compositions I

other than science, one of my better subjects since primary school would be english.
i've always been a nerd, and loved to read since young.
according to my ahma, every time Dr. Lee came back from work,
i would grab a book, sit on his lap and asked him to read to me.
later on i would practice reading to him instead.
i rmb that i ever took part in inter-class poetry competitions in pri 1 and 2 before. :B

out of all components in the exams, i enjoyed composition the best.
i loved challenging the given themes.
my writing style has always been more abstract, and has a lot of twists and turns.
quite thick-skinned to say, but I've managed to score really well each time. hehehe.

found some of those that I've kept, cause i really loved the stories.
shall post one here ! haolian abit but its the few things i can be proud of :p.

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Desire

When Iris saw it in the showcase, gleaming under the shimmering spotlights, she was immediately enraptured by its sleek appearance. Its aura of mystery, the charm of its darkness. It did not matter that its price was beyond what she could afford; in fact, she couldn’t even pay it in installments. All that separated her from her object of desire was that piece of glass. How she wanted to smash that hateful barrier, and reach out just to touch it, and even better if she could own it. Although she knew that it was a fantasy, she wanted it to be a reality. She wanted it. She desired it. And she needed it, badly.

Her father saw that gleam in her eyes. That hunger for it. The unquenchable thirst expressed all over her face. Admittedly, it was beautiful. It was exquisite. But he could never afford that piece of extremely expensive metal and silicon chip. He could foresee the extreme disappointment etched on her face. It pained him terribly to see her hurt and upset.

As fast as she saw it, as soon as she was torn away. Forcibly dragged away by her unsympathetic father. He never seemed to care about her feelings. The only reason he took care of her was probably due to her deceased mother’s last words. She died too young, too soon. There was never time to know her. The last time she saw her alive was many years ago. It was a blurry but permanent memory. Something that she would remember for the rest of her life.

Iris was crying. Her crystalline teardrop flowed from her expressive eyes. She resembled her mother completely. That smooth oval face, those dark almond eyes which spoke depths. Every time he looked at his daughter, he was reminded of his wife. He was reminded of how the family was, before her sudden and unforeseen passing. The phone call he received, which broke his heart.

It was a clear blue sky, with a bright light in the sky. A day which all seemed at peace and calm, where serenity existed. Yet things would unexpectedly spin out of control.

Iris was only a mere six year old child, innocent and pure. The incident left a permanent stain in her memory, a speck of crimson blood on pure white cloth. A loud bang and a scream. From the window of her school bus, she could see the impact of the crash. A shattered windscreen. A dented frame. What shocked her most was the slender arm dangling from inside the car. It wore the very bracelet of beads that was her Mother’s Day gift. The colorful beads were left hanging by a few threads. Most of it was spilled on the concrete road, soaking in a pool of glistening blood.

The world seemed to crumble and disintegrate before his very eyes. The flowers turned to dust, the sky was dull, everything was to nought. Life was pointless to him. So depressed was he, that he lost his aim. He did not know anything. He was oblivious to the fact that he was about to end his life with his daughter, by jumping off the roof. But a look at his daughter’s eyes, those seemingly deep pools of knowledge and fear, seemed to jolt him from the senseless dream. He was acutely aware of his dangerous situation, and realized his wife’s hope. All she wanted, with the last breath she took, was to see Iris accomplish her dreams and nurture her talents. He swore to do so.

She persistently blinked back those tears of sadness and disappointment. No, she would not be weak. She would not reveal her vulnerable and tortured soul to her clueless father. He made frail attempts to know her. He thought he knew her. No he didn’t, he never did. Her feelings, he never would know. Never would he understand. Iris was stubborn, a trait she shared with her equally bull-headed father.

Iris returned to the shop every day, just to fantasize her dream. A fantasy that would never be reality. A dream that would never be fulfilled. Yet she still clung on to her hope, the faint trace of light in her world of unspeakable darkness. Her desire and lust for it grew every day, growing stronger. Slowly and surely, she was consumed by the fiery conflagration of desire. She paid lesser attention in class, as all time was devoted to thinking of the item of her delight. She gave scant interest in homework, paying tribute silently and earnestly to the object.

Her father noticed the drastic change. She was in a daze, a hazy dream of her own. He did not have any inkling, any clue of how to show his concern. How he could express his thoughts, a way which he could get through her heart. What could he do, to make her understand his emotions of care?

She could take it no longer. No more could she withstand the attraction of the object. Armed with only a screwdriver and the burning passion of need, she approached the glass case once more.

He heard that siren ring as he stepped out. It pierced through the noisy crowd, like a beam of light in the darkness. Was it the last sound he would ever hear?

Iris cut through the throng of shoppers, weaving in and out of the traffic, carefully avoiding the security guards. She couldn’t believe she actually held it in her hand right now. There would be time to admire the smoothness of the cool titanium later; she had more important tasks at hand. Otherwise, she would have to savor the thrill in police lock-up. Taking a prolonged last look at the love of her life, she shifted her gaze to the suddenly glaring lights of the vehicle in front of her.

He threw his whole weight forward and pitched in front of his beloved daughter. The only thought, desire and hope at the moment, were for her safety. It would content him just to know that it was realized.

A loud bang and a scream. Her memories reopened, revisited and replayed. This time, her father had shared the same fate as her mother, a rivulet of blood trickling from his head. The object slid from her hand and landed with a clatter on the cold asphalt ground. It didn’t matter anymore.

Iris had no reservations about letting her tears flow this time. Nothing could hold it back. Guilt and solitude welled up in her, filling up with remorse. A fresh wave of tears surfaced repeatedly. Had a simple handphone just ruined a life? Her vision blurring, she collapsed on the floor, swallowed up by darkness.

A dull throbbing pain echoed throughout him. Cracking open an eyelid, he silently observed his surroundings. The clear smell of machine purified air assailed him, and it struck him that he was in a hospital. Like a cascading rapid, the memories of the accident flowed into his mind. How was Iris? Was she safe? He desperately wanted to know. But he could not move his legs. There was no feeling at all.

Iris ran into the hospital ward, flying into his open arms. Tears of joy and happiness flowed freely from their eyes, running down their faces. The doctors did not expect him to wake, as he had injured his head. Even so, Mr Ang had to undergo physiotherapy to regain the use of his legs. It didn’t matter as much to both of them, as they knew, whatever happens, they would always be there for each other. 

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wrote this when i was in sec 3, omg seems like eons ago.

actually, reading these old compos makes me really miss creative writing.

maybe i should try writing them again when i've free time. 

which is like really soon cause i have an upcoming 1 ½ months break again ! ♥