I am currently re-attempting this assesment and was wondering if anyone would take the time to read through and tell me what I could do to get excellence. Any help would be greatly appreciated, thanks.
The tree stood, resolute. Pink and white polka dot bedsheet stretched out as far as the eye could see. Peacefully, light streamed through a plethora of light pink petals. Bubblegum flowers clung tightly to the branches. Eventually, in the subtle sway of the great tree, petals shook off and traced their way down setting down softly into the Snow’s embrace. A few petals landed softly on Sakura’s shoulders, nestling into the fabric of her wool coat.
Sakura released a soft breath into the sweet winter air, leaning back on the bench. Shuddering, the time-worn bench threatened to give way. Her face was equally bitten by winter, and worn by the long journey. Sakura’s fawn eyes settled upon the tree in much the same way a mouse would look at a skyscraper, full of wonder and worry. Sakura’s inky hair was at the wind’s complete mercy, blown about as a boat on the high seas.
Her mouth upturned slightly at the thought of a joke she had once been told. In her memory, her laugh flowed like silk through the air, her brother had just told her what she thought–at the time-- was the funniest thing she had ever heard. At the thought of her brother, she frowned. “Wonder what he’s doing, probably living it up in his fancy villa by the beach” she said aloud, letting her head rest on the bench. She shook her head, as if that would get the thought out. She hadn’t seen him in years. She couldn’t see him, he made sure of that.
“Even if her father had made sure they didn’t contact each other, with his influence and power, surely her brother would try.” She thought, solemnly. Sakura closed her eyes, listening to the harmonic song of the birds interrupting the blissful silence. She relished in the song and drummed her nimble fingers on the side of the bench. “Maybe he doesn’t want to…” Sakura thought as she felt herself slip into slumber.
A dream filled her head–well it was more of a memory than a dream. She saw the face of her mother, smiling down at a 6 year old Sakura. “Can I put the decorations on the tree, Mama?” she asked, her voice trembling with excitement. “Of course, sweetheart,” her mother answered, hoisting Sakura onto her shoulders. The memory fades with the faint smell of her mother cooking finding its way to her.
Hours later, a squirrel scampered up the side of the tree and disappeared into the lush foliage. Pink confetti continued to float down from the tree, Sakura was buried under a thin coating of snow and petals. Bees darted in and out of the flowers of the magnificent tree, picking up pollen in their heavy saddlebags.
As the snow began to fall again, Sakura rose from the bench, wiping her eyes. Petals and snow fell to the ground around her boots. “It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t want to see her, she had her own life with her mother; she was happy” Pulling up her hood, she wandered away, heading home with the promise of the warm meal awaiting her.