An Unexpected Discovery

“$4000? Father only left us $4000? What did he do with the rest of the money
that he had?” I exclaimed, after my father’s funeral.

A million different possibilities raced through my mind. Could he have had

another secret family? I thought to myself.

“Sally, trust your father. I am sure that he had done something good with the
money that he had,” my mother said giving me a pat on my back.

              It did not matter what my mother said. I resented my father ever since
then. To me, he was not a good father. He was selfish and greedy. What kind
of a father would leave his daughter and wife $4000 after his death? Before
my father’s death, he was the sole breadwinner of the family. However, after
his unexpected death, my mother had to take up the responsibility of being the
sole breadwinner just to support the family, put food on the table and pay the
bills.

              One day, when I arrived home from school, I asked my mother where
my old report book was kept.

“Mrs. Tan, my English teacher needs the old report book by tomorrow for
administration purposes,” I told my mother as she was preparing to rush off for
her afternoon shift at work.

“The basement!” called my mother as she hurried out of the door.

Why is my report book kept in the basement? I wondered. I put down my bag,
took out our torchlight, and made my way down to the basement. I opened the
wooden door leading to the basement. Walking down the flight of old stairs, it
creaked beneath me. I switched on the torchlight in my hand to make my way
around. There were cobwebs and dust everywhere due to the lack of
maintenance. The bulbs in the lamps needed to be changed too.  The
basement was filled with boxes of my father’s belongings, placed there after
his death.  I walked around the basement looking through the boxes for my
report book.

“Where can my report book be?” I muttered under my breath.

One of the boxes caught my eye. The box was sealed tightly like it was
protecting a secret. I compared it to the other boxes around and it was the
only sealed box. What could be inside? I thought to myself, making my way to
the box. Dusting off the layer of white dust on the top, I used a penknife on the
shelf to open it up. Sweat trickled down my forehead as I cut through the last
piece of tape. What could be inside this box that had to be taped up? What
would I discover about my father? I wondered.

              “1, 2, 3,” I counted to myself before finally opening the box. Peering
inside, I discovered that there were many different letters. Picking them out
one by one, I read through them. They were all addressed to my father and
they were from different organisations and people. Each letter was filled with
words of gratitude, thanking my father for his kind donation. Orphans wrote
about how grateful they were that my father had helped them with their school
fees and sick people thanked my father for helping to pay for the medical bills
that they could not afford. I could not believe my eyes! Finding these letters
was truly an unexpected discovery. I then understood why there were so
many people I did not know at my father’s funeral. They must have been the
people to whom he had donated his money to.

Tears welled up in my eyes. Had I really known my father? The more I read
the letters, the more I started to understand him. My father was not a selfish
and greedy man. Instead, he was a generous and selfless man. He had
donated his money to those who needed it more than him.

After a long time in the basement reading each of those letters, I closed up the
box again. Finding out my father’s true personality was an unexpected
discovery. I learnt one of the most important lessons of my life that day and I
promised to always remember him for the generous man that he was.
An Unexpected Incident
Do you think good deeds always pay off? If you think so, think
again…

Here I was, in the park near my house, immersed in the one and only
game of the year – ‘Pokemon Go’.

As I was sauntering along the path, the cool gentle breeze caressed
against my chubby cheeks. Suddenly , upon spotting my ‘prized
prey’, I sprinted like a horse of a gladiator to catch it.

The chase was a tiring one. After successfully capturing a few

Pokemons to my heart’s content, I realised how exhausted I was.
This time I darted not to catch a Pokemon but to a bench to ‘catch’
my breath. I was dead beat.

As I was resting, I noticed a few people playing with their adorable

dogs. There was one particular owner who caught my fancy as he
appeared to be more or less my age. He was playing with a frisbee
with his agile and juvenile dog. I was enjoying the rapport between
the master and his pet.

After a few exchanges, the wind blew a bit more violently changing
the course of one of the throws causing the frisbee to land relatively
close to where I was sitting. Genuinely, wanting to do a good deed I
bent down to pick it when suddenly, I felt a set of sharp teeth
sinking into my wrist!

“Ah!!!” I bawled my lungs out as I winced in pain.

Unfortunately, the apparent size of the dog and the intensity of the
bite were disproportionate! The owner rushed to the spot looking
very remorseful and upset.

“I’m so sorry but you really shouldn’t have touched the frisbee as my
dog is very possessive about it and must have thought that you
were taking it away from him. He’s cheeky but usually doesn’t bite,”
he said ruefully.

With his arms akimbo, he lashed a tirade at the dog. However, the
dog could not be blamed as its reaction was second nature to it.

The owner informed my parents on what had happened and

accompanied me to the a poly clinic nearby.

Luckily for me, it was not a serious bite and could be sorted out with
a simple jab and a small plaster.

The owner apologised yet again. As he was leaving, he gave a small

piece of advice which was to concur with the owner before petting
a dog or touching any article related to it. I  nodded my head in
agreement.

As I was heading home, I began to reflect on my actions. I had

come to a conclusion that it was good to extend a helping hand but
sometimes being overindulgent can actually misfire.
An Unusual Incident
I quickened my steps as I warily eyed my surroundings.  The birds positioned
on the lush, green trees were not chirping merrily as usual.  The air around me
was stifling.  Looking at the long, winding lane, I was reminded of the fact that
I had to walk through this deserted park with nobody to help me, should
anything go wrong.  I always took the same route back home after school, but
today the park seemed particularly unusual as it gave off an eerie feeling,
making me shudder my shoulders unwittingly.

Just then, I noticed an odd lady walking along the lane in front of

me.  Strangely, she seemed to be gliding, shuffling and dragging her feet on
the ground all at the same time.  Her waist-length hair was grey and especially
tangled.  Her long nails with dirt in between were yellowed with age and the
wrinkles and folds on her arm reminded me of the witch in my fairytale book,
although she did not have a broom with her or carrying a pot of frog stew
around.  There were no other passersby around.  Despite my belief that
witches were non-existent, I did not want to take any chances and decided to
use the longer, but supposedly “safer” route to go home.

I heaved a sigh of relief as I walked along the other lane.  To my horror, I

closed my eyes for a millisecond to blink and when I opened them, the same
lady who I had seen earlier appeared in front of me again!  Cold sweat began
to drip down profusely from my forehead as I tried to take deep breaths to
calm myself down.  My heart rate increased almost instantly and my eyes
widened in shock.  How could such a weird incident like this happen in broad
daylight?

Just as I was about to faint in anxiety, the “witch” turned her head slightly to
look at me.  Her nose was crooked, ugly warts dotted her lopsided face. 
Surprisingly, her eyes were a beautiful crimson blue, which resembled the
gorgeous ocean waters.  For a moment, I was in awe of this woman who I had
earlier labelled as evil and ruthless.  However breathtaking her eyes were,
they seemed to tell a sad story.  Her eyes looked lonely and desperate, as if
she was deprived of something she once loved very dearly, and was calling
out for help.

She turned back quickly and hastened her steps.  As she moved, something
black dropped out of her bag.  I picked up the black object and realised it was
a book.  Curious, I leafed through the pages, but like its cover page, they were
painted plain black.  I then looked up to return the book but the lady had
disappeared, vanished into thin air and she was nowhere to be seen. 
Traumatised by the incident, I left the book where it had fallen and ran back
home.

That night, I could not sleep.  This unusual incident left me perturbed and

anxious.  I never told anyone what had happened that day.  Who was this
lady?  What book was that?  Nobody will ever know.