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Neighbour from hell (ver 1) | Essay for kids | Elijah Wee | Singapore

It's been a really long time since my last post. Well, I've been busy with the PSLE preparations. Glad it's all over! ;-) 

 Here's an essay I did up some time ago "Neighbour from hell (version 1)". Hope you like it!


            It broke my heart to see her cry.

            I was doing some last-minute revision for my Primary 5 Science examinations. Stifling a yawn, I rubbed my bleary hazelnut brown eyes as I tried to make an effort to absorb as much as possible. However, my new neighbour, Mrs Tan, who likened herself to “Singapore’s Got Talent” contestant, was singing so loudly that it was simply impossible to do any form of revision. With disapproval written all over my face, I was starting to lose my cool.

            The last straw came when the hi-fi stereo from Mrs Tan’s living room was turned on at full blast.

            Fists shaking in rage, I let out an ear-piercing scream of both anguish and helplessness. As if in response, Mrs Tan’s exuberant singing slowly died down too. Oh no, what had I just done? I pictured a vivid image of Mrs Tab raining torrents of abuse on me for hindering her creative performance. For the upteempth time, I had to tolerate Mrs Tan’s off-key singing. Never did I expect myself to scream.

            Two rhythmic knocks on the main door of my house jolted me out of my innermost thoughts.

            I braced myself for a scolding. Instead, what greeted me after I had opened the door were the puffy eyes of Mrs Tan, which appeared to have been crying for many hours. What was wrong? As if in reply, Mrs Tan forced out a smile and asked if she could come in. Nodding mu head, I led her into the living room.

            Wiping away a tear with the back of her right hand, Mrs Tan explained everything to me. It hit me like a sledgehammer. Apparently, Mrs Tan’s son and husband were deceased two years ago in a car accident, which was before she had moved in next door. Ever since their untimely demise, Mrs Tan had been trying to shake herself out of her grief by singing away her sorrows. “My poor son, you remind me so much of him. That troublemaker smile of his, oh … my precious son and husband!” Mrs Tan muttered wistfully, half-choking back her tears. Fighting back my own tears, it broke my heart to see her cry.

 Till the next essay,
Have a good rest, especially those who have just completed your PSLE - you all deserve it (as do I)
Elijah Wee

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