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Model Composition - An unexpected event at a picnic

Updated: Jun 18

When it comes to storytelling, the rising action is a crucial component that often goes unnoticed by students. The rising action serves as the build-up to the main climax of a narrative, where tension and conflict gradually escalate, drawing the audience deeper into the story.

By neglecting the rising action, students miss out on understanding the need to build in a foreshadow. It sets the stage for the climax, providing a context for maximum impact.

Therefore, it is essential for students to recognise the importance of the rising action in storytelling. By paying attention to this often overlooked element, they can appreciate how it contributes to the overall narrative structure, enhances the reader's engagement, and enriches the storytelling experience as a whole. Take a look at how we've adjusted the content of the original composition. This is a Primary 4 composition.

Original Composition

"I'm so bored during the school holidays!" I muttered as I slouched on the couch. It was a mundane Monday morning and it was the school holidays. Suddenly, the phone rang shrilly. My ears perked up and my eyes lit up. I rubbed my hands in glee as I eagerly answered the phone It was my bosom buddy, Ella. She informed me that our entire group of friends would be going to the nearby park to have a picnic and she asked me if I could join. I agreed. I jumped for joy. With that, I went to change and headed out to the nearby park which was just minutes away. 

Upon setting foot in the park, lush and verdant greenery greeted me. The birds were chirping merrily as the trees sways in the breeze. I skipped to the tree where my friends were. "Wow!" I gasped in awe as my eyes landed on the scrumptious array of food that seemed to be calling out to me! There were chicken wings, fishballs, sandwiches and many more! We all tucked in while chatting boisterously about the latest trends and gossips. "Why don't we play a game of Frisbee after eating?" John suggested while holding up a multi-coloured Frisbee. We all agreed as we whopped for joy. We quickly stuffed the food down our throats and rushed off to play a game of Frisbee. Little did everyone know that trouble was looming…

As soon as we left our food, the crows above us swooped down and began eating our food. However, we were too engrossed and did not see what was happening. "Pass the Frisbee to me!" Tom shouted gleefully as he waved his hands up and down frantically. We were totally oblivious of what was happening. The crows were happilly munching our food. When we finally ended the game, we were hot and sweaty. We all trooped back to our picnic mat. As soon as we got there, our eyes widened in shock and our mouths were agape. We could not believe our eyes. We were all frozen for a moment. Regaining my compsure, I rushed over and tried to swat the annoying crows away. However, my effort were futile. The crows screeched at us, as if saying, "Too bad!" Furious, we all wrecked our brains for an idea to chase the pesky crows away. "We can throw stones at them!" James shouted over the din. 

Collecting as many stones as we could, we hurled the stones at them with all our might. The crows eventually flew off. We heaved a sigh of relief. Just then, a passer-by walked over and reprimanded us sternly. "You should not have left your food unattended and throws stones at the crows. This is hurting our wildlife!" We apologised sincerely, our heads hung low. Our faces was as red as a tomato. We promised never to hurt wildlife. It was certainly an unexpected event at a picnic. When I went back home, my mother scolded me again and explained why.

As I laid in bed that night, I reflected on the day's events. I felt remorseful for hurling stones at the crows. This incident was indelibly etched in my head forever. I vowed to never, ever hurt wildlife ever again Indeed, I had a truly unexpected event at a picnic. I learnt a valuable lesson that day.


Model Composition

"Hey, everyone!" I called out, waving as I approached my friends gathered under our favorite rain tree that crisp morning. Though it was a Monday, the park was already alive with the sounds of joy and freedom.

Ella turned and her face lit up like a sunrise. "Over here!" she beckoned, her enthusiasm infectious. I hurried over, gasping in awe as my eyes landed on the spread. John, James and Tom were already stuffing their faces in the scrumptious array of food on the colourful patchwork of the picnic mat. 

I sat down, rubbing my hands in glee as I tucked in, the stress of examinations already a distant memory.


Overhead, a murder of crows perched on the branches of a nearby tree, their black feathers stark against the lush green canopy. 

"What's with those crows?" Tom asked, glancing up and making a face.

"Maybe they're plotting to steal our food," John joked, tossing a grape in their direction. The crows fluttered but did not take off, watching us with beady eyes.

We shrugged it off, returning to our conversation and snacks. The morning was too beautiful to let a few noisy birds spoil it. Occasionally, one would take flight, circling overhead before returning to its perch, as if keeping an eye on us. 


James, always full of energy, suddenly bounced to his feet with a bright idea. "Hey, how about a game of frisbee?" he suggested gleefully, holding up a brightly colored disc.

"Great idea!" Ella exclaimed, her eyes lighting up and everyone else agreed enthusiastically. "Do you think they'll try to steal our food?" John asked, his brows furrowing with slight concern.

I shrugged, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. "I doubt it. They wouldn't be that daring."

With that, we left our mat and moved to an open area nearby to start our game. But barely had we started, before the air could be filled out laughter, when a sudden flurry of black wings descended. We turned in shock, our mouths agape, to see the crows swooping down on our picnic, their beaks and claws attacking the food with surprising ferocity.

"They're stealing our food!" John, the first to regain composure, shouted, running to save what he could.

We all rushed back, waving our arms frantically and yelling to shoo the birds away in futility; the crows were relentless, their eyes glinting with determination. They pecked and clawed, refusing to give up their loot easily. One even lunged at James, who narrowly dodged its sharp beak.

"Get away!" Tom screamed, grabbing a branch and swinging it at the pesky birds. But they only fluttered back momentarily before diving in again, their caws loud and furious.

In the chaos, I realised how wrong I had been to underestimate them. It felt like a battle for our right to enjoy the day, and the crows were winning.


"We need to do something more!" I shouted, ducking another swooping bird. "Gather some stones!"

We quickly scattered, searching for stones. With handfuls of small rocks, we regrouped and prepared to defend our picnic. 

"Take that!""And that!"

At first, the crows seemed unfazed, avoiding the stones with surprising agility. But as our aim improved and more stones found their mark, the crows began to falter. A particularly well-aimed throw from Ella hit the largest crow squarely, causing it to screech and retreat.

"Keep going!" I urged, feeling a surge of hope. "We're driving them back!"

One by one, the crows started to withdraw and with a final barrage of stones, we managed to drive them away, their dark shapes disappearing into the trees.

Breathless, triumphant, and a bit disheveled, we stood over our picnic, grinning at each other.


We were about to celebrate our hard-won victory when a stern voice cut through our joy.

"You kids should know better than to leave food unattended!" a passer-by scolded, his expression disapproving. "It's your own fault the crows came."

The reprimand hit us like a bucket of cold water. We exchanged embarrassed glances, our triumph suddenly feeling hollow. The man shook his head and walked away, leaving us to pack up our picnic in awkward silence.

We quietly gathered our things and headed home, each of us lost in our thoughts. When I got home, my mother noticed my somber mood and asked what had happened.

I recounted the day's events, from the fun we had to the chaos with the crows and the passer-by’s stern reprimand. She listened patiently, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.

"Crows are just being crows," she explained gently. "They're intelligent and opportunistic. They saw a chance and took it. But it's also a reminder that we need to be responsible for our actions. Leaving food unattended was an open invitation for them."

As I laid in bed remorsefully that night, my mother’s words echoed in my mind. I replayed the day’s events, realising that we had been careless. The crows had acted on instinct, while we had acted without thinking.

This unexpected event had taught me a valuable lesson, one that was indelibly etched in my mind - I understood now that thoughtless actions brought about consquences.

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