Does this short story make sense?

Question

okay I'm 14 and for our GCSE english we were asked to write a short story on fear, this is mine it's quite long :s please tell me what you think and if it makes sense as it is a v. complicated plotline :P
:


A Mother’s Love
All I could hear was the placid sound of the dripping water beating down on the decaying floorboards. I was a prisoner in my own home, a captive of the night. Startled by every movement, every clamour. I couldn’t sleep in this house anymore it was too ancient, too primordial. It belonged to my grandparents who, after retirement, had not done any domestic housework, therefore it’s needless to say the place was a mess. The woodwork was chipped and rough and the walls were gritty and uneven. All the paintings surrounded me as if closing in, their eyes pierced through me like a blade cuts through flesh, the cold colours drained into the canvas pale and faded. In fact nearly every aspect of the house was creepy and sinister, the way the old, rotted staircase creaked as if it was only held together by the most emaciated splinters of wood.  
I sat up and look around me. The bed I laid on had once belonged to my mother; actually the whole room and all its contents had once been hers. The laced pillow case reminded me of how pristine and immaculate she had always looked. Her clean and flawless exterior subtly distracting others away from the secrets and imperfections her life contained. There was an old, beautiful, silver carriage clock on top of the dressing table. It was small although it had a strong but sweet tick. It was one o’clock in the morning and slowly I got up out of the bed and walked over to the window. Grey mist surrounded the house I was now to call home. It was as if I was almost blind to the world as all I could make out were blurs of colour and swirling shapes. The mist was too intense to see far, this was all the cause of a volcanic eruption from a place called Park County relatively near to where I lived in Montana. 
The ash cloud had only meant to last a week, but the dust started to settle and as I was asthmatic, I was not allowed to leave the house. Trapped here for several weeks, in a house Frankenstein’s monster would probably feel at home in. The window was nailed shut so there was no hope of me opening it to escape. I heard my granddad hammering it shut yesterday. I think he was paranoid of my curious instinct and thought I would venture out into the neighbourhood, but I had no desire to. My grandparent’s house was the only place left for me. Six weeks ago whilst I was at school, it happened. Something inconceivable, it twisted my life into a nightmare of constant worry and anxiety. It started from a single candle then spread into a blazing inferno. A disaster of the smallest cause; the wick was no bigger than my fingernail, but it had distorted my life forever. The souls of my mother and father were eternally held by that solitary wick. 
I looked at the clock. It was now six o’clock, time passed so quickly in the nights whereas the days dragged on. I heard the door of my granddads’ room slam as he set off for his early morning jog. My grandma was staying with her friend in Cuba, my granddad said it was because her friend was sick but I knew that wasn’t the reason. She didn’t like me. It was a ‘never had, never would’ situation. I had no idea why because I barley saw her anymore, in fact the last time I saw her I was a toddling child of only five years. I always asked my granddad why. Why she hated me, why she was never here. I could hear the crunching of pebbles under his feet as he slowly but steadily jogged down the drive. I couldn’t imagine how hard it must be jogging through that mist, unable to see further than was necessary to stand up. Both my grandparents were very young. My grandma was forty-seven and my granddad was forty-nine, but this was not surprising as my parents had been very young. My mum was thirty when she died and my dad twenty-seven. My granddad kept young and fit in order to look after me, I believe this was the reason for his jogging. 
Now I was alone. I heard a scratching at the door. I suddenly remembered my grandparent’s dog, Tess was still outside. I looked at the clock; the time was now seven thirty-three. I clambered out of bed and descended down the ancient staircase, creaking with every move I made. I seized the key to the kitchen door and turned it slowly in the lock. The door swung open but I couldn’t see Tess, I wasn’t meant to go outside but I stuck my hand through the dog flap in the back door. Nothing was there and I couldn’t go out and look for Tess. “Tess! Tess!” I started to call. I put my ear to the door but couldn’t hear anything, not a bark, not even panting. I heard another scratch on the door, this startled me slightly but again I stuck my hand through the flap to feel for Tess. Nothing. Another scratch. They were becoming more frequent now and I feared Tess was having breathing problems in the ash. I stu

Tomemoth · Accepted Answer

Yes it does make sense. You also have rather good grammatical skills and spelling.
What's your target grade? B or something? You could use more semi colons - in place of connectives such as "and" - and also where it says "They were becoming more frequent now and I feared Tess was having breathing problems in the ash." you could add a comma before the "and" and after the "now" and put an exclamation mark at the end of the sentence. It would boost your grading for this task.

chautin · Answer

that is quite stable, this would additionally be used for the placing out to function a extreme-high quality twist with back memories and such or use it for the top to maintain it a secret that keeps your readers hooked.

Trending News

Does this short story make sense?

2 Answers