Waiting

OMG HI I'M BACK! *cheers* Neither my English teacher nor the interviewers for the DPA has deterred me from writing essays! Oops. LOL.

Joanna could feel all eyes on her as she made her way to the Nurse's office. Their eyes followed her every move, merged into a mocking stare that made her feel smaller than ever, and immensely uncomfortable in her own skin. She knew what they were saying behind her back-- that she was fat, and forever would be. Their words hurt so much that it was as though someone had sent a thousand daggers into her back.

While Joanna waited in the Nurse's office, she tried to calm her nerves down. Checking herself in the full-length mirror attached to the walls of the waiting room, she knew that what they had said, no matter how hurtful they were, was the truth. Her obesity had led to a horrible medical condition that would haunt her, perhaps, for the rest of her life. Anorexia. This word alone sent shivers down her spine. To Joanna, anorexia was not just a sickness that ate her soul and took away her flesh. Strange as it might seem, anorexia brought her hope. Anorexia was a torturous journey, a long wait, to the road of recovery. She thought that if she waited long enough, anorexia would bestow on her the gift of a svelte figure she had so desired. It was an extremely long wait, but patience was what she had. After all, she had been told that good things were worth the wait.

"Joanna Bo!" her name ricocheted off the walls of the waiting room like a bullet. All heads turned in her direction as they realised who had just been called into the office. Joanna's face burned with embarrassment. Anorexia had not only paved an alternative route for her, it had also caused her to be known to the entire school. Why she had chosen to skip her meals in order to lose weight, Joanna did not know. All she knew was that she had waited for a very long time to be thin, and when all else had failed, anorexia had opened another window of opportunity for her. She had long been tired of waiting, and so she decided that this would be the best way for her, since no amount of exercise she did worked. Never had she known that anorexia, this devil, would keep her waiting.

"Hold your breath, do not let the smell of these delicious plates of food tempt you. Persevere a while more, and the results would be worth all the waiting I've put you through. Wait, or do you not have the patience to do so?" The voices in her head prevented her from eating or enjoying her food, and even having a sip of water made her feel as though she was committing a heinous crime.

Joanna opened the door to the Nurse's office, There, right in front of her, were plates and plates of her favourite food, laid out on the table. The Nurse smiled at her reassuringly, gesturing towards the food Joanna had always wanted to eat, but had never done so as she had been waiting, always waiting, for the voices in her head to tell her that it was okay to eat.

Taking small, shaky steps as though she was learning to walk for the first time, Joanna returned the smile.

"I've had enough of waiting, miss. Anorexia's probably never going to grant me permission to eat, anyway!"

The Final Journey

NOTE: This was written during a creative writing competition our school organised.

They say that in the precious few moments that you have before you die, your entire life flashes right before you like a movie playing in the theaters. Right now, as I lay amidst a pool of crimson red that was blood, these "scenes" played on in my mind, refusing to go away even as the pain engulfed me, drowning me and threatened to consume every cell of my body. I moaned softly, hoping with all my might that this pain would leave me soon so that I could relive these memories for a second time in a peace that only Death itself could bring.

That was probably the last hope that I made, for my mind was silent for the first time in my short fifteen years as I relived my memories. Even the intense pain that was now a part of me was the last thing on my mind. Three memories lingered in my mind, the most significant ones amongst others.

The first memory took place more than a decade ago. Mother was standing in front of me, her arms stretched out widely as if preparing to embrace me. There was even a hint of a smile on Father's usually unsmiling lips* as he stood silently in a corner, watching me as a toddler taking my first step. I fell, as expected, a couple of times, but eventually made it to Mother's arms, which wrapped around me tightly. Her lips were soft and warm against my tiny forehead. Father strode over to me, again a hint of a smile on his lips* as he patted my head awkwardly with his rough palms. The dying fifteen year old me smiled. Tears flowed down my cheeks, hot against my cold body, bringing with it a warmth that I had never felt before.

The next memory happened a few years later, after I had learned to walk. I was seven, preparing to start my first day in primary school. Mother was there with me, holding my tiny hands, walking towards a tall, red building that I was going to spend the next 6 years in. "It's going to be alright, dear." her words brought me comfort and calmed the 7 year old me down. I glanced up at her, giving Mother a wide grin. She smiled reassuringly back at me, slowly letting my hand go and watching me walk slowly towards my primary school, blending in with a hundred other children before turning back home.

The third, and last memory happened a few hours before my death. "I hate you!" I screamed at Mother, while I threw a few T-shirts and shorts into my backpack. I stormed out of the house, slamming the door in her face. Anger pulsed through my veins. I was so angry, I could not think sensibly, let alone walk properly. I did not see a van approaching me. I walked on, my fists clenched, when suddenly everything became black. A warm and sticky liquid spread around me and I opened my eyes weakly, only to sea the van speeding away, only this time, my dying self could not feel the pain. Immense anger was all I felt.

Father had left when I was only ten years old. Mother, whom I loved with all my heart, was the one who had brought me up and provided me with most of my memories. And yet, the selfish me had fought with Mother over a small matter. I hated myself for bringing this hurt to her. I did not even have the chance to tell her that I loved her and was sorry.

The memories finally left my mind, and it was then that my last breath finally left me. This is my story. The final journey of my life.

* END *

P/S: As usual, comments are hugely appreciated and I would LOVE it if you included these points in your comments:
- What you liked about my essay
- What you disliked about my essay (or least like or whatever)
- What I can do to improve my essay
- How much, on a scale of 1 to 10, you would rate me as a 1.) 'O' Level marker [or an extremely strict teacher with very high standards] and 2.) judge for this writing competition.

Yay thanks a lot (:
I'm thinking of continuing with this story. Not sure, though. To be honest, I quite like this story :p

In case you were wondering what happened to the 30 Day Challenge..... Lol I'll do it some other time instead. :x

Day 1 — Your Best Friend

Dear friend,
No matter how many ups and downs this thing called Life presents to us, I'm glad that you're there to face them with me, to make this slope downhill less steep, and the way uphill less exhausting.

We may have disagreements sometimes, but I like the fact that we always make up after that.

I love that you always put up with my craziness, sometimes even joining along with me.

I love you for all your imperfection.

Yours sincerely,
See Miang (:


P/S: Gosh. Do. Not. Puke. Try to control your laughter please. I spent a really long time doing this. I had so many things I wanted to say, but words just weren't enough for it. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed this 'letter'. It's not written for my 'best friend', but for ALL MY FRIENDS OUT THERE. Hehe, thanks a lot friend.

The 30-Day Letter Challenge

Yay, I'm back. I was surfing Tumblr (the coolest, most awesome website, EVER.) when I chanced upon this 30-Day Letter Challenge.

Hence, I'm going to do it! FOR A MONTH. No excuses.
(:

30 Day Letter Challenge:

Day 1 — Your Best Friend
Day 2 — Your Crush
Day 3 — Your parents
Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)
Day 5 — Your dreams
Day 6 — A stranger
Day 7 — Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush
Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend
Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet
Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to
Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to
Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain
Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you
Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from
Day 15 — The person you miss the most
Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country
Day 17 — Someone from your childhood
Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be
Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad
Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest
Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression
Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to
Day 23 — The last person you kissed
Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory
Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times
Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to
Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day
Day 28 — Someone that changed your life
Day 29 — The person that you want tell everything to, but too afraid to
Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror


Yay, something to do! (:
I SHOULD HAVE DONE THIS EARLIER. OH, DARN.

P/S: I got this from here. If you have a tumblr, do follow this person (: she's awesome! :D SIRIUSLY!! Hehe :P

help

Topic: Write about an occasion when an attempt to help led to unexpected consequences for the helper.

The scar that ran from her right cheek down to the end of her chin stood out, in contrast to her otherwise flawless, pale skin. Everytime she looked into the mirror, that particular memory would never fail to play and replay itself like a broken recorder. She remembered, with piercing clarity, what happened in the summer of two years ago, when life took a sudden downward spiral for her.

She had been at the supermarket the day it all happened. There was nobody there in the drinks section of the supermarket, save for a couple of boys who looked no more than eight. They looked to be playing hide-and-seek and it was no surprise to her that these two boys would use this section of the supermarket as their hiding place. She smiled wistfully at them while she reminisced about her past, those childhood memories that could never be replaced nor forgotten. She was immediately snapped out of her reverie when she heard a scream coming from her right.

Those shelves that seemed tall and imposing to these boys gave way when one of them accidentally knocked onto them. Rows and rows of drinks stored in different packages ranging from packets to cans to glasses-- they came tumbling down with such great force that for a few seconds, the supermarket was silent save for the crashing sounds of bottles. Cans rolled across the aisles, seeking freedom from being stuck on the shelves for too long. Just as a glass bottle started to fall out of the shelf, her instincts kicked in. Leaping forward, she shoved one of the boys aside to prevent him from getting hurt. It worked. The boy and his companion, now with the sock registered in their faces after reality kicked in, were now safe from that particular disastrous part of the section.

A group of workers stood by to assess the situation. They located the parents of the boys and cautioned the other customers to stay away from the aisle while the shards of broken glass were being cleared and the liquid from the drinks were wiped off the floor.

She emerged from the drinks section, her hand clutching her face, all the while writhing in agony. "It hurts..." she moaned, before falling to floor, lulled to a state of unconsciousness. It was chaotic all again. Some of the passers-by called for the ambulance while the rest knelt down, softly patting her shoulder, trying to get her back to her senses.

When she finally awoke, the first thing she saw were the lights, white and dimmed to prevent her eyes from hurting. Her palm flew to her bandaged face and her face crumpled. How bad was it? As her eyes finally adjusted to the surroundings, she took a look around. Rows and rows of beds were lined neatly along the walls, most of them unoccupied. A soft tapping sound was the only thing she could hear, apart from the soft coughing coming from the bed beside her. Footsteps, her mind registered. "You're finally awake. You've been unconscious for two days. How are you feeling?" the voice asked her. Too tired to even open her mouth, she nodded weakly. Two days of unconsciousness? This was really bad...

"Your face... I'm afraid there's nothing we can do about it. The scar's going to be there permanently unless you seek plastic surgery. But that, however, might not fully conceal the scar." The truth hit her like a ton of bricks, hard and cruel. It hurt, a lot.

Tears sprung to her eyes. At only 27 years of age and her face-- disfigured forever? She could hardly bring herself to believe it. Was it some sort of joke? All she had done was to save two boys from getting hurt-- and in doing that, it resulted in her being injured. Her once-beautiful face, now ruined. She could do nothing now, except to mourn about the unfairness of it all...



P/S: COMMENT! Thanks (: This is homework for school... I LOVE ENGLISH LESSONS!!! Too bad the rest of the class doesn't. Too bad for them! HAHA XD

remember that

During Chinese lesson today our teacher shared something really meaningful to us (or at least the handful of pupils who were good enough to be paying attention). She was really fed up with our attitude towards Chinese and thought something had to be done about it.

She asked us why was it that the 'O' Level (the recent one?) top scorer came from another country and why he/she managed to get such good grades despite having studied in Singapore for only a few years.

She said that nobody was born intelligent or stupid.
If one had to judge another by what they do and label themselves stupid when they feel intimidated, then we might as well give up studying altogether.

The reason why these people do well is because they know how to plan their time properly.
Everybody's given 24 hours a day, and we're all equally busy.
Besides, being busy is just an excuse to make us feel better about time lost.

In between periods we can catch up on our work and slowly, bit by bit, we'll be able to make up for the time lost from slacking.



P/S;
My short-term memory has caused some parts of it to be forgotten. SAD.
And I'm lazy to edit this post.
It's hard work trying to translate Chinese to English, you know? Especially when neither of my languages are good... Speaking of languages, READ BOOKS!!! The power of books! HEHE XD

-

You heartless,
Cruel soul.

Do you really not care?
You act like you do
But you actually don't.

Humans make good actors and actresses.
They mask their real personality and as a result lose track of who they are and what they're going to be.

I'm tired.
We're all tired.
It's hard work trying to hide your real self from others.




P/S: I have something, finally. It's not good, but at least I tried. I tried, and that's what matters. I try so hard to ignore what other people say, those insensitive, stuck-up idiots who think they're always better than me when they're actually not. You get that? Stop deceiving yourself, you're not better than me. We're just different people leading different lives with different talents and flaws. You gotta accept that and live with it.