My other English Assessment

A bit later than expected, but here's my other English assessment! The module for this one was satire, and as such we were tasked to write a piece that made fun of any social gathering we wanted. Being someone who isn't a fan of drinking in the slightest, and having just been introduced to Dunedin's drinking culture early that year, I chose Orientation Week as my subject. Deciding it'd be funny to make dehumanised caricatures of drunk people, I made it a zombie thriller story. Enjoy!

It was the first night of O-Week, and Jamie wasn’t prepared in the slightest. While others were placing their offertory spirits outside to appease those soon to arrive, he was upturning his flat in an effort to scrounge up enough money. Paying the rent had left him penniless, and hours of searching resulted in barely enough pocket change for a pack of RTDs. By the time he was on his way home from the liquor store, the streets were empty and the sun had set. The only light came from street lamps and the occasional house that still had their lights on. Howls were still coming from the stadium, so it seemed that the beasts were still performing their ghastly festivities. Jamie sighed in relief; that should give him some time to get home.

“Heeeey!” A voice called out from the shadows. Someone else was out here?
“Uh…hello?” A shape waved at him from the shadows. Jamie moved closer, desperate for company of any kind.
“What are you doing out here?” He asked, but its giggling and staggering forward in response answered his question for him. As it came into the light, he could see that it was dressed in a makeshift toga typical of those worn during the first night’s gathering, a plethora of stains adding dark reds and browns to the white cloth. What was it doing here so early? Jamie started running, but so did it, quickly closing the distance and grasping his arm.
“Where are you going?” He yanked it back and the beast fell to the ground, struggling to pick itself back up. As it screamed in anger, Jamie fled, not daring to stop. The creature gave chase, but couldn’t keep up for very long. By the time he did stop, however, he realised he had no clue where he was. Anywhere that wasn’t on the way to the liquor store or the way back home was unfamiliar to him, but he didn’t want to turn back for fear of that monster catching up. So he picked a direction and kept walking. The noises from the stadium were starting to grow closer; they had finished their rituals and were ready to roam the streets. Jamie felt like wherever he went, their bestial jeers only grew louder. Turning a corner revealed a pack of them making their rowdy way towards him. Running to hide behind a recycling bin, Jamie prayed that they hadn’t noticed him.

They rounded the corner and staggered into view, oblivious to the young man’s presence. One of them gestured to the house opposite Jamie, saying something unintelligible. The rest of them seemed to understand, however, and started hurling glass bottles at the building. If this is what they’ll do to a building, I don’t want to know what they’ll do to me, Jamie thought. They eventually ran out of ammunition and were about to go on their merry way when one of them noticed Jamie’s recycling bin. As the sound of glass crunching under its week grew closer, Jamie slammed the bin into the beast, using the commotion to get a head start. The rest of the mob caught on quickly and began to follow, their demonic noises filling the air. As the chase went on, the less able-bodied ones at the front were consumed by the rest of the unrelenting horde. It grew smaller and smaller until only one remained; the one Jamie assaulted with the bin in the first place. Its toga had been ripped to near-shreds, but it showed no sign of stopping. On the other hand, Jamie could feel himself tiring out. At this rate, the fiend would catch up and do Lord-Knows-What to him if he didn’t do something. And so he stopped. He turned and stared down the creature as it continued to come towards him. He waited until it was a mere footstep from him before sending it reeling with a blow to the jaw. Not waiting to see if it would get up again, Jamie fled, eventually sneaking into a disused flat for shelter. He prepared himself a makeshift blanket and pillow out of curtains before realising that he lost his offertory spirits at some point. He groaned; not only did he have to experience the first night for himself, but now he was unprepared for the second as well. At any rate, he was safe enough to have a chance to sleep, which he gladly took.

The next morning, he found someone willing to take him to his flat, which had shared the same fate as the house from last night. The rest of the day involved cleaning the broken glass around the house and inside the rooms with shattered windows. He wasn’t sure if his landlord would take pity on him or berate him for not being able to get prepared for O-week earlier, but he hoped having everything semi-presentable would lessen the blow. He went out and got some more drinks, much earlier this time, and set them on the doorstep immediately. Come nightfall, he had gotten comfortable in his bed, binge watching Scottish comedy shows and eating chips. His headphones blocked out the horrors outside, but he knew that O-week would never truly go away. It would keep coming back each year, a week of chaos and debauchery, and all he could do was sit inside and ignore it the best he could.

My University Writing Assessment

After a long semester of writing, I've finished all my internally-assessed English assessments. 60% of my grade for this paper comes from creative writing pieces, and it's awesome! Now that they've all been marked, I'd like to share some of them. The first is for our Crime Fiction unit: Writing the opening chapter for a crime novel. My biggest regret for this piece is that it didn't have as good of a hook as I'd like; knowing that this wasn't going to be expanded on and the somewhat-restrictive word limit meant I didn't want to spend much time setting up any plot points, but giving some context to the crime might have improved it. Anyway, here it is!

The police had barely set up shop by the time I arrived at the scene. The tape was just being rolled out behind me as I walked into the abandoned hotel, the setting of a murder not hours beforehand. I followed the first person I saw, ending up in a room that was just as dull as the rest of the place, dead body aside.
“No bullet holes? Surprisingly clean fight for a place like this.” I looked over the victim’s clothes, which seemed almost as old as he was. “But why would someone so professional go after a guy like this?”
“I don’t think it was a professional,” my impromptu partner said. “You’re right, only one shot was fired tonight, but there’s been no signs of covering up and the shot itself was so poorly made, it’s amazing that he died so quickly. My thinking is that the guy just got on the bad side of a mugging, but we’re better off waiting on forensics to get a better look.”
“So what’s the point of being here so early?”
“General situation assessment, making sure everything stays undisturbed until they arrive, usual stuff. Which brings up a wonderful question, actually,” She turns her own gun on me. “Any detective in the Weston force knows about our procedures, so who the hell are you?” Damn, I would have thought that knocking out her to-be partner would do it. Weston P.D.’s always had a habit of forgetting to tell people who they’re working with, but she was sharper than most of the goons they send out.
“I’m a consulting detective, looking into this for a client.” She was hardly impressed, but her expression betrayed a hint of curiosity.
“That’s why you think it was a professional? Someone payed you a nice sum to look into the death of a hobo?”
“I figure there must be something deeper to this if I got paid the amount that I did. If it’s not the victim, it’s either the perp or the motive. ”
“Good to know. Now if you leave immediately, I’ll keep this conversation a secret.” The gun in her hands left no room for argument; I took my leave immediately.
I was on the rooftop of the building fifteen minutes later. If my client’s to be trusted, the killer wasn’t the type to leave the scene in a conventional manner. And since I couldn’t let that detective see me, my investigation was limited to the fourth floor upwards, maybe the third floor if I was light-footed enough. For now, I started from the top, finding nothing in terms of evidence, but whether that supported or went against my suspicions, I didn’t want to say. However, there was something that struck me as odd; I assumed that the victim squatted here, but nothing I saw during this investigation suggested an extended stay. This left me with plenty of speculative theories, but nothing solid, so I decided to chance a visit to the third story. Initially seeming identical to all the other floors, I made my way to the room above the crime scene, thankful that the interior designers didn’t opt for floorboards. As I was scanning what little there was to scan of the place, I heard the detective conversing with a new voice, presumably the investigator I impersonated. As quietly as I could, I put my ear to the floor for a better listen.
“Jesus, are you sure you should be working with that kind of injury?” Yep, that’s the one.
“I’ll be fine, I’ll get things checked out once forensics arrive. What have you got so far?”
The woman sighed, but continued regardless. “Not really much to say. Guy took a 9mm Browning to the chest, snuffed out the small amount of life he had left. Honestly, it seems pretty open and shut to me. Look for recent purchases of a gun that fires 9mm Brownings, see if we can’t find any DNA samples to match to the suspects.”
Sounds like the police have this one covered, despite their usual track record. I start to pick myself up off the floor when I notice something in the corner. Barely sticking out from the carpet was a bullet, and it sure as hell wasn’t a 9mm Browning. As I got closer, I saw that it was pointed at an odd angle, making it near-imperceptible from afar, but its very existence proved that this case was something worth looking into. I considered taking the bullet but decided against it; It’s not unique enough for me to track it, and maybe that’ll convince that detective if she finds it. As I get up, I hear one of them say something that makes my heart jump.
“I’m gonna go up to the next floor, see if there’s anything there.”
I rule out escaping upstairs as an option, as it’s too far to reach without either being seen or my footsteps being heard. The window was also too noisy to consider and hiding sure as hell wasn’t going to work, so I closed the door and positioned myself beside it, ready to get the jump on whichever one comes through. Footsteps made their way up the stairwell, drawing closer to the room. As the doorknob turned, I steeled myself. The door opened, and a fist to the jaw greeted them. I rushed past while they’re dazed, but their arm tugged at my coat, pulling me down. As I hit the ground, I looked up to see the same barrel staring me down fifteen minutes ago.
“What the hell are you still doing here?” The other detective had arrived as well, eyes and mouth wide open in confusion.
“Sandra, who on earth is this?”
“He came here pretending to be you. I chased him off, but it looks like he couldn’t stay away.” She said. “Handcuff him, we’re taking him in.”
Great. Day one of my investigation, and everything’s already gone to the dogs.

I'll post another next week. The other two are a bit...weird, though, so I'll have to figure out how to post them.