a likely future. You’d feel as if you were watching this incident with your own eyes. It’s like a Hollywood movie scene.

Muhammad Abubakar Mian was asked to generate a short story using the following two sentences anywhere in the text.

“Blood was still oozing out of his nose…”

“I had never expected her to betray me like that.”

Blood was still oozing out of his nose as I slammed him against the wall and continued to beat him to a pulp. His tattered shirt was red all over, but no amount of bleeding would stop my onslaught. My fury of punches continued to rain down on him as I blocked out the screams of my wife. She pleaded me to calm down, but that was like asking a bull to stop and wait as an entertainer tied his shoes - impossible. In retrospect, I’m not exactly sure where all that intense energy had come from, but come it did, and when it came, it was violent. 

The stranger had touched my wife in the privacy of my home. I use the word “stranger” lightly as he was a stranger to me but might not have been a stranger to these walls. My wife could have let him in on a number of occasions. This was a possibility that I did not want to believe, but was forced to at least consider. I had never expected her to betray me like that. These thoughts raced through my mind as my one-sided offensive continued. 

There was one thought that resonated throughout my body more so than the others: ‘This was my fault. It was my neglect that had led my wife to what she has done.’ She was not to blame, and neither was the man at the receiving end of my fists. The latter was only taking advantage of the former’s unfortunate situation. The thought of this magnified my anger ten-fold, but it was through this anger that I realized the man before me was now motionless. His whimpering had subsided and his body grew cold. The next sound I heard was that of a police siren going off somewhere in the distance as two men in blue jackets kicked down the door.

"Letter to the Principal" is Muhammad Abu Bakar Mian's answer to the question on directed writing in the Grand Test held in February this year (2014). It was found an excellent piece of work. Other students from O' Level stream can have exposure into 'HOW TO DO' a formal letter by concentrating on both the content and quality of the text here..

Letter to the Principal

Dear Sir,

I am filled with great pride and honor having been selected for recommending this year’s “Student of the Year” award. This is a high task as one must be a good judge of character in nominating another student for the certificate. For better or for worse, I am quite the social butterfly and am well acquainted with almost everyone in our school. It is only after many hours of consideration that I have come to choose Muhammad Ali as my nominee for this award.

Muhammad Ali deserves being the student of the year more than anyone else for countless reasons. He serves as an excellent role model for not just his classmates, but those that he surrounds himself with outside of school. I can say it with confidence that if you ask anyone about him, you will hardly hear anything negative. Ali has worked hard all his life – which is something that is really starting to pay off as he nears graduation and is about to enter college.

My nominee’s academic record is spotless; Straight As is the name of the game here. Apart from this, Ali is heavily involved in extra-curricular activities taking place in and around the school. He led the school’s Lego Robotics team to victory this year, and helped secure first place in the district-wide debate competitions. While serving as our basketball team’s captain, he has also managed to find the time needed to be part of the Student Council. His role in the Student Council has been especially important since he has helped resolve much of the bullying problems that were present earlier.

I am not nominating Ali on the basis of his academic achievements and extra-curricular participation alone. It is my firm belief that more important than any of this is his gentle and very caring nature. While he is not afraid to speak out and challenge the status quo, he has also never delayed himself in helping other individuals as much as possible. This is something I can personally vouch for as he has spent a good portion of his free time tutoring a few of my friends and I in math and physics.

I hope I have done well in portraying Muhammad Ali as the perfect candidate that he is and I pray that your make the right decision.

Yours faithfully,

Muhammad Abubakar Mian

O’ Level Final Year

PakTurk International School

Islamabad

Here you are dear readers. Yet another attempt at story writing by one of our budding writers - Sohaib Zahir of class O’ Level final year. The story begins with a tense moment, and hence is engaging enough. Inhabitants of Ohio need to stay alert!

Imagine you woke up and found an alien in your neighbor’s backyard. Write a story.

"Dear residents of Ohio state, our safe and beautiful city is under attack from some unknown creatures". Security State Minister, Mr.Paterson, announced with dejection all over his face. This petrifying news sent a shivering layer of fear through the inhabitants of Ohio.

"Wake up! Wake up! “Emily shrieked in my ear. "What's wrong!? For God's sake, let me have an uninterrupted nap" I mumbled elusively.

"Liam! Our country has been ambushed by some aliens, but you are busy relishing your nap" she stuttered in a scared sounding tone.

“Whaaat?” I kicked open my eyes.

Soon, Emily and I were busy packing all necessary stuff like clothes, food items, a warm quilt etc. Emily hurriedly fed Harry and I started my ole battered forerunner which was anxiously waiting for us in the garage to fly us to safety. At first, the gigantic ford was reluctant to start but after trying for innumerable times, eventually, it rumbled into life.

We loaded our ford with all the essential stuff. There screamed Emily "Liam, go pick your armlet up. It will come handy against those dreadful aliens"."Damn! You really are making me confused."

I came out of the truck and slammed the door shut. As I reached the store in the backyard, and was about to pick my moldy armlet rifle, our neighbor, aunt Angeline bawled stridently and I rushed into her kitchen.

There with the ugliest look I had ever come across in my life stood a weird looking creature which was busy examining the kitchen's stuff that he had not seen back at his own place.

He had scary eyes, curly messed up hair all over his sturdy naked body plus he had knife-like sharp teeth which were pointing out of his mouth like pianos keys. His scary muzzle was adorned with anger and thirst for human blood.

"Bang........." The bullet shot out of my rifle pierced through his nude body, hurling him onto the squeaky wooden floor of aunt Angeline's modern kitchen. The boating alien was dead at that very instant.

I huddled the corpulent corpse lying there from my instinctive love for humans and care for humanity. Then I bolted back to my truck where Emily and Harry stood, petrified.

From the emergency radio broadcast, I came to know that a ship will be leaving for Mexico City in a few hours time. A whole of hope shone upon us. Emily motivated me, "Come on Liam, we can make it". I kicked the accelerator hard and the ole forerunner caught pace, though it sounded as if it was crying out of pain and asking me for mercy.

In about an hour, we reached the port. Scared and wounded people from different parts of the state were rushing in. Confused and noisy, everyone was trying hard to climb the safety first. The vulnerable, poor administration was trying its level best to save as many as was humanly possible for them.

I took Harry and Emily. We got into a new yacht of some rich businessman with all necessary accessories stuffed into it but they were at that moment useless for victims since they were in a terrible hurry to get to safety. The yacht was laden with people crying out their hearts for their lost beloveds.

After an hour, the yacht shifted through calm waters, finding its way through murky mist which was hanging in the air with frustration and cruelty laden in it.

Almost the whole city was devastated, for thousands of innocent people were heinously killed. There was chaos all around.

What will happen next? No one knows for sure. Will God be merciful enough and give humans another chance?

Lives of the inhabitants of Ohio are under severe threat. Nevertheless, they seem determined to take the bull by its horns. Will government and all the people around the globe respond to the excruciating cries of our people...?

Written by:

Sohaib Zahir

O' Level Final Year

PakTurk Schools

Islamabad

Sohaib Zahir

‘The Dino Surprise’ has really come as a BIG SURPRISE. By the by, I had least expected someone would go for this uphill task, that is, giving topic number 04 a try (from that list of 30 topics showing variety of prompts we’ve already published here). Not only Muhammad Abubakar Mian turned out to be the one who took the lead, but also (see for yourself) he has fully proven his imaginative ability. A touch of humour is already a regular characteristic of Abubakar’s writings. I’m sure you’ll enjoy this stuff.

The Dino Surprise

My alarm clock sprang to life exactly at 9:30 A.M. The previous night’s rest seemed to have done little for my body, as I was still feeling very lethargic. Shaking off the sleepiness, I crept out of my bed and headed for the bathroom.

I had gone just a few steps into the hallway, however, when a thunderous roar threw me against the wall. The entire house began to shake violently. Human instinct took over, and I braced myself for an earthquake. But that earthquake never came. The shaking subsided as quickly as it had started, and soon enough all was back to normal. With my heart still palpitating to a furious rhythm, I made my way to the living room. Anxiously walking past the fireplace, I peered out the window.

It was at this very moment that I had the surprise of my life.

Standing just a few feet from my window, there stood a dinosaur. I was flabbergasted. It took me quite a few seconds to get back to my senses. Taking note of its stout tail and extensive neck, coupled with the distinct shape of its head, I immediately recognized it as being a Brachiosaurus. Perplexed by the enormous beast and what it was doing in my time period, I knew I had to get a closer look. Without a second thought, I slipped into my sneakers and ran for the backyard.

The Brachiosaurus had a mesmerizing gray coat, something that I could not appreciate from behind a glass pane. Standing just a few feet away from it now, however, I began to question my lack of better judgment. Is it really safe to be standing next to an animal that weighed several tons more than me, and was considerably larger? The Brachiosaurus seemed to be mostly calm; it stood relatively still while scanning the horizon. But what was it looking for? Suddenly, the Brachiosaurus let out a piercing cry and ran right through the picket fence.

The Earth trembled under the beast’s heft, and tossed me to the ground. Laying on my back, I caught sight of a Tyrannosaurus Rex lurching towards me from across the street. I attempted to scramble back up onto my feet with as much vigor as my body could muster, but all efforts proved to be futile. The ground was now shaking with so much force that I couldn’t even maintain balance. Fear reached up from the darkest depths of my heart and began to cloud my mind. With no escape in sight, I had lost all hope. As the T-Rex grew closer and closer, my body folded into the fetal position and I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, however, I did not find myself in the repulsive abyss that is the stomach of a T-Rex. In fact, I found myself in a much pleasanter place: home. Wrapped comfortably under layers of blankets, I was relieved to be far away from that nightmare. Who needs dinosaurs, anyway? Giraffes are so much cooler.

Muhammad Abubakar Mian

Class O’ Level-II

Our Online Learning Resources for O' Level Students & Teachers

The following 08 websites stand in our online learning resources for O' Level Students & Teachers (For the subject of English) as per recommendation by The Cambridge University. (humayun)

1. http://www.edufind.com/
2. http://www.onestopenglish.com/
3. http://www.dawn.com/
4. http://owl.english.purdue.edu/
5. www.timesofindia.indiatimes.com
6. http://www.arts.uottawa.ca/writcent/hypergrammar
7. http://www.geocities.com/fifth_grade_tpes/longfellow.html
8. http://www.spelling.hemscott.net/

Yet another MARVEL by our writing genius, Usama Gohar, of class AS Level. A touching story that would keep your minds hooked up till the end. That’s what you call ‘suspense’. The topic was originally meant for O’ level boys, yet Usama Gohar was dragged in just to be ‘a minaret of light’ for his juniors. I believe he’s done full justice to this situational topic. Enjoy! (Humayun)

Despite my devoted care, I could not save that boy from dying.

I was drenched in blood, most of which was not my own. Amidst the storm, nothing could be seen. Maybe that’s why our cars had collided with an ear-splitting bang. I had been quick to jump out in time. I kneeled and gazed around; nothing could be made out amidst the hail storm, apart from the three – presumably lifeless – figures. 

It took me a minute to realize that my left leg had been shattered. Relentlessly, I stood up and limped all the way to where the other three bodies lay – which wasn’t very far but still took a lot of effort on my part.

It took me some time to realize that there were two bodies when I could clearly recall seeing three figures inside the car just before our cars had had a collision. It was then that my ears made out the hushed breathes mixed with the slow breeze. I stumbled to the side of the road where the ground gave way to a deep valley. 

There before me, partially hidden by the leaves was a little boy: “Hold on!” I managed to call. The boy looked up, his eyes filled with tears – now glistening with hope. It's strange, I thought, how one word from a stranger can fill us with hope. I tried to lower hand towards him as I balanced myself at the edge of the road.

The rush of adrenaline subsided and with a sudden jerk I felt all the physical pains that had previously been held back by my adrenaline. My legs started aching, my head started spinning and I felt my forehead dampen with perspiration. The little boy clutched my hand with both of his little hands and I started to pull him up. As I was pulling him up, a dark, thick droplet landed between his eyes. Only then did I realize that my skull had been cracked open and it was only the adrenaline holding back my bleeding.

Everything before me went dark for a while until a loud crack brought me back to my senses. The piece of road on which I lay had torn itself apart and would soon fall into the valley underneath. 

I pulled the boy up and grabbed him by the shoulder just before another grumble filled the still air. I flung my body just in time to grab the edge of the still attached road with my free hand. I tried to pull myself up but the pain was excruciating.

I looked down at the boy, still clutching my ATM and found him looking at me. His dark eyes showed no sign of fear. If anything I saw in them was a mature courage. As I looked at him in awe, he spoke – his mouth still closed. His mouth was closed but his eyes spoke up, something the ancient people called “the spirit” and which psychics today call “telepathy”. “Don't worry,” his eyes seemed to say, “I know you tried.”

Before I could say or do anything else, he let go of my arm. The gruesome blizzard swallowed his little farm.  I watched him vanish into the white haze. 

He had left the night as dead as ever and me once more alone.

Authored by:
Usama Gohar
AS Level (Cambridge Section)
PakTurk Schools
Chak Shahzad
Islamabad

Let me shout out a really big ‘WOW’ to M. Romail Khan here. Boys, this is what they call ‘a story with appeal’. Romail, besides enjoying appreciation, mind looking for all those bits of editing in this updated version of your story by constantly keeping that original version by your side. Note them all carefully down, and then reach me at school to show how much, where and why the text was edited. (Humayun)

'Despite my devoted care, I couldn't save that boy from dying.'

"No, I can't take care of him..., Sir." I exclaimed with shock, though I couldn’t believe it was I who had reacted to captain Abdullah’s order with that sharp and high pitched

voice.

"You have to... that’s an ORDER!" blared Cap Abdullah, only a few centimeters away from my face, blue from the cold and brown from the shock. "It is your responsibility as a Muslim to take care of the prisoners of war." he stated with a lowered voice, pointing at the weak, helpless soul standing and shivering at my side. Before I could say anything further, he walked away, back into the station, not giving a single look back to see the desperation, or surprise, or... I can’t describe the kind of expression I had been holding on my face ever since I had been 'assigned' the new 'mission', completely out of the blue.

 The inter-racial war was raging on, but it was gradually becoming more and more eminent that it would soon end, with a victory for Pakistan.

"HURRAY!" blazed the mixed sound of us all troops at the base a week later, all my brothers in arms filling the large underground hall with shouts of laughter and happiness. Cheering and holding up our cups of "Kashmiri Tea" to beat the dreadful cold prevalent all around outside our base camp. The camp was at Srinagar, now a part of Pakistan, alongside the entire state which once called Srinagar its capital. That's right. Kashmir was now a permanent part of Pakistan.

"India didn't stand a chance" boasted one of our troops sipping down on his Tea.

“Captain Abdullah is calling the whole unit outside for an announcement" informed one of our troops, standing at the door.

“Here comes the long awaited Victory Speech from our beloved Captain" sighed the soldier sitting next to me.

The whole unit, including me moved outside, our pupils dilating from the sudden change of atmosphere from the lighted and warm base camp.

Mounts of snow melting underneath the horde of our feet, we stood halt in our formation, in an 'at ease' position, facing our captain. In the dark and cold night, Captain Abdullah stationed a young shivering child, each either a boy or a girl, no older than 12 beside each one of us and informed us to take care of these young 'prisoners of war'. After the captain had left us all stunned and gone inside, we all looked at each other as if rendered dumb from the short 10 minutes experience we had just had.

"What's your name" I asked with a soft voice facing the young 11 years old boy who stood there scared and shivering just an arm's length distance away from my crouched position.  " Ranbir Divani" replied his blue lips, same color as his eyes. "Let's get you inside" covering him with my thick army jacket, I took him to my room.

The following week I drove home, a new addition to my luggage in the form of a beautiful 11 years old boy, just two years older than my own daughter, whom I was finally going to meet after three years.

After having driven into my humble garage and having exchanged the prolonged emotional greeting with my wife and daughter, I introduced the new edition to our family. Fortunately, the family didn't have any grudges against the Indians but least could be said about my neighbors. The victory had come for Pakistan with the price of 20,000 innocent Pakistanis’ lives in the long three years of war. Thus it was not surprising that the Pakistanis failed to show any sympathy towards any Indians.

The following two months were difficult. Thanks to the devoting care of my beautiful wife, Ranbir was well. And was healthier from when he had been brought home.  But sadly, this was always at risk from the extremist neighbors my house was surrounded with. There had been a couple of attempts by the neighbors to hurt Ranbir, and it mostly always led to our house being vandalized, or me or my wife being hurt, trying to save Ranbir from bamboo sticks and machetes.

One could always see deep shadows of sorrow in Ranbir's eyes, resulting from the wounds his new family endured merely due to his former nationality.

He had become a good older brother to my daughter Nafisa and then came the day when Nafisa got hurt... trying to save his new brother from our neighbor's bamboo stick.

This was the last straw. His little sister had been hurt, punished for the beating originally intended for Ranbir.

The following day, I arrived home after getting my neighbor arrested, and my wife in the hospital with a wounded Nafisa, but it was too late.

Shocked beyond contemplation, I was struck dumb at the sight of the stool, the rope noose, and Ranbir's neck in between. Seconds turning into minutes, the horrifying reality gradually came back. I stepping forward I picked up the letter pressed under the feet of the 11 year old corpse. It was full of innocent apologies Ranbir had quickly jotted down in his recently-learned Urdu for the damage he thought his presence had caused for my family, sending his innocent love and appreciation for his new parents and sweet sis Nafisa.

I dropped back. Leaning against the wall with tearful eyes, I stood there with my heart pounding in my throat. I regretfully looked at the still body hanging beside me, now his innocent blue eyes shut.

Grieved, I shut my eyes too. Despite my devoted care, I couldn't save the boy from dying.

Authored by:
M. Romail Khan
O' Level Final Year
PakTurk Schools
Islamabad

M. Romail Khan

And next is featured here an impressive story by Ali Hasim of our O’ Level Final Year Class. It’s his first ever contribution to our blog. Ali’s a boy with rich imagination. He’s fast in visualizing a variety of situations and very quick in describing, portraying them within an insignificant amount of time. He’s also tried his hand on this topic a couple of stories have already been published on here before. Let’s wish him a bright writing career in his future life. A thumb up job, Ali! Keep up good work. (Humayun)

“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 onto the body. It was a young woman of around twenty-five, had blonde hair and was five feet six inches tall. 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.

The police had stopped the investigation considering it to be a natural death. But my report suggested the otherwise and when I gave my report to the chief inspector, the case was reopened with a renewed keenness. This time the investigation was done with this fact in mind that it was a murder case.

I being 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, and 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 had the name of the husband of the deceased. 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. 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 the person named Anthony McGregor. But to my utter surprise, the chemist told me that this person had never been to his shop.

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 sheif to get him arrested as he was our man. I was startled on interrogating him. I never knew a new surprise awaited me. He was PAID for the job. This much 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 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 planned to kill her, and succeeded in that soon after.

He was given a life sentence.

By:

Ali Hashim

O' Level Final Year Class

PakTurk Schools

Islamabad