Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Sarah- Hammy


                                                                                          Hammy
        It was an average day after school as I struggled with my heavy school bag and slumped into the back seat of my parent’s car. The moment I got into the car a strong gust of cold air was blasted into my face. I felt strangely lighted headed as I closed my eyes to relieve my brain and muscles of a hard day’s work.
       When I opened my eyes, I realized that both my parents were staring at me. “How were your test results?” my mother questioned me. Realisation dawned on me, when I realised that my mother had asked me the question, which I had been dreading for over a week. “Oh! Not too bad. I… I just failed three common tests.” I replied back nervously, stuttering over my words. To my utmost surprise, my mother did not reprimand me but just nodded her head and continued smiling. I was extremely relieved as I was expecting her to start screaming at me and comparing me to my perfect sister, as usual.  “I have bad news for you. Guess what it is.” my mother suddenly said in her fake cheery tone. The first thing that came to my mind was that my favourite two-year old hamster, Hammy, was dead. Refusing to accept the rather obvious plain truth, I feigned innocence and asked my mother, “What’s the bad news?” After much persuasion, my mother finally told me to call my sister whom was at home. “ Hammy’s dead.” My sister replied in a monotone voice after I demanded to know the answer. I hung up the phone without realising. I was paralyzed for a few seconds.
      “ Hammy’s dead! No, he’s not! He can’t be! I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him.” I whispered to myself, not wanting to believe the plain truth. Little did I realize that tears were streaming down my face. I hurriedly rubbed the tears on my face with the back of my hand, as I did not want my parents to see me crying. Memories of the time my hamster was alive flashed through my mind. How Hammy used to lick my fingers if there were crumbs with his tiny red tongue, fall asleep when I massaged his head, drag his cotton around his cage and rub his face with his tiny little pink hands when I carried him. Hammy was special to me, he was different from most hamsters in the peculiar way he behaved and to me he was part of my family. Now to whom am I going to share my joy and sorrows to?  I tried to recall the last time I saw Hammy. I was carrying him the day before and he urinated on my hand. Infuriated, I roughly dumped him back into his cage. I would give almost anything to get Hammy back.
    “We’re home!” a voice, which belonged to my father, boomed in my ear awaking me from my daze. I forced a smile and got out of the car. The moment I got home, I put on plastics gloves and gently lifted deceased Hammy. He looked peaceful as if he had fallen into a deep sleep even though he felt ice cold. “I’m sorry you had to go. You led a long and peaceful life, bye bye. I love you Hammy.” I whispered into his ears, my voice barely audible.
     The day Hammy passed away is the saddest day of my life. He died on 25 March 2010. I will never forget Hammy.  

yet another sad story,8:58 PM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Vanessa's saddest experience. (That I can remember)

Genre: Personal Recount


Title: Sadness



“One, two... three” the voice is fading from my head. My arms were becoming numb as I struggled to do the tenth pull up. I did eleven pull ups in the end. I had gotten a C grade, I was elated. “Gain momentum girl,” someone muttered. I took a swift jump and I jumped 180cm with ease for standing broad jump, that was an A. This is good I thought, at this rate I would be able to get a gold for NAPFA. I felt the stretch in my calves and the urge to bend my knees. I fought the burning sensation and stretched as far as I possibly could. My second try could not push it further. My result was 39cm, a B. “All the way all the way!” Mr Lee shouted. Mr Lee said “10.9, A”. I thought to myself. My last challenge, sit-ups. I tried to push that thought to the back of my mind that I could not reach the C mark.

“...Fourteen, fifteen” Shirley exclaimed. Sixteen... My heart raced. I tried once. Stretching to touch my knees. Reaching 3cm towards my knees, I ran out of strength. I tried once more, putting in more strength. My face was like a cherry tomatoe. Panting, I pulled myself up once more. Before I could reach my knee, I heard a monotone voice “Time's up”. My determination to get a gold award for NAPFA was like a block of ice on hot blistering dessert sands.

As I walked towards the chart which told us the requirements to get a certain grade, my jaw dropped to my feet. I fought back the tears as to not worry my friends. Disappointment engulfed me. I could not believe that I had gold award last year and I could not get it this year. I reminisced that during my primary school NAPFA test, my friends were encouraging me a lot. I was touched to tears by that. When I almost tried to give up, they screamed really loudly in my ears. Telling me to persevere. That I could do it. The thought that I did not receive any encouragement from the class in Cedar really made me sad. I realise the importance of encouraging the heart. One of the five practices of Cedar.

My CCA training in primary school was so much relaxed. Now it is more vigorous and tough. I thought that doing sit-ups would be no sweat. We trained our core muscles every training. It was arduous. We had to hold it for a whole minute.

Even Rasveen did five more sit-ups than me. That unbelieveable fact made me glum and gloomy. “A hero is an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.” an inspiring quote by Christopher Reeve. I will definitely persevere to train my core muscles and get an A next time. I know I definitely can...

yet another sad story,6:37 AM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Those memories: Always cherished, never forgotten

It was the last day of primary school for us, the Primary sixes. The weather, much like our feelings, was dark and gloomy, occasionally letting out a moaning, sad howl of wind every now and then. Back in the school hall, it was the very last period of the year, and all the primary sixes were gathered there for free period before the final goodbye.

The hall was as noisy as a fish market, and the whole time, sad voices would ring throughout the hall, the volume amplified by the echo of the large hall as the voices bounced against the hollow walls. I, was standing with my classmates, was trying very hard to be brave, and to enjoy my last period with my friends to the fullest. Unfortunately, time shot by like an arrow and soon, the dismissal bell rang. Tension was palpable in the hall as the final chime of the bell rang through the hall. “Dingggg…..!”

Everyone in the hall remained silent, probably like me, wishing that this was all a dream, and that our Primary school journey was not over yet. However, reality hit me like a bucket of cold water, and uncontrollably, silent, sad tears began to roll down the sides of my face. My best friend quickly pulled me in for a close hug, kindly offering me a shoulder to cry on. Perhaps her action touched me so much that I began to cry even harder, and this caused my best friend to start crying too. Soon enough, like a chain effect, the whole cohort was crying and hugging one another, sniffling and blubbering out their goodbyes. The rain outside poured down even harder, and our sad cries grew even louder. Although I knew we would surely keep in touch with one another, I knew it would never be the same again, not like it was now anyway. I would not be sitting beside the same person again, no matter how annoying she may be, nor be in the same class as my friends.



Just when I was saying my goodbyes to my teachers, my mother called, saying that she wanted me home. Reluctant to leave, I slowly packed my things up, trying as hard as I could to remember my surroundings and all the wonderful memories I had in there, all the way from a tiny age of seven till twelve. Leaving the school gates, I turned back just one last time, before I stepped out of the school. Sad as I may have been, I knew one thing deep down: CHIJ Katong Primary may no longer be my school the following year, but I knew it would always remain in my heart. Forever.

Lorraine Tan

yet another sad story,5:42 AM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Daddy, what happened?

     I was Primary Two. My mother had gone to Malaysia for a business trip. I was going to school like any other day. My father had sent me there that day; it was kind of special since it was my childcare that did that. I was touched as my father was usually very busy and didn’t have time to send me to school, as my school was during the afternoon. On the way to school in his car, I chatted with my father about school life and other things. I really, and truly, enjoyed the short car ride to school. Then, my father told me that that night, and he would be home to cook dinner. I was elated as my father hardly came home for dinner for he had to work long hours as a manager and he also hardly cooked for us. When I reached school, my father said goodbye to me and waved to me with a huge smile on his face. It brightened my day. I was a lot more cheery that day.

     After school, my father was supposed to pick me up from school and my brother from the childcare. Surprisingly, my father’s friend picked us up instead. We were informed that my father had a ‘fall’. Being street smart, my brother knew that my father would have come even if he fell, so he knew that my father was injured. But he didn’t say anything to the friend that picked us up, he only told me. We stayed at my grandmother’s house until my mother came back and fetched us home. My mother then told us what actually had happened, my father got into a car accident. I was devastated and worried so I immediately started crying. “Please Mummy! Let me visit Daddy. Please!” I whined at my mother. My brother, surprisingly, was quiet and didn’t say anything. I knew that he too, was sad.

     A few days later, which I clearly remember was my brother’s birthday; my mother took us to see my father. He was hospitalised in the ICU. I didn’t know what it meant but my mother said it was for patients in a critical condition. All my relatives were outside the ward. I was worried for my father, I urged my mother to let me see him. When I reached the ICU, I saw my father lying on the bed looking very weak. My brother was too afraid to look at him. They didn’t allow children to go into the ICU; all we could do was watch from outside. I was absolutely helpless without my father with me for eight months. I did not want anything to happen to him. That was my saddest experience and I’m glad my father’s okay now.

yet another sad story,10:43 PM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Denise's favourite primary school memory.

My favourite primary school memory is during the period after PSLE,also known as Primary School Leaving Examination.My school had organised lots of interesting games and activities that was prepared for the primary sixes.We were allowed to rent DVDs to watch and could even play board games or card games like 'Stress'.We were allowed to do anything and could even rent basketballs for the whole day.We did not even need to be in the class.Our teachers were very lenient with us too,in terms of our dressings,attires,and behaviours.
As my school has a rock climbing wall,the primary sixes were allowed to climb it with the help of some specialised instructers.I did not dare to climb it at first as i was afraid of heights.The instructer assured me that i would not fall as there were strings.I enjoyed myself a lot during that period.This is my favourite primary school memory.

yet another sad story,9:33 PM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Lorraine's Most Memorable Memory of Primary School

My favourite primary school memory was in Primary 6, when i got a chance to be an emcee in my school's opening ceremony. Although I was very nervous about it, I was also very excited. There was a small part where I accidentally said the wrong line and i quickly covered up. Thankfully, nobody noticed!  After the performance, we were rewarded with ice cream and delicious food for our hard work. It was indeed memorable and fun!

yet another sad story,9:27 PM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Sarah's Best Primary School Memory

  My most memorable memory in primary school school would most probably be after PSLE when my school brought the whole level to Sentosa for an" amazing race "competition. I was extremely excited on the bus on my way there and it was not only me. For once, the strict teachers did not tell my class off for for making so much noise in the bus. When we reached Sentosa my class got into groups of six and the whole level too. We set off running from place to place taking the LRT facing obstacles and ending up in wrong places. The weather was pretty awesome, not too hot not too cold. I was exhausted from all the running. Every student got a free ticket for the luge ride and the sky ride. In the end, my group came in as the last in our class because we bought ice cream and could not bring on the LRT, so we had to waste time and money gobbling it up on the spot. I will never ever forget that day ever.

yet another sad story,9:25 PM

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

The sad lives of,
Sarah
Tiffany
Lorraine
Rachel
Denise
Vanessa

Cries, yes we're sadistic.
Laughter, why are you so happy ?

Watch only if you want to cry
The tale of Mari and the three dogs.



Talk to Us, please.

All Alone Again.
Mr Neil
Shirley,ShiJ,HuiM,HuiY,ChuW
Stacey,Monisha,Shrida,Nediva
Jun,Max,Carlin,Bella,Charlotte,JQ
QingL,Joyce,Audrey,ChoongY,XueL
JY,Belinda,Angela,Cristalle,SY,Clarissa
Elmaine,Nurul,Lydia,Sish,Rasveen,Yuva

Let the Sad Songs Play .


Unwanted memories .
March 2010 April 2010

Our Givers.
Ev0nE's Emptyness
Ev0nE's Fairyland
Ev0nE's Tutorials
Blogskins
Blogger