Elijah's Life Experiences

"Lost for words" for a most unfortunate and unwarranted action ...              Lost for words.             It all started because of Mother’s favourite book, which was a gift from her best friend, being torn to shreds. Fuming with rage, Mother was as mad as a hornet. Marching towards my brother, Luke and me, Mother stared daggers at both of us. “Who did it?” Who had the nerves of steel to rip up my book? Perhaps it was you, James?” Mother’s murderous looks chiseled through me. I turned tongue-tied. “But … but how – “ “Don’t deny the truth!” I know it’s you for certain!” Mother thundered as she stared at me balefully. I had to endure what seemed like hell for a torturous hour before being let off. When Mother stormed away, I muttered under my breath, “Why am I always being reprimanded by Mother?” I was definitely an unlucky child. Why was Luke always the apple of ...

"An act of cowardice" tells a story of what caused a good friend to be lost ...           Justin was my best friend.          In my eyes, Justin had always been the perfect gentleman and to the extent of being effeminate. Exceptionally puny for his age, he bore delicate elf-like features, adorned with expressive doe-like eyes. He stuck out like a sore thumb in our class as he was the only one who was soft-spoken. Do not judge a book by its cover. Justin often spared a thought for others but unfortunately frequently to his disadvantage. While boarding a bus back home, he would often allow the rest of the commuters to board first. His selflessness deprived him of a much needed seat despite his long journey home. When asked, Justin would often shrug his shoulders and answered with a broad smile that making the day and environment better for everyone was in itself a rewarding endeavor. His gentle...

"It was all my fault" tells an unfortunate story when feelings got in the way of action ...              It was all my fault.             It all started from the rivalry my cousin, Fenton and I had. Fenton was the most filthy rich pupil in my class. He was unbelievably intelligent too. What made him a source of perfection was that he was extremely handsome. His raven dark hair and huge dark eyes certainly attracted lots of attention. In comparison, I was poor. Ever since Father’s demise, Mother needed to work hard so as to make ends meet. Furthermore, I was not even the least bit intelligent. The last straw was that I paled in comparison to Fenton where looks was concerned. I was corpulent and not to mention, had a pimply face. Why is God so unfair? My jealousy continued till that fateful day.            ...

Disappointment             It was too late to cry over spilt milk.             It was just like any football practice with my friends, Fred, Nathan, Dominic and Sean. It was our routine football practice with my best friends in school. All of us were in the school’s football team and we were competing with a neighbouring school in four weeks time. As such, our coach had insisted on consistent training.             That was when tragedy struck.             Our faces beaded with perspiration, I was just about to deliver a goal when Fred barrelled into me. An agonizing crack drifted noisily in all directions as my friends stared at my awkward figure sprawled on the football court. It was not long before help arrived. Fate was harsh that day as I had twis...

Here's my attempt at a "short description of a poor boy in the rain".             The trees shook like rag dolls as the strong winds blew unrelentingly. Occasional streaks of lightning would light up the sea of darkness which engulfed the skies. Every now and then, there would be a rumble of thunder sounding out. Raindrops fell incessantly like arrows. Just then, a boy appeared. His tattered flannel shirt was fluttering wildly under the wind’s cruel mercy. His raven dark hair was like a rat’s nest – shaggy locks so long that they almost touched his shoulders. The boy’s eyes were looking unusually wild. Incomprehensible mutterings could be heard under his breath as he trudged along the pavement. Menacing shadows loomed out of the distance as the boy disappeared suddenly into the abyss of darkness. If you like reading this, browse this catalog here for more works from my classmates and me ...  Till the next post, El...

Here's a "short description of my school".             The chatter. The jovial laughter.             I love my school for many reasons. It is a place of joy and fun. A second home to me. Whenever I am in my school uniform, I feel a sense of pride for my school.             Firstly, the teachers there are kind, especially my form teacher, Mr Chin. With his bleached curly hair and his skin as tightly drawn as the skin of an onion, he did not fit into the typical mould of a form teacher. However, what lies below his unusually quirky appearance is the heart of pure kindness. He always encourages us to do better the next time whenever we fared badly in our tests. While he does flare up at times when we get out of hand in class, he never reprimands us unreasonably. Mr Chin will forever remain in my mind as a kind and ...