Hello all, just wondering if anyone could help me with my English. It is my worst subject and really do want to improve (i got a 15/25 last term for my psmt) and have an upcoming imaginative response next week. If anyone could help me improve the draft I would really appreciate it. For context, I am giving a voice to a silenced character in the short story 'examination day', it is where children must take a test when they turn 12 years old and if they are too intelligent for society they are killed. I have chosen to write as the interviewer in third person limited. For clarification, I have made the interviewers name the same as the initial stories main character so that I can compare the two easier (don't know if it is a good idea).
I will leave the draft below for anyone who is willing to help! thank you.
English draft

"Question number 5. How far away is the sun?" said the interviewer.
" Ooh, I know this one. 5 thousand Miles!" said the boy. Hope was brought to the interviewer as he had to tick the answer wrong for the first time, he knew what was going to happen. As an interviewer, Dickes job is to often provide saddening news to families. he often hears "Why does life have to be taken because my kid is smart?" Pain pulses through his veins because he knows there is nothing that can be done. At the end of each day, A small group of tears form at the corner of his eye, forming a full tear of distraught, rolling down his face whilst being joined by more and more droplets of agony forming a puddle of sorrow on the ebony hardwood of his miserable and empty house.

As a child Dicke was excellent in school, he enjoyed the peace of reading and lived through a happiness fulfilled life ingulfed with learning. This was, until he turned 12 where his whole life turned upside down. Not once did Dickie does not know something. He would read for fun, learn for enjoyment, and repent never observing a situation when he could. Unfortunately, he would never know how this would impact his life, it failed him for in the exam he scored 100% in. Life was destined to end for the future interviewer, but the government took him, they needed more slaves to "work" for them and Dicke became victim to the helpless trap. his life for 8 years after the exam was fulfilled with excruciating amounts of training, then, he was an interviewer bound to end the lives of thousands of children.

Now, Dickes day consists of misery, it is a vine moving all over his body taking control of every part of his body, the vine grows and shoots more pain into Dicke every time he signs the death wish of these children. Constantly, he asks himself, "Is life worth it at this point?" At the end of each day of work he sits at his desk staring at the sheets of paper that contain the last thoughts of many children waiting to be approved for death. Just sitting there, silently waiting for the vine to attack. Until it all stops, this is when he met Dicke.

Just like any other day Dicke goes to work resentfully and unaware of what today will bring him, the first child he meets is called dickie, just like himself, they are both smart, had loving families with magnitudes of happiness surrounding them. The test is the arch nemesis of these feelings. Dicke thinks to himself "is this kid really like me? I hope he doesn't end up like me! or even worse. Dead!" The interview grows fond of the death of Dickie just like with any other kid, but this isn't any other kid. "Question number 5. How far away is the sun?" said Dicke.
" Ooh, I know this one. 5 thousand Miles!" said Dickie. A little smile was made to provide hope to the interviewer, little did Dickie know that the end of his life is approaching.

As Dickie continues to ace the test, the Vine grows and covers every part of the interviewer’s body. 97% is the grade the young boy received, Now is the time the interviewer resents the most, Dickes body is numb to the pain and the thought of death somehow brings hope to himself as it would release him from this life of agony and pain. Confirmation of Dickies death was sent through, but the interviewer had enough of the suffering and pain endured through this so called "Job" of his. Thoughts like, Can I run away with him? Would we survive? Will he end up like me? erupt through his head and create a storm of anxiety to destroy all hope.

The interviewer has all his exam papers taken at the end of the exams; Dickies exam was on top. He knew what will happen soon. The faint sound of screaming triggers the vine to make Dicke victim for the last time. It is bigger than before and engulfs any form of hope he has. "I can't do this anymore!" Dickes last night at home was tragic, after arrived at the empty house, the puddle of tears grew and grew until the stream stopped and the pain left forever.

    Hey dude, hope QCE ain’t treating you too badly! I’ve tried my best to help:

    lil N said the

    Avoid using “said” on its own, or you can eliminate it with a different word. For example, “said the boy with such enthusiasm, it was like a million stars were exploding out of his eyes.”

    lil N Hope was brought to the interviewer

    “A spark of hope ignited the interviewer,”

    lil N he knew what was going to happen.

    Full stop after the previous sentence, and probably something like, “He knew what happened next,”

    lil N job is to often

    You can get rid of this part, and instead of provide, use provides.

    lil N Pain pulses through his veins because he knows there is nothing that can be done

    You can say something like, “Emotional pain pulses through his veins, which translate to the fingernails currently embedding themselves in his palm. He’s helpless. There’s nothing that can be done.

    lil N forming a full tear of distraught,

    “Growing into a full tear of distraught,”

    lil N At the end of each day, A small group of tears form at the corner of his eye, forming a full tear of distraught, rolling down his face whilst being joined by more and more droplets of agony forming a puddle of sorrow on the ebony hardwood of his miserable and empty house.

    This is quite a long sentence, maybe try to shorten it?

    lil N ingulfed with learning

    “Engulfed in learning,”

    lil N Not once did Dickie does not know something.

    The “does” is kinda unnecessary here

    lil N repent never observing a situation when he could.

    The ending doesn’t make sense

    lil N Unfortunately, he would never know how this would impact his life

    “He never knew this would destroy his life,”

    lil N they needed more slaves to "work" for them and Dicke became victim to the helpless trap.

    Make this it’s own sentence. Maybe get rid of the word helpless and maybe replace it with cruel? I.e “Dicke became victim to this cruel and twisted spectacle,”

    lil N Now, Dickes day consists of misery, it is a vine moving all over his body taking control of every part of his body, the vine grows and shoots more pain into Dicke every time he signs the death wish of these children.

    “Now, Dickes day consists of the ever-growing vine of misery constantly drowning him, fighting for control. Every time he signs the death warrant of these innocents, the vine stabs his heart, submerging him deeper into anguish and grief,”

    lil N The faint sound of screaming triggers the vine

    “The faint but blood-curdling screams triggers the vine…”

    General comments:
    There is a bit of random capitalisation going on, need to fix that, and a few start of sentence words that need to be capitalised.

    There are a few sentences that you can break up, to provide a more scary effect. Short sharp sentences can really change the tone of a story.

    Use the show don’t tell technique, it can really elevate your writing.

    Also, with the ending, try to be a little more clearer about the fact he does in his house. You could be slightly more descriptive of how he dies, e.g blood pooled around his wrist mixing with his tears, till he couldn’t feel anymore.

    It an awesome idea. I think it’s amazingly creative and the dystopian effect is really coming through. If you still have words left in the word count, describe the interview room, and just the little things. Add in a bit more poetic devices and vary sentence length.

    Hope this helped,
    -jinx_58

                                  jinx_58 you are amazing, I will use these very useful tips and further improve it until Sunday when I will memorise it! I hope I get a B+ as I have been scraping B’s throughout the year.
                                  I really appreciate it.

                                      lil N
                                      All goods, any more questions, feel free to shoot!

                                      Also if you want, I can chuck my story up on this thread, I got 21/25 for it as an example, as long as no one copies it 🙂

                                      -jinx_58

                                        Yes please, could you upload your story? I'm struggling a little bit too

                                        Trigger warnings: abuse, suicide, self harm

                                        Imagine this: a girl, with so much life in her, and one simple act can take it all away.
                                        That’s how Delilah felt right now. Standing at a great height, head tilted down, eyes boring into the blackness below. Contemplating whether to leave it all behind. The second she elevates herself onto the balls of her feet, and let gravity drag her, she’ll be gone. This girl, so tired of everything around her. Everyone around her. Treating her like a blade of grass to be trampled upon, instead of an individual with thoughts and feelings. It all started when she was 10, a small girl. But that was an accident, did it really count? Her first brush with death. The display case was peeling and smelled musty. Her curiosity could not be tamed, and she climbed it. Needless to say, she ended up in the hospital, with a shard of glass cutting almost too deep near the pulsing vein on her neck.
                                        She grew up in a broken household. Her father an abusive suicidal drunk, and her mother an overworked target for her father’s words and punches. She was always running away from the abuse, the pain and the resulting insecurities; the fake friends of familiarity she found comfort within. Sometimes, she would run to the very place she was standing today and look beyond the horizon blend of pinks and oranges. She waited for a miracle. For something magical. Something that would soothe the pain.
                                        As a young girl, she’d always read books. Books that took you to faraway lands and places through wardrobes, doors and brick walls. Places where her imagination took her. Places that gave her a sense of being.
                                        Places that soothed the pain.
                                        She had hope. Hope keeps one going, no matter the circumstance.
                                        But one can only hope for so long.
                                        It got to a point where she couldn’t take it anymore. She was 16, and after a beating that her and her mother shared, she shut herself into a room. Tears uncontrollably racing down her purpling cheeks, from the broken dam of her mind. Shaking so much, her body met the floor. It occurred to her that this wasn’t normal. It cannot be possible that everyone endures such immense agony. One would now understand that mental pain hurts far more than physical; but back then, she was left alone. Simply seen as a hopeless girl with no future. Hands trembling, she grabbed a nearby blade; which was safely tucked away in the drawer. A blade that she’d knew she’d need one day. She took that blade and broke the strings pulsing through her wrists. The strings that tied her to this hopeless world.
                                        Or so she thought. All it left was a scar.
                                        As her will to die became more purposeful, her life was drained of meaning.
                                        She wanted the pain numbed. Not soothed, not anymore.
                                        The darkness below, beckoning her.
                                        Another time at 18, she tried again. She just wanted to escape the perpetual pain, a wound where the scab had never formed; instead, one where salt was rubbed into constantly. They say that time heals things, but does it really? Does it not increase the ever-growing pain you want to run from? It’s a cycle, a routine, one that she was so sick of, she wanted to try something different. This time, it wasn’t strings. It was a rope. A rope that bought her closer to death. But never close enough.
                                        She had the will to permanently end the pain.
                                        Now 22, she is standing on the edge of the cliff, and death. The people she thought that loved her were dead. An escape is what she wanted, and this was the only way…or was it? The grass was slippery, and the smell of fresh air lingering within the smatter of greys and blues in the horizon. Except, there was something off. She took a deep breath. “This is what I want. This is what I have wanted… for a long time.” She took off from the cliffs and plummeted towards the bottom. She was engulfed in darkness, and she thought it was the end.
                                        But was it really?
                                        Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a spark. A spark that eventually grew bigger and brighter. A luminescent ball of fire rushed towards her. But it wasn’t burning, the bad kind, that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. It was the burning of the fire that brought hope.
                                        The ball became a bright orange mane flecked with yellow, that revealed four legs and a kind face. “Your time has not yet come, young one,” came a deep but tender voice from the mouth of the lion. She had yet again survived, but she wasn’t frustrated. The presence of the gentle beast had calmed her, and her worries drifted away. She felt peaceful. The corners of her lips tugged upwards for the first time since she was 10. Somehow, Delilah knew being whisked to another world, which four siblings travelled to once upon a time, she would be okay.
                                        Aslan would never let the hopeless go.

                                        -jinx_58

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