GOOD LUCK SPM CANDIDATE....

HAPPY READING......

Write an essay ending with “… with tears in her eyes, she hugged me tightly.”

It was the wettest December I had ever experienced. The torrential rains had ruined my holiday plans as floods continued to wreak havoc in several states. I had pleaded with dad to allow me to go to the east coast with my friends but he had been unyielding. The thought of having to stay indoors for the next two weeks was not only depressing but also unbearable. Television did not excite me anymore. I was fed up of watching the same old movies on cable television. Even the other channels had nothing exciting to offer. Finally, I decided to go into the attic to retrieve some books which I had not read for a long time.

The attic was surprisingly clean – a sign that mum had finally completed the chore that she had kept putting off. I looked around and noticed a teak chest that I had never seen before. Curiosity got the better of me and I walked towards it. I lifted the lid slowly and was pleasantly surprised to see a variety of things in it – all of them reminders of my childhood. I looked nostalgically at the clothes I had worn as a child and the toys I had played with. ‘Bobo’ the teddy bear, which I had slept with until I was ten, had been dry-cleaned and kept in a box which also contained the first Mother’s Day card I had made myself. I was not prepared for what I saw next. Lying at the bottom of the cardboard box was an old black and white photograph of a young woman. I stared at it incredulously. It was as if I was looking at a female version of myself. All sorts of questions and dreadful thoughts flooded my mind. I held the photograph tightly in my hand and dashed out of the attic, only to bump into my mother.

“Mum….who is this?” I asked in a quivering voice.

From the look on her face, I knew it was a question she did not want to answer. Quietly, she held my hand and led me towards the study where dad had been working all morning. She knocked on the door once before opening it. Dad looked up, and his expression of annoyance disappeared when he saw the photograph in my hand.

What I heard that day is something I will never forget for the rest of my life. The woman in the photograph was my mother, my biological mother — Lily Lee.

“Son, Lily loved you very much; just as much as Janet here loves you.”

Dad’s use of the past tense made me uncomfortable. It took a great deal of effort on his part to narrate the painful past.

My biological mother was six months pregnant when the incident happened. She had been walking towards her office when a motorcyclist came from behind and grabbed her handbag before speeding off. As a result of the sudden assault, she had lost her balance and fallen on the kerb. The head injuries she had sustained had a devastating effect on her health. The only option was to perform surgery, but due to her condition, this option was risky. The doctors had wanted to terminate her pregnancy to save her life but she had refused. A month later she fell into a coma. Although the doctors had given up hope, Lily continued to live, though in a comatose state. It was as if she was not giving up on life till her baby was born. When the doctors deemed it safe, they performed an emergency C-section. Lily breathed her last the moment I was born into this world.

Dad sobbed softly as he finished relating the heart-wrenching story. All sorts of emotions consumed me. I was sad, confused and angry. Was I adopted? What about my father? Who was he? Had he abandoned me? After a while, I braved myself and stated what I thought was obvious.

“So, that means you are not my real parents. I am adopted!”

“No, son. You are not adopted. I am your father. Lily was my first wife. She made me promise her that I would marry her younger sister, Janet, so that you would not grow up motherless.”

The sense of relief that I felt at that moment was indescribable. I looked at mum and I saw the pain and anguish in her eyes, as though she was anticipating rejection. Quickly, she looked down.
Slowly, I got up from my chair and walked towards her. I went down on my knees and held her hands in mine. Her eyes remained downcast, fearful of rejection.

“Mum, I know I am only seventeen but I am more mature than you think. You might not have given birth to me but you are and will always be my mother.” I comforted her as much as I comforted myself.

She looked up slowly, her eyes searching my face for sincerity. Then with tears in her eyes, she hugged me tightly.

CONTINUOUS: NARRATIVE WRITING – With a starting phrase

Write a story starting with: “The widow had to work hard to bring up her little son alone...”

The widow had to work hard to bring up her little son alone. This was after her husband’s early death. She and her son lived in a wooden house. It was a small house with only one bedroom and a kitchen.
Mariam wanted Sam to study hard to get good result. So she would not let Sam help her do any household chores or wash his own clothes. The years flew by. Sam sat for his SPM examination and pass with flying colours.
His mother was very happy. She went round telling her friends, “My Sam will be leaving for the city to study in a college. He will become a Manager one day. I’ll move to live with him in the city. Then, my struggle is worth it.”
So Mariam continued to work hard to send money to Sam who was studying a business degree. For Mariam, it was a tough life. Meanwhile, Sam kept on phoning home to ask for more money. Mariam even had to borrow from her neighbours and friends to send her son the money.
Three years Sam stopped calling home. He did not even let his mother where he was. When she phoned the faculty, they told her that he had graduated and left for job. However, they could not her more. Mariam was baffled. Where was Sam? She was so sure he would come back and fetch her for city. So, she started to pack some of her bags and boxes.
Three months later, there was still no news or call from Sam. One day, Mariam’s niece, Kate, came to talk to her about Sam. She told her aunt, “Auntie, a friend of mine met Sam in a bank. He’s the branch manager. This is his address.”
Early in the morning, Mariam took the first bus to the city. At the bus station, she took a taxi and showed the taxi driver the bank address. On the way there, she told the driver about Sam and what a filial son he was.
The driver stopped his taxi in front of a tall building. She got out of the taxi and smiled at him happily. This was the moment she was going to meet Sam. She imagined him showing surprise and delight at meeting his mother. Inside the building, a security guard asked her who she was looking for. She told the guard Sam’s name.
The bank staff saw an old lady holding a worn-out handbag. They were wondering, “Who is this woman? Why is she asking for our manager?”
Meanwhile, Sam pretended he did not know his mother. Feeling disgusted and ashamed, he asked the security guard to ask her to leave. Mariam was shocked to hear that! She looked Sam in a disappointed feeling ever, and ran out of the bank.
Back in her house, Mariam cried the whole night. She cried and cried till she had no more tears. The next morning, she was sitting by the window with Sam’s photo on her lap. She saw him walking towards their house. Soon she was shouting and crying, “My Sam is back! My Sam is back!”
Sam ran towards her and hugged Mariam as he never let go. He was so sorry and regretted the way he behaved. His colleagues were the one who made him realized his big mistakes neglected his mother. 
The neighbours heard her. They too shouted and cheered, feeling happy for her.

574 words.

                                                                     A FRIEND

“What happened?” I could hear myself asking this question over and over again. As I slowly regained consciousness, I found myself in hospital. The past flashed through my mind. I realized with horror what must have happened.
Ismail and I are the best of friends who have lived in the same neighbourhood for umpteen years. In school, we have always joined the same sport – cross-country. The two of us never failed to jog every morning in the park. We especially liked jogging along the path by the big river.
One fine morning, we went jogging by the river as usual. We were jogging slowly as we talked about the coming inter-school cross-country competition. I said, “Peter is bound to be one of the two to be chosen to represent our school. I wonder which one of us will be the other lucky person”.
Ismail suddenly stopped jogging and looked uncomfortable. His voice faltered as he spoke, “Karim, I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. Mr. Lim has already told me that Peter and I were chosen.”
My face dropped. All my wild dreams of being the inter-school cross-country champion were shattered. If only I had practised more often, if only … if only Ismail were not such a good runner.
I was so overwhelmed with disappointment that when Ismail came over to comfort me, I pushed him away roughly. He lost his balance and grabbed at me for support. We screamed as we both fell into the river. The next thing I remember was being in hospital. Friends and relatives who came visit me later told me that they knew. Ismail had saved, risking his own life as he was not strong swimmer. His knees were injured while trying to save me.
I felt exceedingly ashamed of myself. I had put Ismail’s life in danger through my unreasonable, childish behavior. Yet, he had saved me. As a result of his knee injury, Ismail would not be able to represent the cross-country race. This made me feel worse than ever. I have, since that incident, resolved to make it all up to him in whatever way I can. I will try my best to be true friend to him as he has been to me.

BEGIN YOUR ESSAY WITH ........"I felt faint. I could not believe what I was hearing. I wanted to die. The news was unbelievable."

"I felt faint. I could not believe what I was hearing. I wanted to die. The news was unbelievable."

The alarming school bell rang meaning the end of another tedious and exhausting day of school. I made my way home taking all the possible shortcuts. As I was a few yards away, I heard a crowd’s chattering and a familiar voice like my dad’s. I started walking faster.

I squeezed my way through the crowd. I noticed a body lying on the floor covered with a white, blood stained sheet. I started shouting at my dad not noticing his handcuffed hands.

“What’s happening?” I screamed
“Nothing it is just a misunderstanding dear” He answered hesitatingly
“What Is?”

I was then taken aside by two police men. They told me everything.

 “Your mum is…… dead” said the tall one.

The word “dead” echoed in my head. I could not believe what I was hearing. My poor beloved mum’s soul was under the sheet. My dad murdered her. I dared not to lift the sheet. But then I did and gave her a soft kiss on her cheek.

She was taken to hospital by an ambulance, and as for my dad, he was taken to the police station for further investigations. How could he? I will never forgive him.

I was left all on my own. No one to look after me. I was taken in to social care until my aunt comes.

“We have informed your aunt Betty of what has happened.” Said the social worker.

“She had a shock and so she needs to recover so she will come to get you after a few days.”


 It was obvious that I will never be able to live with my dad. He is a murderer. I will never forget and forgive what he had done to her, however I never thought that the day will come and he will murder her.

After a few days the social worker told me to get ready. She said my relative Tea Sea Ting will be coming to get me to live with her. Then I remembered. Aunt Tea Sea Ting! She was the woman that I hated in the whole universe. It was absolutely impossible for me to live with her. She is a cruel cold hearted woman. She used to think that I was very much spoilt that’s why I never got any or birthday present from her. She also said once that I had no manners and was an absolute disgrace to the family. Living with an aunt like that is complicated.

She lives in northern Johore and I live in the east. I was always happy to think that she was far way and that I will never see her again.

The car parked right outside her bungalow. My hands started shaking with fear. As I came out of the car she gave me a “you will regret it” face. I entered the house and then she showed me my room. She was gentle with me at that moment since the social worker was there. However when the social worker left, she started picking on me. It was like I was living in hell. She would say that it was my fault that my dad killed my mum and that when I grow I will be like him. A murderer.

“It is in your blood” she said one day.

My life started to be complicated. I started to wet the bed from fear and nightmares of my mum. That led to more complications since she would get the chance to pick on me. I had to leave my school from east Johore and go to a dump near hers. School and home lives were hell.

The thought of me never seeing my mum ever again was heartbreaking, but the thought of living with Aunt Tea Sea Ting all my life was like rain without clouds same as me without my mum.

My Life Is Always Going To Stay Complicated.

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