Friday, 29 January 2016

Jasper Yong 14 S103

One of my earliest memories was of my mother carrying me as swept her short dark locks to the side, singing quietly in her sweet voice while she pats my back, trying to help me to sleep. She was wearing baby blue pajamas as she cradled me in her hands, letting me sleep soundly.

The place I used to play was the playground downstairs my house, the screeching of cars heard in the distance, the sound of small children like me shouting with glee as we slid down the slides, the smell of exhaust filling the air. The bright colours of the playground enticed me to play more, making it harder to go home.
This was the place I used to play

The place I used to live was an HDB flat, the large dining room leading to the hallway that connects the 4 corners of the house together. The creepy storeroom, a place with flickering lights, a place my sisters and I dared not venture to, and our room, a colourful place that smelled of candy and where sounds of laughter could often be heard from, the storeroom was the opposite, however, smelling of rusty metal and dusty toys.
This was the place I used to live.

The carpark lay before him, the lights flickering, the old, slightly cracked cement walls dark, and quiet. The lack of cars slightly disturbing as the musky smell of dust rolled over him. He smirked, and took a step forward, clutching his books, his arms relaxed”it’s just a car park.”Gohan thought to himself.
       A slight “woosh…” of wind sent shivers down his spine as he thought he saw a long dark shadow on the cracked cement floor. When he turned around, his feet scratching against the pavement, he saw that there was nothing there except the heavy smell of dust assaulting his nostrils. He turned and started walking again, faster, his feet tapping against the stone floor as he clutched his phone tighter. He thought to himself optimistically,”it’s just my imagination.”
      He turned again and saw the shadow growing longer, the smell of sweat entering his nose as he felt a slight tingle of something, or someone touching his back. His eyes widened as the shadow moved slightly. He panicked as he hugged his books closely to his chest and he ran against the concrete floor, trembling as his feet pounded against the floor, out of the carpark, onto the sidewalk. He saw his tuition centre as he breathed a sigh of relief.

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