FRIENDSHIP

I had a best friend. Her name was Asma. We had been friends since we were in primary
school. Our friendship lasted for a long time because we understood and trusted each
other. We were more like sisters than friends.
Asma was a beautiful girl. She had a lot of admirers at school. Even though she was
beautiful, she had never boasted about her beauty. Her flawless face was heart shaped.
She had an attractive pair of big hazel eyes with heavy lashes. When she smiled her
eyes smiled too. Asma was tall and slim, just like a model. She always looked nice in
whatever clothes that she wore. Her favorite outfit was T-shirt and jeans because she felt
comfortable wearing them. Asma's skin was fair. When she stood under the sun, her skin
would turn reddish.

Having a pleasant personality, Asma was well-liked by people around her. She was
friendly to everybody. She always looked beyond race and religions when it came to
friendship, because she believed that it was the individual that one should be concerned
with. Besides, she was a responsible person. Teachers loved her very much for they
could rely on her to do tasks and duties. As the Head Prefect at school, she was well
known as a good leader and a problem solver. Apart from that, Asma was kindhearted.
Whenever she met people who needed help, she would definitely lend her hand. I had
never seen Asma sad. Even though she had problems, she would never show it to
others.
However, something bad happened last year. After SPM, Asma and I went for the
National Service program at a camp in Mersing, Johor. We were happy to be located at
the same camp. The program was quite tough as it was meant to train us not only
physically but also mentally. Everyday we had to do a lot of activities such as marching,
running, climbing and so on. Life there was more or less like in an army camp. However,
we went through all the difficulties happily because we had each other.
One day, while we were marching under the sun Asma suddenly fainted. I was in panic
and shouted for help. The trainer came to see what had happened. Later, Asma was
taken to the hospital in an ambulance. I went along with her. The journey took about half
an hour since our camp was located a bit far from town. At the hospital, Asma was
admitted into the Intensive Care Unit. She remained unconscious. Asma's parents were
informed. Since Asma was their only child, they were so worried. When they arrived at
the hospital about three hours later, I told them everything that had happened.

Asma was diagnosed of leukemia. She was at the critical stage. I was so shocked to
hear the news because Asma had never shown any sign of illness before. Maybe the
tough routines at the camp had worsen her condition. Asma's parents were devastated
by the news. Her mother could not stop crying. There was nothing that we could do
except praying for her recovery. Asma was under a coma for a week. Finally, on Friday
morning at about 8.30 a.m. Asma left us forever. I had lost my one and only best friend
but our friendship would always remain in my heart till the end of my life.
MyWords:
This essay was written based on the sample SPM question; a single word question
"Friendship". For this essay, I combined description (describing a person, etc) with
narration (story telling). In second paragraph I described a person's physical
appearance, while in third paragraph I described her characteristics. From paragraph
four onwards, I started writing the story which ends with the death of the person that I
have described earlier.

A CRUSH
I was only seventeen and I was head over heel in love. Never in my life had I expected
that I would have a crush. My goodnessit was so wonderful. It happened this morning
and since then I became restless. I just could not stop thinking of her. What a pleasant
torture!
The first lesson this morning was Chemistry. As usual, we waited for our teacher, Miss
Lee, at the lab but she did not show up. After ten minutes my classmates and I went
back to our classroom and started doing our own things. Some gathered at a corner and
gossiped while some others preferred to read books. I was telling a joke to my buddies,
Ayap and Jeff when a beautiful young lady stepped into the classroom. She was there to
replace Miss Lee. Stunned, I just could not take my eyes away from her.
The beautiful young lady later introduced herself to us. Her name was Cik Hayati and
she was going to do her Praktikum at this school for about three months. Since today
was her first day, no wonder she looked a bit nervous. Listening to her talking stirred an
emotion deep inside me. Her voice was very soft, and when she spoke it became music
to my ears. I kept staring at her. Her symmetrical face was oval in shape. She wore a
pair of blue contact lenses which looked surprisingly perfect on her despite the fact that
she was not white. Her heavy lashes were made thicker by layers of mascara. How did I
come to notice all these? Wellthere were things about ladies that I was concerned
with. For me, a true lady had to be well groomed. On top of everything, her pink lipstick
had softened her complexion and made her looked really sweet. Once in a while, she
would smile and one could clearly see the dimple on her left cheek.
The attraction was very strong. I kept observing Cik Hayati. She had a slim figure and
was not very tall; I guess she was about five feet high. She was wearing beige with
purple floral motifs kebaya. The sleeves were heavily embroidered. A large dangling

brooch decorated the front of the kebaya. She was wearing a purple scarf on her head
and a matching colored pair of stilettos which were three inches high. She carried a chic
Guess monogram handbag which was light brown in colour. The way she carried herself
around
was
perfectly
feminine
and
I
loved
that
very
much.
Even after she left the class, I still could not stop thinking of Cik Hayati. I started building
castle in the air, that one day Cik Hayati would become my wife. Of course she was
older than me, but nowadays people did not really mind about the age gap. Just take a
look at Azizah Ariffin and her young husband, Khafairil; they were happy together. Ayap
and Jeff noticed my condition and started making fun of me. "O my Godsomeone is
having a crush!" I had no intention to defend myself for what they said was true. I was in
love. Cik Hayati fitted all the criteria that I looked for in a wife; she was feminine,
beautiful, well groomed, educated and had a good career. She would make a perfect
future
wife
for
me.
MyWords:
This essay was written based on actual SPM 2008 question; My perfect future husband
or wife. Instead of writing a usual boring description of a person, I wrote from a school
boy's point of view. It is a casual recount of the boy's experience, having a crush on a
beautiful young lady teacher. It is actually something common in a school boy's life to fall
in love with his teacher, but of course it doesn't go any further. That's why we call it a
crush.
HONEYMOON
Being a teenager, I always liked to explore new things. Friends were very
important to me. We spent time together doing many interesting things such as watching
movies, hanging out at Mamak stalls, but our favourite was playing video games. We
spent

hours

at

cyber

caf

after

school,

and

sometimes

even

at

night.

My parents nagged at me for spending too much time on my leisure activities instead of
focusing on studies. They always reminded me about the SPM which was just around
the corner. They were worried that I might not be able to perform well in this important
exam; hence my future might be affected. However, their words seemed to get in one
ear and out the other. I was indifferent to their advice.
I was overconfident. Of course, I scored straight 'A's in my PMR. Receiving
endless praises from friends and relatives, I started to feel too proud of myself. Form 4
was a honeymoon period for me and a few of my friends. We were not focusing on
studies at school and didn't do our revision at home. Most of our time was spent on
enjoying ourselves doing our favourite leisure activities. It was all because we thought
that we were very smart.
Teachers were complaining about my performance at school. I always failed to complete
my homework, and my test results were also not satisfying. Although I passed the tests,
it was not what expected from me. Being a perfect scorer, I was expected to pass with
flying colours. The excuse that I always gave to my parents and my teachers was that I
had ample time ahead of me. I wanted to enjoy my teenage life first for there were so
many interesting things to be done besides studying. I kept saying that I was smart and I

knew that when the time comes for me to start preparing for SPM, I would just study
smart and not study hard.
However, things turned out to be different from my expectation. I did burn the midnight
oil a couple of weeks before the trial exam. I used the same technique that I used when
preparing for my PMR which was memorizing all the facts and formulas. I thought I did
well in the trial exam. On the contrary, the result was a total disappointment. I was at my
wit's end. It worked for my PMR, so why it didn't this time.
I argued with my teachers regarding the marks given to me since I thought I deserved
better. Keeping their heads, my teachers tried their best to explain to me that SPM is
totally different from PMR. Since I was not focusing on the tips and techniques of
answering which the teachers had been trying to teach me in class, my answers didn't
meet the requirements of the exam questions.
I was in panic. There was not much time left. My parents gave me their piece of mind
everyday. I was under a great stress. I knew that I have to do well in my SPM because
my future depends on it. I continued burning the midnight oil, hoping that I could cover
everything in time. I should have started earlier. In fact, I should have focused on my
studies since I was in form 4. How I wish I had listened to my parents.
My Words:
This essay was written based on a sample SPM question; Write a story that ends with
"How I wish I had listened to my parents." Most form 4 students would usually undergo
the same experience. They think that it is a honeymoon year for them; a break after
struggling hard for their PMR.

HOME ALONE
Kim was nervous when the door opened that she could hardly breathe. She was
hiding under her bed, hoping not to be found. The fancy frills of her bed-clothing proven
to be useful in such time. Unless somebody flip them up and peep under the bed, it was
a perfect hideout.
Kim was studying in her room when she heard the noise coming from the kitchen. She
was alone. Her parents went to Seremban earlier in the evening, and won't be coming
home until the next day. They had urgent business meeting there. The first thing that
came across her mind was burglars. She walked to the door. Too scared to open it, she
just stood there and listened. She heard the noise again, and it sounded like somebody
was cutting the iron grill of the kitchen window. This time she was sure that burglars
were breaking into her house. Spontaneously, Kim pushed the lock on the door knob
and switched off the lights. When her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, she
paced to her bed. It was the only hideout that she had in mind at that moment.

Kim's bedroom was the nearest to the kitchen and the first to be searched by the two
burglars. They were wearing black clothes with the ski masks covering their face. One of
them had used a master key to unlock the door. After switching on the lights, they started
searching for money and valuables. Under the bed, Kim was holding her breath. Her

hands were covering her mouth. She wanted to cry but she could not afford to make any
noise. It was her life at stake. Then, she heard footsteps coming nearer and later
stopped just beside her bed.
"I found a hand phone here," a male voice said. It was Kim's hand phone. Earlier, she
was charging the phone and had placed it on the side table.
"There's nothing else in here. Let's search the other rooms." It was the other man's
voice.
Kim was sure that the burglars were nowhere nearby. Slowly she came out from under
the bed and tiptoed to the door. She peeped outside to see where the burglars were.
She could hear them talking upstairs. They were searching her parents' room. This was
her chance. She had to get to the phone in the living room and call the police. Holding
her breath, she tiptoed to the living room. Once she reached the consol table where the
phone was placed, she ducked and listened. The coast was clear, so she slowly picked
up the phone and dialed 999. Help was on the way.
While waiting for the police to come, Kim had to hide somewhere. She was considering
the store room when she clumsily knocked a vase that her mother had decoratively put
on the consol table. She tried to catch it but failed. The vase shattered on the floor and
the sound alerted the burglars as much as it had made Kim panic. She rushed to the
store room and hid inside. In just a few seconds, she could hear footsteps coming down
the stairs. Kim was praying nonstop. "Please God don't let them find me in here."
"Somebody broke the vase," a burglar said to his accomplice. "I thought you said the
house is empty!" Kim's cat Tompok appeared from nowhere. It purred and walked pass
by the two burglars.
"See it was the cat! I told you no one is at home." The burglars seemed relieved and
continued searching the house. It was not very long before they heard the siren
approaching the house. Panicked, they left the sack containing all the things that they
had collected earlier, and rushed to the kitchen window to escape. Luck was not on their
side. The moment they stepped outside, the police were already waiting. They were
arrested.
Kim was thankful to God that she was safe. When the police asked her to go with them
to the police station to make a report, she had no objection. Earlier, she had called her
parents and they were on their way home. After such an experience, there was nothing
she wanted more than to be in her mom's comforting arms.
My Words:
This story was written based on actual SPM 2007 question; Write a story beginning with,
"Kim was nervous when the door opened". It is a girl's home alone experience, which
is full of suspense but the ending is quite pleasant. We can always get the inspiration to
write from movies that we watched.

A DREAM COMES TRUE

It was a dream comes true. I just could not believe what I was
experiencing so I pinched my cheek. Ouch! It hurt. I was not dreaming after
all. It was my wedding day, and the man that I was going to marry was none
other than my beloved, Khairi.
Two years ago, I was driving home from work. Suddenly my tyre went flat. I
had to stop on the road side to change the flat tyre. While I was struggling to
take the spare tyre out of my car boot, a car stopped behind me. I turned
around to see a young man coming out of the red car. He was tall, dark and
handsome. He walked towards me and offered to lend a hand. Without any
objection I let him change the flat tyre for me. When he had finished, I
thanked him for his help. Before leaving, he gave me his name card and I
gave him mine in return.

A week later, I received a phone call from him. He introduced himself and
explained that he was attracted to me since the first time we met. I liked his
voice. There was sincerity in his words and I simply couldn't resist him. We
started seeing each other, and our relationship grew stronger as the time
passed. I was in love with him and I couldn't live without him. Sometimes I
felt that I would go crazy if I didn't hear his voice even for only one day.
There was a problem. My parents were planning to marry me with their
friend's son. How could my parents want me to marry somebody I never
met? They said that the man had just returned from overseas. He was a
lawyer and had good looks too. It seemed that my parents liked this man
very much. I told them that I already had a boyfriend, who was also a lawyer
and was drop dead gorgeous. However, my parents appeared indifferent to
my explanation. I was so frustrated. I wanted to marry Khairi, and I would
not let my parents force me to marry this son of their friend.
Khairi was quiet when I told him about my parents' plan. He asked me to
submit to my parents and not to go against their will. It was my duty as a
daughter to obey them. Parents always wanted the best for their children.
His words sliced through my heart and I cried heartily. How could he do this
to me? I thought he loved me. He should at least fight for me instead of
simply letting me become another man's wife.
The engagement ceremony went as planned. Tears filled my eyes when my
mother's friend Puan Hanim put the engagement ring in my finger. How I
wished that it was Khairi's mother, but I knew that it would never come true.
Then Puan Hanim called her son, my fiance, to come into the room. We, the
newly engaged couple, were going to be photographed by a hired
cameraman.
When I looked up at the man standing in front of me, my heart skipped a
beat. It was Khairi, the man that I loved with all my heart. What was he
6

doing here? It turned out that Khairi was my fiance. He was Puan Hanim's
son. I was speechless for this was indeed a pleasant surprise for me. I just
couldn't stop thanking God for granting me my wish.
My Words:
This story was written based on sample SPM question; Write a story that
begins with "It was a dream comes true..." It is a love story with pleasant
surprise at the end. Most people who read this story loved it very much. If
you can write something like this, I really believe that you will attract your
readers attention. Write about your personal experience, and you will be
surprised to find how easy the ideas will flow. Of course language is
important but don't bother too much...
TILL WE MEET IN HEAVEN
I looked at my friends who were writing furiously and I wondered whether they were
struggling like me. I glanced at my watch and realized that it was already 10.30 in the
morning. We would be going for Ali's funeral in about half an hour. How was I going to
say

goodbye

to

my

dearest

friend?

He was there for me through thick and thin. When my father passed away three years
ago, I was very sad. It was Ali who offered his shoulder for me to cry on. He had always
been like a big brother to me. I would confide in him whenever I had problems. I could
still hear his jokes, his clowning around with us after the exam yesterday. How could I
not

know

that

he

was

sick?

Twenty-four hours ago, Ali was sitting in front of me, struggling with the Chemistry exam.
He was so relieved when the exam was over. We went to the Mamak stall, where we
usually hang out with the gang. He ordered his usual teh tarik and I noticed that he
looked
a
little
under
the
weather.
"Are

you

okay?"

was

worried.

"Yeah I'm fine," he said. "Don't worry, it's just exam fever". Little did I know that it
would

be

the

last

time

see

him

alive.

Later that night, I received a call from Aunty Salmah. She told me that Ali had been
admitted to the hospital for suspected dengue fever. Then, she paused for what seemed
like ages, and said in a tearful voice, "Ali had left us. He slipped into a coma and never
regained
consciousness."
I was numbed. This couldn't be happening to me. I slumped on the floor by the phone,

trying to digest the dreadful news. When I came to my senses, I started calling our
friends and we went to Ali's house. I could not recall how I spent the rest of the night.
When the exam had finished, my friends and I went straight to the graveyard. I could see
many familiar faces there including our school Principal and a few of our teachers. Aunty
Salmah looked calm, but her eyes were red and swollen. Ali's father, Uncle Mat was
helping the villagers to lower Ali's lifeless body into the grave. Tears blurred my vision.
Aunty Salmah suddenly fainted when people started filling Ali's grave with the earth. A
few ladies who were there helped to hold her and tried to calm her down. Everybody was
unusually

quiet

when

the

Imam

started

saying

the

prayers.

About half an hour later, everybody started to leave the graveyard. I looked at Ali's grave
for the last time. It was covered with colourful petals from different types of flowers.
Goodbye, my friend. Till we meet again in heaven. Then, I walked away slowly. I shall
never
forget
this
day
for
the
rest
of
my
life.
My Words:
This story was written based on sample SPM question; Write a story which ends with
"...I shall never forget this day for the rest of my life." We can actually write either sad or
happy story based on this question, but I have chosen to write a sad one. Since I am a
Muslim, the background of the story is based on the Muslim tradition. If you are not a
Muslim, you may write about your own traditions and rituals regarding deaths and
funerals.