Today is GCSE results day. As you read this, hundreds of thousands of students, including myself, will be finding out their GCSE grades. These grades are the result of two hard (hopefully) years of dedicated work and effort so will show whether people did their best or not. They also determine where people go next: Sixth form college or an apprenticeship, as well as what they study: traditional A-levels or a BTEC course….the grades open up (and close) endless pathways. In aid of this, here is a piece of creative writing I did in April as part of my English Language revision. It was at an optional after school revision session, where, with a list of titles, I had to choose one to base my writing around. The piece could be real or complete fantasy. After all, it’s not like the examiner will phone the school up to check whether the events actually took place. As long as the writing was relevant to the title and wasn’t plagiarized, anything went. So, without further ado, here is a creative piece surrounding a fictional results day, based on a time you felt ashamed of yourself.
(NB:Any references to real places, people or events are purely coincidental). Today was the day. After months of waiting, wondering, speculating, hoping – even praying…results day had finally arrived. All that hard work, all those exercise books, all that revision to try and excel would come down to the contents of one brown envelope. Terrifying. I knew I had a real chance of doing well. The majority of my mocks had gone smoothly, teachers were always encouraging and, while some exams were difficult, I didn’t feel like I had done awfully in any exam. But as I slowly strolled to school, I still had the nightmare of failure at the forefront of my mind. The pit in my stomach was getting deeper. As I arrived at school, I could clearly see people’s reactions to their results. Some were celebrating on the field, some jumping up and down in joy, a few having their photo taken for the local paper. Others were crying, being consoled by teachers and desperately ringing further education centres. The contrast was unreal: black and white. I slowly shuffled into the hall where brown envelopes were neatly arranged by surname. I wanted the moment of failure or success to never arrive; to never have to learn my fate in life. People say exams aren’t the most important thing. For me, exams were life or death. The exams officer handed my brown envelope to me. Even the envelope material was uncomfortable and hard to grip. The fact my hands were uncontrollably shaking didn’t help. In the end, my Dad had to open the envelope, for fear of my results being destroyed by careless tearing. The paper was in my hand. At first, I couldn’t comprehend what was written down. The blur of black writing on white paper, along with my unstable mental state, made reading nearly impossible. After coming to my senses, I scanned the results. Maths…an eight…Science…three As….History….an A* - wonderful! I then came to English Literature and Language, the subjects I cared about the most….a six in both GCSEs. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. A subject I enjoyed, cared about and wished to pursue – this was what I had to show for eleven years of English education. I felt ashamed at letting so many people down: my school, my family and, most of all, myself. I hoped the papers could be remarked, praying that some lousy, inexperienced examiner had marked all my work incorrectly. I called the sixth form college I intended to attend, hoping that I would still be accepted, though I had resigned myself to believe this was, at best, unlikely. Saying my grade out loud felt damning, humiliating, awful. When the lady from the college happily stated I would still be accepted, I thought it was a trick. Twice I asked her to repeat herself, until the words sunk in. What did this experience teach me? That being worried, unnecessarily, is pointless. That, while something at first glance may appear disappointing, there are usually some positives. But I still feel ashamed at myself. Ashamed at being so disheartened over nothing.
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