Week 4 Writing Homework
Writing Prompt: Write about a drone delivering a mystery package
to the school oval.
Using the techniques you’ve learned, craft a story with three
escalating problems that build tension effectively.
Requirements:
Include all three escalating problems
Use varied sentence structures
Incorporate sensory details for suspense
Show character reactions to rising tension
Word count: 250-300 words
Please upload your homework as a comment below:
- Due Date : August 22, 2025
- Feedback will be shared in 3-5 days
16 thoughts on “Week 4 Writing Homework”
A box with a bomb
In the middle of lunch, when the bell rings, children rush out with excitement, chatting, eating, and playing. But suddenly, a drone flew on the horizon of the sky slicing the clouds and released a box on the oval, children’s eyes flickered, staring at the box. Curiously. The clouds were as gray as the dust on the window flying in the sky. Then one student touched it but he was scared, closed his eyes. He touched it. The black smoke flew out of the box, and the boy asked “What is that?” The principal yelled “Don’t touch it.”Children stood around boxes freezed like six thousand tons of rock sitting around an iceberg. The students trying not to look back their hearts were pounding as fast as a cheetah running around the grasses.
For a long period of time, the military came into the school and researched the box carefully. It was a bomb. Students ran out and screamed, scaring the birds away from every direction, teachers tried to calm the students down, but it didn’t work. The voice was so loud that it nearly exploded the bomb. MIltary took it back however it exploded and strongly damaged the classrooms some students got injured, and went to the hospital. Students’ tears ran out from their eyes like making a sea at school with tears. The fire got awakened, it roared to the buildings. Fortunately the water bucket on the sky poured down water and stopped the fire.
Days to days the school got rebuilt by the workers and the school is fine now, the joy came back again, and then students came back to school to study again.
Please see the attached PDF for the feedback.
4-Yiming Kong
A flat, mechanic whirr cut through the buzz of the lunchtime chatter. All eyes immediately drew to the sky, where a gleaming drone was hovering above the grass.i spotted a small cyan package on the drone‘s grabber arm, whih no-one seemed to care about.I tentatively reached for the small package.My fingers brushed the crinkled paper, reaching for the parcel as if i was drawn to it.A sudden, loud noise made me jump.” FREYA LEVESQUE! WHAT-ARE-YOU-DOING?” the voice bellowed. Mr Bellow came striding out of his office, wearing his usual crisp grey suit and black tie. His red flaming hair and obsidian eyes, calculating and cold, gave us the impression of a demonic buisnessman. “FREYA LEVESQUE! I-SAID-GET-AWAY!” He roared. I stepped back, my hands shaking like leaves tossed about in the wind. His permanent scowl had deepened, revealing crease marks on his forehead. He snatches up the parcel, and briskly turns away. It could have been my imagination-the tiniest flash of fear on his seething face-but I was sure it was real.
I silently crept out of my dormitory bed, and tiptoed barefoot to the window.I heaved the glass pane up, and then reached for the cicada-green pipe to my left.I stealthily shimmied up the pipe, stopping at the topmost floor of the building.I leaned in closer, my toes gripping the balcony but my hands clutching the pipe tightly for a quick getaway. “Why did they send this-“came one voice, whom I was sure was Ms Chadbanne. “Dangerous.” Another voice agreed.”If it really came from Gunflint, consider this as our final warning.”rumbled a deep voice, unmistakably Mr Bellow. My mind spun with unanswered questions. They were talking about the parcel. But who was Gunflint? And what did he have to do with the school? I scrambled back down the pipe and crawled into bed, my heart pounding in my ears.
The next day, all of my lessons seemed to last for three seconds.Even the hour-long grammar lecture seemed to last a minute or so. I shimmied up the pipe for a second time, listening to the teachers talk about the parcel. Despite searching Gunflint, I couldn’t come up with a single answer. There were musician Gunflints. Lake Gunflint. Even a state called Gunflint! As I lean closer to the balcony, listening to the teachers, ears pricked for the slightest whisper about who this Gunflint might be, I lose my grip on the pipe. I lurch onto the balcony, and to my great horror, my bracelet flies off, its beads glinting smugly as if to mock me, and hits the metal railing with a metallic CLANG. The door opens. To even greater horror, Mr Bellow is at the door. He sees me, sprawled on the balcony in my pajamas, my face a shade of beetroot. To be continued…
The lunch bell rang and chatter filled the schoolyard. Then came a sound no one expected. A low, mechanical buzzing that sliced through the air. Heads tilted upward. A black drone hovered above the oval, its lights blinking red and green. Something dangled beneath it, a box, tightly wrapped in silver foil. The blades whirred so fiercely that even the gum trees shuddered. A ripple of unease spread through the crowd.
With a sudden jerk, the drone released . The package hit the grass with a heavy clunk, as if something metallic hid inside. Laughter died instantly. “What’s in it?” someone whispered. Teachers called for everyone to stand back, but their voices wavered, thin and uncertain. The oval, usually safe and sunny, suddenly felt dangerous, as if the air itself had sharpened. However, the drone didn’t leave. Instead, it circled lower, like a hawk protecting its prey. The buzzing deepened, slicing the silence. When Mr Patel dared to step forward, the machine swooped. Its shadow skimmed the grass, and he stumbled back, his tie flapping wildly. Everyone gasped.
Then came the sound that twisted the tension into terror. Tick. Tick. Tick. It came from the package. At first faint, then louder, steady as a heartbeat. Panic spread like fire through the dry grass. “It’s a bomb!” a boy shouted, and chaos erupted. Teachers shouted instructions, their voices cracking as they tried to herd students toward the gates. Feet pounded against the ground. Even the air tasted metallic, thick and rusty.
The wind shifted, carrying the faintest sound, like a melody warbling just out of reach. The package seemed to pulse with itz, as though it were alive, waiting, demanding attention. A low, ominous whir from the drone sent a chill across the skin of anyone daring to look. The oval, once familiar and safe, now felt like the edge of something unknown, a place where rules no longer applied.The drone hovered closer, tilting slightly as if leaning in, observing, warning. The tension coiled tighter with every second. The ticking—persistent, insistent—was no longer background noise. It was a signal, a call to remind everyone that it was just the beginning of a mystery.
Please see the attached PDF for the feedback.
4-chasenew
Writing
A flat, mechanic whirr cut through the buzz of the lunchtime chatter. All eyes immediately drew to the sky, where a gleaming drone was hovering above the grass. I spotted a small cyan package on the drone‘s grabber arm, which no-one seemed to care about. I tentatively reached for the small package. My fingers brushed the crinkled paper, reaching for the parcel as if i was drawn to it. A sudden, loud noise made me jump. “FREYA LEVESQUE! WHAT-ARE-YOU-DOING?” the voice bellowed. Mr Bellow came striding out of his office, wearing his usual crisp grey suit and black tie. His red flaming hair and obsidian eyes, calculating and cold, gave us the impression of a demonic buisnessman. “FREYA LEVESQUE! I-SAID-GET-AWAY!” He roared. I stepped back, my hands shaking like leaves tossed about in the wind. His permanent scowl had deepened, revealing crease marks on his pale forehead. He snatches up the parcel with a growl like a tiger that had just missed its prey. He stomps back to his office, muttering something about children needing a good spanking. It could have been my imagination-the tiniest flash of fear on his seething face-but I was sure it was real.
I silently crept out of my dormitory bed, and tiptoed barefoot to the window. I heaved the glass pane up, and then reached for the cicada-green pipe to my left. I stealthily shimmied up the pipe, stopping at the topmost floor of the building. I leaned in closer, my toes gripping the balcony but my hands clutching the pipe tightly for a quick getaway. “Why did they send this-“ came one voice, whom I was sure was Ms Chadbanne. “Dangerous.” Another voice agreed.” If it really came from Gunflint, consider this as our final warning.” rumbled a deep voice, unmistakably Mr Bellow. My mind spun with unanswered questions. They were talking about the parcel. But who was Gunflint? And what did he have to do with the school? I scrambled back down the pipe and crawled into bed, my heart pounding in my ears.
The next day, all of my lessons seemed to last for three seconds. Even the hour long grammar lecture seemed to last a minute or so. I shimmied up the pipe for a second time, listening to the teachers talk about the parcel. Despite searching up Gunflint, I couldn’t come up with a single answer. There were musician Gunflints. Lake Gunflint. Even a state called Gunflint! As I lean closer to the balcony, listening to the teachers, ears pricked for the slightest whisper about who this Gunflint might be, I lose my grip on the pipe. I lurch onto the balcony, and to my great horror, my bracelet flies off, its beads glinting smugly as if to mock me, and hits the metal railing with a loud, metallic CLANG. The sound seems to last for an eternity, its echo vibrating shrilly. The door opens. To my even greater horror, Mr Bellow is at the door. He sees me, sprawled on the balcony in my worn, navy pajamas, my face a shade of beetroot.
Then he does what I have never expected him to do.” Come sit down. I’ll explain everything.” he says dejectedly. I follow him into a cozy room with four armchairs and a plate of crackers set out on a small oak coffee table. Ms Chadbanne, Mr Artisain and Ms Morales are sitting on the armchairs, looking deep in thought and weary. Ms Chadbanne’s easy smile is gone, and there are dark shadows around Mr Artisain’s eyes.” Look, Freya.” Ms Morales says tiredly. “ Gunflint is an old enemy of mine.”she continues.” I was a judge before, and I sentenced Gunflint to a year of jail. He has been seeking revenge ever since I sentenced him.”she sighs. “What’s in the package?” I ask, curious to find out what It is. “We don’t know.” Says Ms Morales. “We think it might be some sort of bomb because it keeps ticking ominously.”she continues. I understand now. Pieces come together in my head, the clues forming into a plan. “I have an idea.” I announce. I tell them my plan. Now we just have to find Gunflint.
Please see the attached PDF for the feedback.
4-Alina Cai
The Mysterious Package
The Mysterious Package
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4-Jeff
DING DING DING DING DING! The noisy lunch bell rang. I blinked and opened my jaw to the cold pavement. Before I blinked, the playground was empty. After, the it was packed with children of all ages, chattering and laughing noisily. A strange, mechanical buzzing created a deafening silence in the normally loud playground—it was rare for there to be complete silence. Out of the dark, grey cloud, a sleek drone descended, and underneath it—a ribboned parcel. A few kids stepped closer, ignoring the teachers on duty’s warnings, while the rest stepped away, with some running back to the classroom. One of the teachers called the headmaster, who seemed to respond immediately, running from the other side of the playground. A kid named Mark, enchanted by the sudden surprise, opened the parcel without a second’s hesitation. The headmaster, now 100 metres away, called to him “DON’T TOUCH IT!!!” but it was too late. In reality, what was inside wasn’t a deadly surprise, just an award. The headmaster told us that he had recently been mailed that he was the “best voted principal” and he was being delivered a pure-gold award by drone. I was shocked how he got the first place, but looking at how many kids were peeping out of the classroom windows, I guess the 2000 parents voted for him. But sadly, it had a few minor scratches on it. Mark apologised, but the headmaster said it was okay.
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4-Caspar Luk
The carriage rattled as Mia boarded the midnight train, clutching her violin case. The fluorescent lights hummed above, and the city lights outside dissolved into darkness as the train entered a long tunnel. For a moment, everything felt ordinary—until the first problem arrived.
Without warning, the lights flickered, sputtered, and went out. The train screeched to a halt, throwing passengers into confusion. Whispers spread quickly, but before anyone could speak over the rising panic, the intercom hissed alive. Instead of the conductor’s voice, a distorted rasp filled the silence, like someone breathing too close to the microphone.
That was when the second problem began.
A blood-curdling scream echoed from the next carriage. Footsteps—too heavy, too deliberate—thudded closer. Shadows slid across the narrow aisle as terrified passengers scrambled to the back of the train. Mia’s hands shook around her violin case; she wanted to run, but the only way out was forward, past whatever was coming.
The air grew colder. The breathing grew louder.
Then the third problem struck.
The doors at the far end burst open. A figure, tall and faceless beneath a torn conductor’s cap, stepped inside. Its voice—metallic and hollow—spoke the passengers’ names one by one, as if reading from a list. When it whispered Mia, the lights blazed back on for a split second, revealing its eyeless stare fixed directly on her.
With nowhere left to run, Mia snapped open her violin case. Not for escape—but for sound. Bow meeting string, she drew out a trembling, urgent note that sliced through the carriage like a scream. The creature froze, as if the music itself pinned it in place. Louder and faster she played, until the train jolted forward again, breaking free from the tunnel into open night.
When the train screeched into the station, the figure was gone. Passengers rushed out, shaken but alive. Mia lowered her violin, her arms aching. The city lights looked warmer now, but the memory of her name whispered in the dark lingered, like a warning that the train’s midnight passenger wasn’t gone for good.
The school oval was alive with chatter when the sound came—an unfamiliar buzzing, sharp and mechanical. Heads tilted skyward. It wasn’t a bird, not even a helicopter. A sleek black drone streaked across the afternoon sky, its red lights blinking like watchful eyes.
It didn’t pass by. Instead, it circled deliberately, lowering itself until its shadow skimmed across the grass. Students dropped their footy balls, froze mid-game, and stared. Even the teachers at the sideline looked uncertain.
Dangling beneath the drone was a small box. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, tied with string, and stamped with a single black symbol no one could recognize. The drone hovered for a moment, buzzing impatiently, then released the package. It landed softly on the grass. Without hesitation, the drone shot upward and vanished into the clouds.
A hush swept over the oval. Everyone stared at the package as though it might move on its own. Some students whispered that it was a prank. Others said it had to be from the government, or spies, or maybe even aliens.
The teachers called for everyone to stay back, but curiosity was stronger than caution. A circle formed around the mysterious box. No label. No writing. No clue who it was meant for.
Finally, one brave student stepped forward. Every eye followed as she crouched, reaching out a trembling hand. The box sat still, silent, waiting.
What secrets did it hold? A gift? A warning? A trick?
No one could tell.
And on that ordinary school day, the oval became the centre of a mystery no one would forget.
New one.
The school oval was alive with chatter when the sound came—an unfamiliar buzzing, sharp and mechanical. Heads tilted skyward. It wasn’t a bird, not even a helicopter. A sleek black drone streaked across the afternoon sky, its red lights blinking like watchful eyes.
It didn’t pass by. Instead, it circled deliberately, lowering itself until its shadow skimmed across the grass. Students dropped their footy balls, froze mid-game, and stared. Even the teachers at the sideline looked uncertain.
Dangling beneath the drone was a small box. It was wrapped in plain brown paper, tied with string, and stamped with a single black symbol no one could recognize. The drone hovered for a moment, buzzing impatiently, then released the package. It landed softly on the grass. Without hesitation, the drone shot upward and vanished into the clouds.
A hush swept over the oval. Everyone stared at the package as though it might move on its own. Some students whispered that it was a prank. Others said it had to be from the government, or spies, or maybe even aliens.
The teachers called for everyone to stay back, but curiosity was stronger than caution. A circle formed around the mysterious box. No label. No writing. No clue who it was meant for.
Finally, one brave student stepped forward. Every eye followed as she crouched, reaching out a trembling hand. The box sat still, silent, waiting.
What secrets did it hold? A gift? A warning? A trick?
No one could tell.
And on that ordinary school day, the oval became the center of a mystery no one would forget.
Please see the attached PDF for the feedback.
4-Nanqiao Yu
On Diluc St, a mysterious person ordered a package that was made in the deep, blazing core of Earth! All over the world, only one exists. It is called the Mag x_x netic force slot. In the mean time, Ajaw elementary school has been shown lots of hate recently for not teaching kids manners properly. The mysterious persons name is Venti. He wanted the power if the Earth’s core so that all beings can have power. Unfortunately, Venti is going to be stressed. Right now, the mail man, Kazuha, accidently opened the grip of the drone and the package of Mag x_x netic force slot flew into the gates of Ajaw elementary school. One boy accidently kicked the package which made it sealthy as a ninja, stuck inside a bush. The Prinicipal of Ajaw elementary school, Childe, was in his office completeing his files while his pet Kinich was chasing Ajaw round and round in circles. He named the school after Ajaw (His pet pet – Kinich is his pet and Kinich’s pet is Ajaw). Aether, one of the playful kids, was playing Detecitive Keepers(If you find something around the school that no one else knows about, you get to keep it). Aether was inspecting closely, he felt icy, cool breeze on his face. While a shocked, open-mouthed, circle-shaped eyes facial reaction struck. In a bush, he saw a mysterious red glow. The closer he got, the more hollow and hotter he got. When he got right next to the bush, he was blazing full of fury and felt as empty as an infinite loop-hole. His little arm trembled as fierce as earthquakes trembling power! It was like forcing a volcano to erupt! As soon as he grabbed the wierd mysterious package, he felt a strong vlast of wind hit directly at him making him zoom to the other side of his school. With the force of courage and dtermination, he kept the package tight with grip. He never let go and squeezed the package so hard that a whole pile of sweat was formed on the ground in less than a minute. Aether’s shocked, bright face was about to turn curious. He brought the package to his secret hideout in the bushes. The members of his hideout club was him and Kinich (He is only here to accompany him – does not do anything). Aether unwrapped the package, revealing a molten rock??? It was burning red, mixed with neon yellow bright enough to blind your eyes if you stare at it for a minute. he picked it up and thought, “This could be my new, lucky stone”.