Stranger

By JL

My bag weighed heavily down on my shoulders as I trudged home after a tiring day at school. The sunny weather was a direct contrast to my gloomy mood. With my father out-stationed and my mother busy running her errands, I dread the thought of having to prepare my own meal and being home alone.

As I stepped out of the dank elevator, I saw two dubious characters standing in front of my new neighbour’s flat. The younger man with a tanned complexion and a well-toned body was fiddling with my neighbour’s lock. His accomplice, a pot-bellied burly man, was standing behind him with his eyes darting hither and thither as he looked around.

I have not met this new neighbour of mine who had just moved in last week. I understood from mum that the family ran a coffee shop which was at the foot of our block and was hardly home till past midnight.

The first thing that went through my mind was “burglary!” I wanted to dial triple nine with my mobile phone, but being in such close proximity to these “thugs”, I would not be able to use it without alerting them. Just as I was about to reach for my phone, “Ring!” my phone sounded at the most inappropriate time. My heartbeat sent adrenaline pumping through my veins. I quickly muffled it and made a quick dash down the flight of stairs to answer the call. Thanks to my lucky stars, I was not discovered by the “thugs”.

As if the caller was playing a trick on me, my phone stopped ringing when the soles of my shoes touched the concrete floor at the foot of my block. I uttered a curse and proceeded to call for the police. They advised me to stay put, but, nosey as ever, I decided to play sleuth and continue to watch these men. After what seemed like an eternity, the men in blue arrived, and swiftly caught the perpetrators.

The older man bellowed, “What are you doing? I am the owner of this flat!” but there were no documents on him to prove it. Thanking me, the police led the duo to the lift. At the lift landing, the man with a pot belly turned towards me and blurted out a string of obscenities before punctuating his sentence with, “You just wait and see!”

The thought of what might happen to me make my throat go dry.

“Hubby, what are you doing, being handcuffed by the police! Did you do something bad? You even made our son your partner in crime?” a voice broke my train of thoughts. At that very moment, I saw a plump bespectacled lady outside the lift. Bewildered by the strange turn of events, I rushed forward to investigate and was utterly embarrassed to find out that the two “burglars” were actually my new neighbours!! Apparently, their new key to the house was stuck in the key hole and they were attempting to get it out while waiting for the lock-smith.

Upon hearing the truth unfold, the policemen apologized, removed the handcuffs and released the two men. All of them had a hearty laugh, which was at my expense. Feeling mortified, I made a beeline for the sanctuary of my flat, resolving never to jump hastily to conclusions again.

Stealing

By DC
The smiling sun reigned supreme, painting the great canvas of the morning sky in warm hues of yellow. The dew on the leaves dropped onto the ground like a row of unsewn pearls.

“Ring….!” The bell for recess had just rung and almost immediately, children ran out of their classrooms like flocks of migrating birds.

I was about to tuck into my scrumptious bowl of piping hot noodles when my best friend, Tom, sat down in front of me.

“Did you know Peter brought his new mobile phone?” he asked.

“Yeah! What a show-off!” I said jealously as I wolfed down my noodles.

“Why don’t we teach him a lesson?” Tom suggested with a sly grin. Having the same thought in mind, I nodded in agreement.

After finishing my noodles, we headed towards our classroom on the top floor.

“Why didn’t the prefects stop us?” Tom said in astonishment as we climbed the long flights of stairs.

“Beats me, but they sure are dim-witted fools,” I remarked.

Looking in every direction and round every corner, we made our way stealthily towards the classroom, making sure that no one had discovered us. After creeping into the classroom, we began to carry out our plan. I started rummaging through Peter’s bag while Tom kept watch for anyone passing by.

After what seemed like an eternity, I was still unable to find Peter’s phone. Tension hung like a thick cloud in the air as beads of perspiration trickled down our foreheads.

“Where on earth could it be?” I said frantically.

“I can hear somebody’s footsteps. I think we should abort our plan,” Tom advised.

I managed to put the bag back into its original position just as a teacher came in. It was our English teacher, Mr Koh, whom I have always looked up to with awe and respect.

“Good morning, Mr Koh,” Tom and I greeted in unison. We tried our best to look calm and innocent, but inside we were shaking like leaves.

“What are you two doing?” he asked sternly.

“Um…I had for…forgotten something and came ba…back to take it,” I replied, trying as much as I could to stop stammering.

A shadow of doubt flickered across Mr Koh’s face and he began interrogating us with a series of questions. Soon, we were strongly overcome by an unbearable feeling of guilt. Knowing our fate was sealed like an ant in a web, we decided to confess. Upon hearing our confession, we were frogmarched to the Principal’s office. Torrents of tears flowed fast and free as I hung my head in shame.

We were let off with a stern warning and we vowed never to do such a thing ever again.

“It’s too late for regrets, but what you can do is to turn over a new leaf and mend your ways,” Mr Koh advised. These words of wisdom would remain in my heart forever.

Stranger at the door

By JN
It was a splendid Sunday afternoon. Our closely-knit family gathered in the cosy living room to play board games. A few minutes into the game, the shrill ringing of the door bell interrupted our concentration.

“Yes,” my father, who had responded to the resonating doorbell, muttered to the other party.

The rest of us returned our attention to the game, thinking that it was the postman with a registered mail. As his conversation with the other party dragged on, he took on a severe semblance. His grave look indicated that something terribly wrong had occurred. At this point, the rest of the family rallied around him to await the disturbing news: our grandmother had met with an accident on her way to the market! Being unable to obtain our telephone number, a staff member of the hospital had come to our home to inform us about it.

Instantaneously, everyone clambered into the family sedan and my father whisked furiously towards the Singapore General Hospital. In the car, everyone was silent, stunned by the tragic news. Those twenty minutes of travel time were agonizingly long. It felt like hours before we finally swung into the driveway of the hospital.

Once there, my parent bolted out of the car at breakneck speed, with us sprinting behind. We knew we had no time to lose. Their mother, our grandmother, was dying! We smashed through visitors, nurses, patients, doors, and chairs to reach her hospital room. Tears of desperation and despair blinded us as we swept like a hurricane towards her bed.

“Grandma !Grandma!” I shouted in desperation, “Do not leave us!” I was like in a drama scene when actors would say this standard phrase to their loved ones when they were dying but this was no joke. My grandmother’s face was pale white and she did not even have the energy to smile. The nurse told us what had happened and said that it was not the driver’s fault. It was my grandmother who had crossed the road carelessly.

All we could do was to say some comforting words to my grandmother. We were all worried that grandmother’s condition would worsen. The doctor said that grandma had to stay in the hospital for at least a week to fully recovered. Although my grandmother finally recovered, this incident taught us that the grave consequences of crossing the road carelessly. Through this incident, we also learnt to cherish my grandmother more.