Write a story about an accident that ends with: “….

thank goodness for the good Samaritans”

It was a day before Eid al-Adha and I was so gratified to see my parents at home. I grinned at the thought of them,
smiling ear to ear wearing their new clothes, happy to celebrate Eid al-Adha as it was the first year after two years
we did not celebrate it together since I was busy with my studies. I put the last t-shirt which is my favourite one in my
white coloured luggage and zipped it as strong as I could. It looked like it almost exploded with its packed state. For
the last time, I checked myself by the mirror. I was fixing my chiffon shawl and making sure that I look nice and neat. I
locked my door and went down to get my car, a Mercedes Benz in dark blue.

Although it was a scorching hot day, it didn’t bother me at all. I drove my way out of the university and was on the
road heading towards Pahang, my beloved place. I looked over to my watch, it was 9 in the morning, meaning that I
had two hours to arrive there before the Zohor call prayers. I turned on the radio and connected it to my phone. I
scrolled through the tracks and played ‘There For You’ by Martin Garrix and Troye Sivan at medium volume. I was
drowned in the song, singing it along and tapping the steering wheel to the sick beat.

One hour passed at one fell swoop. I suddenly had the urge inside of me to call my mother, so I did. I dialed her
number before I put the phone near to my ear, and felt the coldness of the screen. Warmth spread through my body
as I heard her voice over the phone, cheerfully picked up my call and asked how I was doing and how she missed me
so much. As I was about to open my mouth, a herd of cows crossed the lane abruptly and I was caught off guard. My
mind went blank as my car made its way to the side with a screeching noise and it tumbled over two times making
the windows around me shattered into pieces and some of it somehow got into my eyes. My body was awfully weak
and my limbs felt numb as I whined in pain. I could hear my mother panicking through the phone and all I could
manage to say was ‘I miss you too’.

Before my vision went all black, a deep male voice regained my consciousness. The voice increased from one to
numerous voices came from whether men, women or even kids. Suddenly, my body felt light as the hefty load was
lifted slowly revealing the faces of men that cooperated in pushing the car aside, creating an air pocket for me to
breath my heart out. They succeeded after a while, earning cheers from the crowds on not giving up to save a
stranger like me. Then, an ambulance’s siren was heard and I was brought to the hospital nearby. On the way to the
hospital, two men and a woman accompanied me and informed my parents about my dreadful accident. It was a
miracle because the three of them were of different races, Malay, Chinese and Indian giving me hope that our
country will live in peace.

I was lying on the hospital bed, playing with the pure white sheet out of boredom. Suddenly, the sliding door was
opened and familiar faces showed up making my tears fell down on my rosy cheeks down to my cheekbones. If it not
for the people who helped me up, I would not have the chance to see my parents again. Thank goodness for the
good Samaritans.
A STORY ABOUT HORROR

I opened the door, to my horror, a few skeletons lay there, chained on the wall.

Okay, time to recap. I and my friends, Jack and Peter, were playing around an old, abandoned mansion. We were told
that no one was allowed to enter. However, curiosity overcame us and we picked the lock, granting us entrance into
the sacred lair of the unknown.

At the sight of the skeletons, the three of us were completely stunned. Our jaw hung wide open for a few minutes
before we came back to our senses. My sixth sense told me that something was about to go wrong, so I urged the
other two to back out of the mansion.

“Don’t be such a chicken,” said Jack, with a shaky voice.

“Aren’t you scared too?” I challenged him.

“Yes, but we might never get the chance to explore here again if we leave now.”

“…All right, but we leave as soon as the first sign of danger shows.”

We ventured deeper into the mansion. The design looked like some sort of torture room, or a prison. Even though I
was afraid, I was eager to discover more. Throughout the lair, we did not lose sight of skeletons or spider webs.
These were at every corner, at every turn. The occasional howls from a distance made the hair on our backs stand up
straight. We finally arrived at a long hallway. Jack picked up a piece of wood and lighted it up with his lighter. The
flame seared at first, but after it simmered down, I was able to see the walls clearly. There were ancient writings, the
kind we usually see in an Egyptian grave robber movie. As the expert in history, Jack tried his best to decipher the
carvings. Meanwhile, Peter leaned towards the wall to catch his breath. At that very moment, a cold chill went down
my spine.

“Watch out!” I shouted.

Before he could react, that portion of the wall he was leaning against flipped, trapping him on the other side. All he
could let out was a loud shriek and he vanished behind the walls. I pounded against the wall, shouting his name. Only
then did I know what real terror felt like. However, the chance of rescuing him was bleak. I sank to the ground,
desolated and hopeless.

“Let’s get out of here, we have to inform the adults!” suggested Jack.

I got to my feet swiftly and both of us sped through the building. My heart was racing. I knew that danger may be
waiting at the next corner. I could hear blood pounding in my ears. Wait, was that a creak I heard? “Uh-oh,” I thought
to myself. The ceiling began to crumble. My sub-consciousness took over. I sprang forward and tackled Jack. Both of
us fell to the ground. Just as I thought that trouble was out of the way, the burning piece of wood slipped out of his
hand and landed in a pile of grease. Fire started spreading like mad. I struggled to get up.

“Come on, there’s not much time left!” I screamed as I turned towards the exit.

“Aahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

In a split second, my head turned 180 degrees. A gigantic marble pillar fell on Jack. I mustered all the strength from
every single cell in my body, trying to lift it up, to no avail. My eyes were watery. I was completely out of ideas.

“Save yourself, leave me, please,” muttered Jack, with a weak tone.

This was certainly a tough decision for me. All the moments we had spent together flashed through my mind. How
could I leave him now? As the fire was close to sealing my only exit, I knew that I had to be rational. I dived for my
escape route.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as the mansion erupted into flames behind me.
A holiday I would never forget

Holidays, a time everyone gets hyped up over, parents planning activities for the family to spend quality time with
and school children ( as well as teachers) jumping for joy. Hello, waking up late, celebrating, goin for tuition and best
of all, vacations! In myy case, a holiday I would never forget is a fruitful one I expereinced five years ago, where my
family I spent six days in the land of K-Pop and ' kimchi '- Korea.

Finally, after ages of waiting, our family arrived in beautiful Korea. Stepping out of the plane, we could feel the
chilly weather to our bones. Never experiencing that kind of weather, my siblings and I were totally excited. Passing
through immigration and baggage claim, we were talking animatedly about our new surroundings. Since we went
with tour group, we knew we were in good hands.

Incident number one. We were supposed to take a bus to check in at the hotel, as instructed. I guessed I was
overeager and without thinking. I ran to a random bus and knocked on the door. The young bus driver opened the
door and looked at me with a puzzled expression. He started asking me something in Korean, which of course I did
not understand. I tried to reply in English, but before I could make the attempt, my father quickly apologized to the
driver and walked me back to the tour group who was watching from afar, shaking with laughter. It turned out that
the bus I was running to was not the bus we were supposed to take. I dismissed my burning cheeks. I was glad I could
be the butt of everyone's jokes on my first day in a foreign country.

It was a bit past lunch time when we were done checking in our hotel. Not doubt, everybody's stomachs were
grumbling. Thank God after checking in, we were going to have our lunch and do a bit of sightseeing. While waiting
for the others outside the hotel, we walked around nearby. There was a row of vending machines that sold various
snacks and beverages, including Haagen Dazs ice-cream , and instant noodles. My mother had a craving for Nescafe,
so she spent her first Korrean money on that.

At the restaurant, a delicious meal was already spread out for us. That was the first time we all tried kimchi, a
spicy and sour vegetable side dish.I did not think it was horrible, buut I preferred the fish kimchi much better. We all
ate using chopsticks, so that was kind or awkward for me and my siblings, as we were not skilled at using them yet.
Being Malaysians, we were used to rice, so it was a good thing that the Korean meal included rice and a few other
side dish, eaten from a Bento box. It was weird though, the rice was stickier compared to the rice we eat at home,
mainly to make it easier to eat using chopsticks. There was also hot and scumptious miso soup together with the
meal. Since my sister and my brother did not like it much, I finshed up theirs. I gulped the warm soup down my
throat- a nice connntrast from the shivering weather outside.

One of the highlights of our activities that we did in Korea was skiling. Everybody from the tour group was
looking forward to that, even the 52-year old couple traveling with us. Since it was'nt fully snownig yet, the hill was
coverred with artificial snow. After grobbing our ski gear, we listen to a briefing by the instructor. He was very help
ful, especially with us kids annd the elderly couple.

Feeling jumpy and hyperactive, me and my sister made our way to the cable car and successfully skied down a
slope. I thought, " We're natural at this," and my sister could not agree more. When we came to see how our parents
and brother were doing, my brother started to throw a snowball towards me and my sister. It hit me, and we started
having a small snowball fight of our own, just like in the movies! I guessed we got a bit out of hand and my sister
accidentally hit a woman's back. when she turned around, she had this angry look on her face and started to walk
towards us.I hurried my siblings to continue skiing with our parents,and we ran away before she cold catch us.
Breathless, we giggled innaivety as we recapped the moment.

In a way, skiing is like swimming. Why do I say so? Well, when swimming ,you do not feel tired , but you would
see the effect when you get ravenous and eat more after a session or when you aintend to tke a nap, but it is
extended to long hours. The same goes to skiing. When we arrived at the hotel after skiing, we were drained out and
starving. Instant noodles saved the day! We all ate curry-flavoured Maggi together, savouring the memontary
pleasure. We also dozed off quite early that night , right after going for a walk to enjoy the amazing night view of th
mountains, and breathing the cool, fresh winter air.
 Shopping in Korea was also different compared to Malaysia. Its malls were packed with small shops or stalla on
every floor. Big boutiques were not seen as much as the quaint kiosks. Nevertheless, I found shopping at their
markets more enjoyable, especially because you could haggle the price. Their specialities were crystals, fabrics and
outerwear. Apart form that, I also liked their wet markets , mainly because they were very clean and they did not
have that fishy smell. I remembered a shocking incident when walking through the stalls of the wet market. A large
fish jumped out its aquarium and onto the floor. I stared at it and suddenly, I saw a huge cutting knife slicing through
the fish's neck! It was the owner of the stall's doing. Then, the owner left the fish flapping around lifelessly without a
head.

There was also a treasure trove among the stalls of the wet market- a tiny shoop which served grilled seafood.
My family stepped into the shop and ordered some grilled fish and cockles.

After saying our prayers, we devoured our mouth-watering find of the day. Dripped in a type of souce, the
seafood was the best I had ever eaten, as you could taste the freshness. Or maybe I was just hungry after a full day
of activities.

If it was up to me, there were so many things to write on my memorabe trip to Korean. Not onli we got to spend
quality time together as a family, but we also learnt countless new things and even discovered hidden talents. My
father always said we should travel with an open mind and an open heart. This is when you get to see your
capability to adapt to changes. Just enjoy the simple things in life and be thankful of what you have. So, do just that.
Who knows you might discover a part of yourself you never know existed?

FORGIVEN

I stood motionless and looked at the solid, dark brown wooden door. The house was painted white, and black on the
wooden beams and window panes. It looked huge and expensive from the outside. I had to make my mind up
whether to knock or press the bell. I turned to face the garden. I thought about going back to my car and drove
home. Home. That was where I wanted to be; or was it where I would be after I knocked the door? I sighed and
walked to the side where there was a wooden bench by the beautiful garden. I could see that the woman in the
family loved the garden. The smell of white lilies reminded me of the florist down the road on Sixteenth Street. I sat
on the sturdy looking wooden bench, trying to figure out what I would say if someone was to open the door. I wished
I did not find out where she was so that I would not have three sleepless nights thinking of why she left me, whether
she was looking for me or whether I should be angry.

I was abandoned at Bliss Home when I was barely four. They said they found me playing joyfully in the playground,
innocently thinking that I was sent to school. After three years, I found out that my mother left me at the orphanage
because she had to go and find my father who left us when I was two. I was devastated, knowing that my mother left
me to strangers. Funny, I thought, how manipulative and contradictory adults could be when it comes to giving
advice. Those at Bliss Home took good care of me and made me realise that I was still lucky to be able to enjoy life.
Sister Lisa was one of those who managed to make me see that I should make the most of myself than being
miserable, grieving my unfortunate life; thinking nobody loved me. I stayed there till I was 12, when I was then
transferred to Rouston Public School. Well, Sister Lisa thought it was a good school. Spurred by Sister Lisa’s
determination to give me ‘life’, I did my best in Rouston and would go back to Bliss Home during semester breaks or
Christmas to be part of the family. Well, I was not sure whether I knew the meaning of that word, but Sister Lisa
convinced me that I was part of them when my presence was usually welcomed by freshly baked apple pie and
mince meat. Then we would all sit in our warm huge and rather aromatic dining hall. I could still smell Martha’s
mouth-watering Yorkshire pudding and roast beef in the kitchen whenever I visited Bliss Home.
It was 8 years ago when I started digging files and tailing endless documents to find out who my biological parents
were. Blessed, I found where my mother lived but was reluctant to go and see her. I knew it would shake her down to
her knees and she would beg forgiveness for leaving me; that she was young and naive; that she would not have
managed looking after me on her own. Even worst, my presence would stop her heart; that she would collapse
unconsciously, leaving me feeling guilty instead. Sister Lisa was the one who insisted. At the end of the year, I
eventually gave in but forbade her from calling Mom to inform that I was coming; in case I changed my mind. She
gladly agreed and even packed me cheese and tomato sandwiches for the journey. I was skeptical when she said that
Mom would be waiting for me. If mom knew where I was, why didn’t she come and find me?

My thoughts were interrupted by a butterfly flying right in front of my nose. I looked back at the house to see if
anyone noticed my presence. Silence. I glanced at my watch but I forgot what time I arrived, so I did not know how
long I was there. I stood up and walked back to the sandy path leading to the house. I stopped at the wooden door
again wishing it was an automatic door so I did not have to decide. Spotting a shadow by the window on my left, my
heart pumped. Somebody was at the window and was walking towards the door. I found it very hard to swallow a big
lump in my throat as my heart thumped against my chest. I thought that I was the one who would be unconscious.

“Hi, can I help you?” asked the girl who was standing in front of me with a huge grin. I swallowed hard while
admiring her curly blonde. Seeing that, I knew she must be Mom’s daughter. She looked 15, lean and has beautiful
brown eyes. Pretty.

“Yess.. Ermm yeah.. I was looking for Mrs Collins. Hmm well, is this Mrs Collins’s house by any chance?”

“Ohh yeahh.. Hmm..Mom’s upstairs. And I think she’s expecting you. Aunt Lisa told mom this morning.” She smiled
pleasantly holding the door. Despite the dazzling big smile, I could see the quizzical frowns on her forehead. I
wondered whether it was because I frowned first. Obviously Sister Lisa must have had said something to Mom.

I waited. Looking for words, 1 folded my arms unintentionally and looked away at the lilies, biting my lower lips. I
thought of saying that it was a big mistake and should just walk back to my car. After all, it had been 25 years since
she left me. It would not change anything, would it?

“Owh well, you must be freezing. Please come in, she’ll be down in a minute”.

She opened the door and took my left hand, looked at me in the eyes as if to ask for permission and pulled me
inside. As I dragged my feet down the hallway, I could see a family picture on the wall. Something stabbed me, right
on my chest. Deep. I could feel the pain that I felt years ago when I found out I was left on my own, and was on the
verge of tears. Again, I thought of walking back to the door but I brushed the thought away when I heard the
footsteps. It happened so quickly, I was not sure whether I was actually there. My stomach tightened when I saw the
hopeful look in her eyes.

“William, ohh it’s you. I’ve been waiting for you for what..like..30 years? I knew you would find me. See, it’s in your
nature. Being curious, that is.”

Well, as if it was my mistake that she had to wait so long. I thought I was supposed to wait for her to find me, or at
least she should have gone to Bliss Home to find out. Silence. I could not say anything looking at her fragile face. I
noticed that her daughter was standing by the small coffee table, looking out of the window expressionlessly,
pretending we were not there.

I looked at Mom pityingly and sighed. I was unsure of what to say. As if to wait for me to invite her in her own living
room, she stood by the door and smiled awkwardly. Despite the quivered smile, I could still vaguely recognise those
beautiful brown eyes when she smiled. Then, she looked down at her hands, which she clenched and unclenched
nervously. I presumed that she was as uneasy as I was. After a moment, I cleared my throat and forced a weak smile.
Seeing that, she ran towards me and hugged me. Sobbing. Tears welled in my eyes. I closed my eyes, afraid that
anyone would see me, but I knew she was forgiven.