万万没想到，重金训练的“满分作文”，却堵死了孩子们的英国名校路

2025-09-17

作文不会写，怎么办？——背单词、找模版、背范文，这可能是很多人的第一想法。可当孩子真正踏上英国名校申请路时，却发现这些“满分作文培训班教的套路”在名校眼里全是雷点。

先不谈单词拼写、语法基础这些，问问大家：在英国招生官的眼中，一个有潜能的10岁的孩子写作的样本，应该是什么样？

今天，我们就通过必益学子真实的UKiset写作案例来聊聊，留学英国的道路上，招生官想要的“才能”是什么。

恭喜BE学子暑期喜提高分！

英国招生官喜欢的“人味写作”

到底长啥样

UKiset是英国中学入学考试的一部分。写作部分是手写的，作文会和整份成绩一同寄送给学校，成为招生官参考孩子思维和写作能力的重要依据。

作文的题目：Write a letter to a friend about “stranger danger”（“给朋友写信，讲一个关于‘陌生人危险’的事件”）。

10岁的BE学子C同学的作文，成功帮助她拿到 Downe House 和 CLC 的录取。

滑动查看英文

亲爱的无名氏：

写下这些的时候，我仍然犹豫着，到底要不要把这件毛骨悚然的事说出来，还是干脆藏在心里。只要一想起那晚的场景，恐惧就会再次涌上心头。

昨天傍晚，我在回家的路上，经过一处工地时，一个陌生的念头突然闯进我的脑海，我不由自主地加快了脚步。天上的满月就像一支微弱的蜡烛，照亮着深蓝色的夜空，几缕云慢悠悠地飘过。冷风钻进我的身体，我忍不住打了个寒颤。忽然，我感到书包里一阵轻微的震动。我伸手去摸手机，是一条来自——的信息，他正站在一盏忽明忽暗的路灯下。我回了一个语音，声音压得极低，不比耳语大多少，一股刺痛般的不安顺着血管蔓延开来。隧道里空无一人，我的肩膀暂时放松下来。可就在我转身的那一刻，我猛地一跳，狠狠摔在了冰冷的水泥地上，痛得咬紧牙关，发出一声压抑的尖叫。

一个男人出现在我面前。他戴着一顶压得很低的帽子，遮住了大半张脸，只露出嘴唇。他的嘴唇微微颤抖，带着烦躁。我至今记得那股刺鼻的烟味。震惊和恐惧让我慌忙爬起。他伸出一只手，那只手布满伤疤，泛着肮脏的黄色。我立刻把它推开。他的眼神死死盯着我，身体摇晃，脑袋东倒西歪，像头眩晕的公牛。“砰！”的一声巨响，我的头猛然一痛，眼前一切都模糊了。我想，大概过了几分钟，我才恢复意识，发现自己正躺在路边的地上。爬起来环顾四周，那个人已经不见了。

今天翻报纸时，我又看到了他的脸，印在醒目的大字标题“通缉”下面。——我该怎么办？

Dear Anonymous,

Writing this, I’m still indecisive about whether to report this spine-chilling event or keep it to myself. Fear lurks in me whenever that event comes to mind.

Yesterday’s evening I was on the way home, passed the construction place when an intruder invaded my thoughts. I started accelerating my pace. The full moon was a feeble candle illuminating the navy sky with sauntering clouds. A cold breeze penetrated through my body and I responded with a shudder. Suddenly, I felt a slight vibration in my backpack. I reached out my hand to check my phone. It was a message from ___, standing under a flickering streetlight. I sent a voice audio. I kept my voice low, not more than a whisper, prickling sensation of unease ran down my veins. Tunnels—nothing. My shoulders went down for the moment. Just as I turned back, I jumped, landing hard on the bare concrete, gave a hushed scream of pain through my gritted teeth.

A man, who was wearing a cap that was pulled low covering most of his face other than his lips, whose lips quivered in irritation. I can remember that unpleasant acrid of cigarettes. Shocked and petrified, I hastily got up. He offered his hand, that was scarred and a filthy shade of yellow. I shoved it away. His gaze was forced on me, hips quivering, head for random directions like a dizzy ox. BANG! Pain striked in my head. Everything was blurred. I think it was a few minutes after I was knocked out, I found myself lying on the pavement. I got up, I look around—the man was not there anymore.

Today when reading through the newspaper I saw his face again under the bold lettering “WANTED”. What should I do?