VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Introduction to my personal journeys…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: Trudging along the airport’s moving walkways, I dragged the constantly scraping suitcase. I had lost it. I…
Trudging along the airport’s moving walkways, I dragged the constantly scraping suitcase. I had lost it. I looked at my boarding pass, the gate to my new life. I had never even thought about anything other than what society viewed me as, focusing on academics, hobbies, and everything else to please others. Now, none of it mattered. I was lost. I now stood in the middle of a void, oblivious to what lay ahead. “Krish! Over here.” My mom’s mellifluous voice broke my daze. As I looked up, I wondered how she looked so ecstatic. Unlike me, they were eager to enter this unknown realm, a realm called Australia. Maybe they knew that this was the best for me. The best for us.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Using the ‘Red Plastic Chair’ as a…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 67.5%: The masala dabba (spice box) remains in the corner of my kitchen counter, round and unassuming. To anyone…
The masala dabba (spice box) remains in the corner of my kitchen counter, round and unassuming. To anyone else, it is simply a container for seasoning, but to me it is a persistent reminder of both my past and my future. It recalls my mother’s hands moving instinctively across the box without measurement, a skill I have now inherited. It represents my grandmother’s voice crackling through the phone on a rainy Sunday afternoon. In a land that still feels foreign, it becomes an anchor of cultural continuity. At school, we are taught to prioritise blending in; at home, I learn that culture is not so easily diluted. The bold tastes of elaichi (cardamom) and laung (clove) carry the successes of my ancestors, flavours I inherit and continue to brew into my future.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: "The Price of Prejudice"
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: ”The Price of Prejudice”
”The Price of Prejudice”
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: title is my country, framework is ctounry
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: I used to believe a country was nothing more than a piece of land outlined on a map, a shape that teachers…
I used to believe a country was nothing more than a piece of land outlined on a map, a shape that teachers traced with red markers while explaining borders and treaties. My country, they said, was an island continent—wide, ancient, and sunburnt. But no one told me that a country could also be the feeling of warm bitumen under bare feet, or the rasping sound of cicadas that stitched summer evenings together. No one mentioned how a country could be made of people who argue with you, love you, and sometimes leave you. I had to learn that part myself.
When I was younger, my country fitted neatly inside my grandparents’ backyard. It smelled of eucalyptus leaves and the earthy sweetness of freshly turned soil from Pop’s vegetable patch. I spent entire afternoons chasing sunlight across the fence line, listening to Nana humming an old folk tune she carried with her when she first arrived from overseas. She told me once that she had chosen this place because it felt like “a second chance.” At ten, I didn’t understand what she meant. A country, I thought, was permanent. It didn’t need chances. It simply was.
But Nana knew better. She knew that a country lives through the hands that shape it, the stories whispered into its soil, the generations that claim it and reclaim it. For her, Australia was both an ending and a beginning. For me, it was simply home.
As I grew older, my world expanded in awkward stages. I learned that my country’s history was not as clean or simple as the textbooks suggested. Behind every familiar street name lurked stories of dispossession; behind every public holiday lay a silence that some families still carried heavily. In Year Nine, an Elder named Aunty Margaret visited our school and spoke about the river that once flowed freely where our oval now sits. She said the river still lives under the concrete, but only some people remember its name. My classmates shifted uncomfortably on the plastic chairs, uncertain of what to do with a truth that didn’t fit neatly into the patriotic speeches we’d memorised.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Title: Everything Changes Stimulus:…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: They say courtrooms are places of resolution. Places where conflict untangles itself under white lights, where…
They say courtrooms are places of resolution. Places where conflict untangles itself under white lights, where truth rises, pure and uncontaminated, above the noise. They say that here — in this orderly square of polished wood and formal language — everything changes.
But as I sit at this table, the varnish sticky under my palms, I realise nothing has changed at all.
The judge is new, yet shining with seniority, his robe neat, his voice measured. A face that, outside this room, might nod politely at me on the street. Progress, they’d call it. Evidence that the system evolves. But the way he looks at me — carefully neutral, carefully distant — is the same expression I’ve seen all my life. A judgement behind the eyes. A weighing. A doubt already taking form because of colour.
The courtroom smells faintly of lemons and dust. They must have wiped everything down before we entered, a performance of cleanliness — as if scrubbing the benches could scrub the bias out too. The jurors file in like a procession, their shoes whispering against the carpet. Some glance at me, quick and sharp. Others don’t look at all. I can’t decide which is worse.
My lawyer whispers, “Stay calm.” Her voice is soft, almost apologetic, as though she already knows calm will not save me. I nod anyway.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: do i dare disturb the universe? stand out
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 92.5%: *23rd of November, 1980* To my dearest self. Your name is ———, and when you were 45 years old you discovered…
*23rd of November, 1980*
To my dearest self.
Your name is ———, and when you were 45 years old you discovered a way to live forever.
*He’s always got to be so dramatic.*
If you’re reading this, I expect your memories are foggy. They’ll clear up fast. You are a military researcher who lives alone in the Colorado mountains, and you have been assigned to NASA’s immortality initiative. Tomorrow, you are going to be the first human to undergo cellular integrity rectification, the procedure will strip every atom of your body down and rebuild it, allowing you to halt ageing forever. Thanks to you, the free people of the United States will fear the hollow cling of death no longer. Humans are no longer just conquerers of land and sea - we have conquered time. Let this letter serve as an anchor - a map back to the man you are, should the procedure leave your identity… fragmented.
You are a genius. From young, you have always been curious, and devastatingly capable. Graduating from the most prestigious high school in your town, you were recruited almost immediately by the U.S secret service’s department of technology and promoted to a leadership position. For a time, you aided in the war effort, constructing nuclear weapons in preparation against the Soviet Union, but soon enough, you were requested to begin a more… experimental project. In less than a day, you were transported from Houston to an isolated nuclear bunker in Colorado and given a single instruction. “Help us live forever”.
*Don’t lie to yourself, ——, do you think you’ll wake up and I’ll be gone? Are you hoping your broken memories won’t include me?*
I’m not sure what’s going on. I’m tracing back along these words that I’ve written, but I have no recollection of ever writing them. It seems to have happened in the paragraph earlier as well. I must be well rested for tomorrow’s operation. I will continue this entry before the procedure.
*[Written a few pages after] He’s so prideful don’t you think? He thinks himself a God. Really. It’s amazing how delusional one can be. No one is going to read this, because this isn’t going to work. We’re going to die alone, trapped in a bunker barely big enough for a dog to live in. How can he speak so well of himself. Has he not seen his starved frame in the mirror? His mangled beard, his bloodshot eyes? The truth is, his-our supplies run out in about a week. This is a last ditch attempt at saving an assignment given to get* rid *of us.*
*24th of November, 1980*
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Stimulus: A hand reaching upward…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 92.5%: Muted, suffocating stillness filled the air. I looked up at the dirt brown sky, my head the only one still…
Muted, suffocating stillness filled the air. I looked up at the dirt brown sky, my head the only one still moving. A hard cylinder pressed on my back.
“Stay still.”
I didn’t mean to move, but when I did, when my spine straightened, the universe shifted, just slightly, as though it had been waiting for me to breathe. My eyes flew back down to my knees. Around me stunk of unwashed bodies and dirty rags. The quiet rhythm of obedience hummed as I swore I could hear the weight of everyone’s silence pressing against me, a silence that said, “This is safer.”
On the platform ahead, the Commander spoke in the same hollow voice we had all learned to imitate. His words slid through the soil like air like oil - smooth, heavy and without substance.
“Order. Unity. Sacrifice.”
The crowd murmured back the same three words, our voices bleeding into one another until they were indistinguishable. A shiver raced up my spine, as I reminisced of how the world felt smaller when we spoke like that. As though the air shrank to fit the sound.
A scrap of blue lodged in the corner of my eye. A flicker of motion. A bird, impossibly alive, weaving through the smog, darting across the square before vanishing into the clouds.
No one else looked up. For a moment, my chest ached with something nameless, for I couldn’t recall the last time I had seen something of such colour. A blue that didn’t belong to government banners, but the kind that belonged to the now muddied sky. My urge to see it again rose.
The soldier behind me shifted, the barrel nudging harder between my scapula.
“Do not move.”
My gaze lowered itself again. I told myself that it was all just my imagination, that the colour, the sudden spring of life, it was all fake. Yet, the thought still stayed, sharp and insistent. What if I hadn’t imagined it?
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Do I dare disturb the universe?”
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 87.5%: The classroom clock had been stuck at 10:47 since last term, though no one had the energy to care. Ms.…
The classroom clock had been stuck at 10:47 since last term, though no one had the energy to care. Ms. Abergarth stood beneath it, radiating that polite authority teachers wear like perfume, and clicked to the next slide of her PowerPoint: Do I Dare Disturb the Universe? The font, Comic Sans, naturally, had the optimism of someone who believed deep questions could be solved before recess. We were 14, some even 13. Our universe mostly consisted of NAPLAN scores, uniform regulations, and the existential crisis that came with forgetting to submit your assignment which was set as homework. The room smelled of marker ink and quiet resentment. I sat in the third row, chewing a pen that no longer wrote, determined to keep my mouth shut.
Then Ms. Abergarth asked it, the question. Not in the abstract, but directly, with that piercing, merciless teacher stare. “So,” she said, “what does it mean to disturb the universe?”
The silence that followed was immaculate. You could hear the ceiling fan stutter. Someone coughed, as though clearing their conscience. I thought if I stayed perfectly still, I might merge with the furniture.
But apparently my survival instincts had the day off.
“It’s like when you hit the vending machine and it actually works,” I heard myself say.
Heads turned. A few laughs scattered through the room like startled pigeons. Ms. Abergarth raised an eyebrow, the kind of eyebrow that could revoke oxygen privileges. “Go on,” she said.
My brain panicked. Words spilled out like coins from a broken slot. “You know, everything’s supposed to stay orderly, predictable. Then something small… interrupts it.” I gestured vaguely at the flickering lights. “And suddenly, everyone looks up.” I hadn’t meant to sound
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: framework - commitment title: my…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: I begin by acknowledging the traditional owners of the land on which this parliament sits, and I pay my…
I begin by acknowledging the traditional owners of the land on which this parliament sits, and I pay my respects to the elders past, present and emerging.
I thank the residents of Hotham, for placing their trust in me. I express gratitude to my family, friends and campaign, without whom i would not have found my calling
Growing up, I've been seen firsthand how communities thrive when everyone is treated with respect and dignity. My calling has taught me that public service demands listening, humility and persistence. Those experiences shape my understanding of the world and represent the values I bring to this role.
I enter this parliament because I believe we must do something more to respond to the problems, and we must commit to advocacy. An issue that compels with me deeply is gender based violence. It springs from power imbalances, that undermines safety and is so often hidden.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Do i dare disturb the universe?
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: Two weeks in and I think I’m finally settling in. The eerie silence, muffled crying, constant smell of death.…
Two weeks in and I think I’m finally settling in. The eerie silence, muffled crying, constant smell of death. All the normal things you’d expect to feel and sense at your workplace. So far I’ve buried 11 bodies. All of which were the elderly, ones who had fulfilled their lives. Today was my 12th burial and I had my trusty shovel already with me, I swiftly walked by the rows of crosses and gravestones, it seemed never ending. But I know there was an end. There’s always an end to all things. Good or bad, all things must come to an end.
I had reached the end there were only two people draped in black. A change to the big crowds of my other burials. The air shifted, I could feel my heartbeat, this was new. As I approached the two figures were young, a man and a woman. Perhaps the children? As I approached they saw me and walked up to me. The man spoke in a solemn tone “Good evening Mr Gravedigger, I hope you’re doing well.”
“I’m doing fine my good sir, I wish you many sympathies, and I am so very sorry for your loss” I replied to them
“Thank you. It means a lot to us. Our son was only 8 after all.” The woman said
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Prompt: Discovering Joy Title: Where I…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 77.5%: "Where I belong, I shine." Young teen's environmental school project helps improve the lives of millions in…
"Where I belong, I shine."
Young teen's environmental school project helps improve the lives of millions in Thailand
By Mary Cook. Published 17 September 2025
It all started with an A+, and grew into a global sensation. Jenny Palmer, a 16 year old student has recently developed technology to help clear the waterways from pollution in Bangkok. Her initiative has received recognition from the Thai government and is beginning to be copied all across the world.
Drafting a new craft: Development of Ecotech
Two years ago, Palmer was staying up late, like many other students, trying to finish her report before the deadline. "That's when my interest began to grow" she claims. Through her deep dive into the internet, she came across the concept of 'Ecotech' which revolves around making sustainable technology to reusing harmful wastes such as plastic rather than natural resources like fossil fuels and metals. "I realised that everything in my room was made from these materials and depriving the Earth."
She created the draft of her very own 'Ecotech', which consists of a biodegradable net used from recycled material such as milk cartons which trap litter found in streams. "After it collects rubbish, people can easily scoop it out of the water and into a garbage truck in a matter of minutes."
However, this was a mere idea, until she visited Bangkok, Thailand where her mother is from. She explains that, "Well my dad is from Australia, and since I lived here my whole life I forgot how privileged our lifestyle is. I only realised that when I was on a motorcycle with my cousin and witnessed the brown water amongst the large amounts of packaging above."
Let it grow: How Jenny's idea came into life
"I needed to do something about this and I knew exactly how to do it."
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Reconnection - Nature
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: Centuries have passed, years have vanished with a flick of a finger. New species have risen from the earth and…
Centuries have passed, years have vanished with a flick of a finger. New species have risen from the earth and ruled it with all their might, and they have fallen on that same earth. Death has come and plucked countless lives, like petals, their memories lost in the air, forever gone.
Yet here I remain.
Untouched by death, void of fear.
You humans are right, water does hold memories. We not only immortalize them, we immortalize them. And today I will pass those memories in hope you humans, the present rulers of earth, with your fancy machines and concrete buildings, have mercy on your mother.
Even water has a home. My home is the ocean. 6.7 billion years ago, I resided in the depths of it. I can still feel its youth, its purity, and innocence. Life had just started booming, and new species started appearing every day. The vibrant corals used to call out to me, 'Come let me cleanse you, come'. Numerous bustled through me, some with psychedelic patterns, others with toned blues and grays. Although they all had tremendous differences, somehow they all lived with unity; every predator, prey, parasite, and plant existed in a fragile balance. It was as though they knew deep down that even a tip of the scale would send us all crashing down. I loved the sea; I was a part of it. When the ocean would rejoice, I would holler up to the heavens; when the ocean would wail over the death of its people, I would shriek in pain. The ocean was me, and I was the ocean.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Do I dare disturb the universe?”
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Title: "Do I dare disturb the universe" monologue “Do I dare disturb the universe?”
Title: "Do I dare disturb the universe" monologue
“Do I dare disturb the universe?”
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: “Do I dare disturb the universe?”
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 65%: “Do I dare disturb the universe?”
“Do I dare disturb the universe?”
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Stand out! Do I dare disturb the universe
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: The first second after the candle is lit. A child is born. His family rejoices. The candle flickers with a…
The first second after the candle is lit. A child is born. His family rejoices. The candle flickers with a warmth and a brightness that could illuminate even the darkest of rooms. His first words. The candle burns brighter. His first steps. The candle burns brighter. For the first second in his 5 second life, he seems unstoppable. Filled with ambitions, dreams, and a desire to stand out, the candle sends out blazing sparks, spitting with happiness and delight.
The second second after the candle is lit. The child matures. His family reassures. The candle flickers less brazenly now, no more stable. Its ambitions have been fed a dose of reality. His dreams of ruling as a king over a distant kingdom or a knight slaying a ferocious dragon have been extinguished. The candle burns at a steady rate. He tries to appease everyone, sometimes failing. Now a young adult, the child begins to stress. He ponders and daydreams of philosophical questions that would have once flown over his head. He becomes preoccupied, distant, and yet, determined. The air is thick, choking him with the smoke, the burdens, of everything he’s failed to change. His hands hover, and for a heartbeat, he hesitates. For the first time, he does not wait for permission. He stands out.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: 'Do I dare disturb the universe?'
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Do I dare disturb the universe? The words echoed over and over in my mind. As I stand on the edge of my…
Do I dare disturb the universe? The words echoed over and over in my mind. As I stand on the edge of my eighteenth birthday, I accept that tomorrow is the day I leave my adolescent self and become a man. In my kingdom, here at Veyndral, adulthood is not marked or celebrated by a feast nor a ceremonial beverage but is decided by mounting a majestic beast and taking to the skies. Ever since I was young, I’ve been gnawed by fear, melting my soul like candlewax, for my older brother met his end within the fangs of one of these sky-tyrants.
As I sit off the edge of my kingdom, gazing off into the horizon, staring at the vast range of jagged, volcanic and rocky mountains, breeds of drakes, dragons and other airborne animals roost in grottos around me. The sky filled with former and current peers of mine soaring with their sky-tyrants, gleefully, without a worry in the world. As the chill of the night starts to meet with my skin, my dad, the king, calls me down for my last supper as a youngling.
As our repast is concluding; my mind is racing with thoughts, ‘What if I was never meant for the skies’, ‘what if I fail?’ An elder of mine comes to me, he is the only one who sees my trepidation, the only one who doesn’t believe my fake courage, the only one who sees through my lies. He utters under his breath, slightly smirking while staring meaningfully at my shameful eyes, ‘Even a dragon’s wings tremble before the wind. Courage is not in stillness, but in flight despite the storm.’ As I bound into my bed, my elders’ words spin around my head like an axe swinging at a
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Do I dare disturb the universe?
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: Do I dare disturb the universe? The question used to excite me, like a shiver along the spine, like a whisper…
Do I dare disturb the universe? The question used to excite me, like a shiver along the spine, like a whisper of hope, like the boundless possibilities that were mine to touch. I asked myself that question in quieter times, when ambition was a friend not a shackle. I had never known how heavy the answer could become.
Among a select few, I had been summoned to wield a power older than memory; to pull the sun from its hidden cage and force it to speak our language. We were scientists, greying men in lab coats. But in those cramped government laboratories, we were gods. Each formula was a shimmering promise, each successful reaction, a prayer that sun had answered. We were inventing the impossible.
Our lives of study and work had all been building up to this. And when it succeeded, when the pilot pressed that small red button, and the brilliant searing light split the sky, the thrill was almost unbearable. As that far off city disappeared under the mushroom cloud, I could only sit in shock. It was as if the universe had bent to our will.
At first, the pride was intoxicating. We spoke of precision and scientific triumph, hoping that the brilliance of the blast lay the promise of peace. Telling ourselves that we were the shield, not the sword. They spoke of a greater good, and for a time, I mistook their conviction for
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: "Stand Out" Do I dare disturb the…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 67.5%: The first second after the candle is lit. A child is born. His family rejoices. The candle flickers with a…
The first second after the candle is lit. A child is born. His family rejoices. The candle flickers with a warmth and a brightness that could illuminate even the darkest of rooms. His first words. The candle burns brighter. His first steps. The candle burns brighter. For the first second in his 5 second life, he seems unstoppable. Filled with ambitions, dreams, and a desire to stand out, the candle sends out blazing sparks, spitting with happiness and delight.
The second second after the candle is lit. The child matures. His family reassures. The candle flickers less brazenly now, no more stable. Its ambitions have been fed a dose of reality. His dreams of ruling as a king over a distant kingdom or a knight slaying a ferocious dragon have been extinguished. The candle burns at a steady rate. He tries to appease everyone, sometimes failing. Now a young adult, the child begins to stress. He ponders and daydreams of philosophical questions that would have once flown over his head. He becomes preoccupied, distant, and yet, determined. He has made up his mind. He will choose to shatter the burdens now growing upon him. He will choose to stand out.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: "Stand Out" Do I dare disturb the…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: The first second after the candle is lit. A child is born. His family rejoice. The candle flickers with a…
The first second after the candle is lit. A child is born. His family rejoice. The candle flickers with a warmth and a brightness that could illuminate even the darkest of rooms. His first words. The candle burns brighter. his first steps. The candle burns brighter. For the first second in his 5 second life, he seems unstoppable. Filled with ambitions, dreams, and a desire to stand out, the candle sends out blazing sparks, spitting with happiness and delight.
The second second after the candle is lit. The child matures. His family reassures. The candle flickers less brazenly now, no more stable. Its ambitions have been fed a dose of reality. His dreams of ruling as a king over a distant kingdom or a knight slaying a ferocious dragon have been extinguished. The candle burns at a steady rate. He tries to appease everyone, sometimes failing. Now a young adult, the child begins to stress. He ponders and daydreams of philosophical questions that would have once flown over his head. He become preoccupied, distant, and yet, determined. He has made up his mind. He will choose to shatter the burdens now growing upon him. He will choose to stand out.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Resist and Persist (stimulus: an image…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 90%: Our protests can only dismantle the structures that confine us, after we have broken the silence that sustains…
Our protests can only dismantle the structures that confine us, after we have broken the silence that sustains them.
Good morning, members of Parliament. As I stand before you today, as a young Australian woman, I ask: If our voices hold no power, why do you try to silence us?
Why are we called disruptive, emotional, irrational for campaigning against our own oppression? Why is our anger deemed dangerous while your indifference is seen as order?
As women stand up to sexist remarks, we’re told, “Don’t be so sensitive.”
As women speak out against assault, we’re told, “Not all men.”
As women are killed, you call it “senseless” violence.
This is not senseless. It is femicide—systemic, patterned, preventable. Each death is not a falling domino but a deliberate push by the same hands that refuse to intervene. And your sympathy without action is complicity; your performative statements are the silence that sustains this chain reaction.
Every day, women resist—against jokes, policies, and the constant expectation to stay quiet. Our protest lives not just in marches, but in moments: when we challenge a sexist remark, demand equal pay, walk home with keys between our fingers, and still refuse to shrink. Each act of defiance is a hand halting the next domino. Resistance is not chaos—it’s the only thing stopping collapse.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: title: to know country is to know…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 95%: The morning light in Jaffna always began with sound — roosters crowing, bicycle bells chiming, the distant call…
The morning light in Jaffna always began with sound — roosters crowing, bicycle bells chiming, the distant call of vendors threading through the humid haze. The air carried jasmine and smoke, the sweetness of coconut oil and the salt of the sea. Somewhere, Amma’s ladle struck the side of a pot — a small, rhythmic drum. The world smelled of spice and sun-warmed dust. It was not simply where I lived; it was the pulse that kept me alive.
I was the eldest of seven. Our house was a narrow spine of rooms and voices — a space where stories were told through food, through gesture, through the gentle authority of Amma brushing stray rice from the table. We believed the world began at our front gate and ended at the mango tree down the road. Country was both map and heartbeat.
Then came the day that unstitched everything.
The knock — three hard blows that shook the walls — the thunder of boots, the collapse of certainty. Soldiers poured in, their voices clashing with the sound of Amma’s pot hitting the floor. Laughter turned to echo. Safety to silence. The world I knew folded in on itself like a torn letter.
I fled with what I could carry. From the small plane window, I watched Sri Lanka dissolve beneath clouds, the red earth fading to white. I told myself I would rebuild somewhere else, but I didn’t yet understand: when you leave Country, the outline of yourself blurs.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: personal journeys
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 72.5%: Jason’s bloodshot eyes reflected in the subway window like twin rubies as the midnight train screamed towards…
Jason’s bloodshot eyes reflected in the subway window like twin rubies as the midnight train screamed towards the city. His skeletal body curled into the corner seat, a cloud of nicotine and bottom-shelf liquor clinging to his unwashed clothes. Purple bruises flowering across his knuckles from the brawl outside a club. He fumbled with the small plastic bag of pills that promised to silence the relentless voice in his head that whispered he’d never be anything more than a burnout destined to disappoint everyone who’d ever bothered to care. One by one he admired each pill, pupils bright beneath the harsh carriage lights. Electrified by the promise of escape. No judgement, no responsibility, just release. Stepping out of the real world had become a comfort to Jason, away from the persistent bullying, the bad grades, and the quiet loneliness that followed him everywhere.
The train sighed to a stop. Jason stumbled onto the platform, disoriented, the tiles tilting underfoot. The rails shimmered with light, two narrow paths vanishing into blackness. A pulse of air rose from the tunnel, pulling him forward. For a moment, he imagined letting it take him. Then a powerful hand caught his sleeve and jerked him back. He fell hard. The stranger’s breath smelled faintly of rain and metal. “Careful,” was all he said before disappearing into the crowd.Jason stayed on the cold solidified ground for a while, the noise of the city folding around him. Across the yellow line, the tracks hummed softly, as if still remembering the train that had just passed. He stared at them until they blurred, a single thread of light running deeper than he could see.
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: Journey to success
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 75%: Talent. A gift. A curse. It begins like a spark- full and bright with promise, entailing everyone gazing upon…
Talent. A gift. A curse. It begins like a spark- full and bright with promise, entailing everyone gazing upon it as a pathway to success. My powerful hands were kept sacred, where a single bruise or scratch would result in vast consequences. Looking past the faded leather belt and down to the previous week’s bruises on my legs, they were soon covered by my tan silk pants, assisted by my mother. It acted as a barrier to disconnect my external life and home life, characterised by blood, sweat, and tears. The blood soaked into my clear white socks, which were supposedly picked out to match my bright off-blue-tinged shirt. This shirt, my favourite, corresponded to my steel-blue eyes, allowing them to sparkle- although some days it had felt like that sparkle was a tear being trapped like a rat in a maze, dying to escape. As I stared down the barrel of the hot sun, shining with the sheen of a shotgun, my pupils constricted in agony. It was the only option. ... Hard work fused with talent oozing with screeches of pure discomfort has led to this point. Flicking the tassel from right to left, embarking on a new journey with new steps coincided with mortarboards flying in the air in cohesion. Surprise, happiness, and tears filled the lively atmosphere, which screamed new beginnings. These new beginnings smelled of love, yearning, and determination, requiring grit to accomplish your dreams of varying characteristics. A firefighter for some, a doctor for others, brought together by the longing to step forward in unison, making the people they love most proud. This hard work, like no other,
VCE · Creative Response
Creative Response: First Steps “Only those who will risk…
VCE Creative Response essay scoring 85%: First Steps
First Steps