The pair of torn shoes was all I managed to dig up from the rubble of the 5.7 magnitude earthquake that struck southern China. I had been screaming and yelling for my friend, scrambling and searching high and low among that heap of rubble. It had to be a dream. But I could feel tears stinging my scratched cheeks. It was the 7th of September. It was the day I found a new meaning to reality. The cold hard kind. The kind that leaves hearts broken and spines frozen. And the sound of my friend's screams of terror that got lost in the echoes were still ringing in my ear. But I felt a rhythm to the noise, as the sounds around me mixed with the sounds in my head. The honking in the distance was the beat and the howling wind was the bass. The rain falling on my soaked tees was the percussion. My fingers scratching against the rock, wood and metal was the guitar and piano. The lead voice was...that yell for help. It was terrible composition but the a sorrowful one too. I knew my friend was gone, lost in the dreams of dreams. I lost my friend once before and I 'll lose my friend again. I can imagine a dagger going through that already cello-taped heart. But I still searched in that rubble as my hands heeded my heart's instructions instead of my brain's. Well I'll take home the shoe as a souvenir, it is after all another memory of my friend.
Drama above sucks right? Well, the idea came from a mixture of old news, new news, personal experience and a whole lot of crapping ability. But that's what my English teacher wants, and she'll give good grades to an essay of this kind(maybe slightly better and a whole lot longer la). Well, maybe it is sometimes good to be mesmerized once in a while by suspense, drama and dreams.
Enjoying my F4 life (: Heard that school will be streaming classes next year ): All the best SPM-ers. Now go study C:
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