-no you don’t know what it’s like
welcome to my life-

hurr.simple plan's welcome t my life is quite nice.interesting lyrics.

anw.ytd had sch.tdy had sch.and tmr's my first ppr.english.screw it.gambit has lessons with us for less thn 10% of our english periods.no surprise if i flunk this ppr.and get retained.piece of shitt!!so much for helping her classes become the top classes for english.ENORMOUS piece of shitt.

in fact.i doubt any sec ones know who mrs gam is.

hoho.just heard shaminah's 'secret' song on the radio.-laughs and rolls on the floor-

anw.i found the essay my sis helped me do when we were supposed to write a 2000 word essay for Commonwealth essay writing competition.apparantly,i was absent on the day when mrs gam sent in our entries.so i didnt hand it up.oh wells.okayy.its a really really nice story and i think i wanna share it here.the title was "Around the Corner".yepp.so here goes:

Around the Corner

"Life is unpredictable. Sometimes, your life-changing moment may just be around the next corner."
-Anonymous

She shuffled along in the Autumn chill, hands deep inside pockets and head bowed, her chin nicely tucked into her long scarf. Somehow, the short trip home from the neighbourhood hospital seemed extraordinarily long that day.

The sun was setting, turning the sky a brilliant red as it slowly returned to its Western home. It was a pity however that no one stopped to admire the breath-taking view. Perhaps common beauty had long lost its value. As the saying went "You never cherish something until you lose it". And such was the case with Anne Brown. It was not until the day before that she had learnt of her mother's dsease.

"Leukemia, critical stage", the docter had answered simply when Anna asked exactly what ailed her mother. It was at that very moment when Anne's life suddenly spun off its axis.

"It's incurable, isnt it?", she asked, hoping for a different answer but knowing deep down that it was not to be. It had not really been a question, but rather, a statement of hope for the impossible.

The answer had been as predicted- no, it was not curable.

Anne had wept after that. For all nineteen years of her life, she could not pick out one instance where she had made her mother exceptionally happy. When it really came to the crunch, it agonized her that her mother had been there for her all the time whereas she could not even remember a time when she had been there for her mother instead. And how she thought with such regret, she would never get the chance to reciprocate.

As such thoughts gathered in her head, Anne found herself weeping. It partially surprised her to feel the moisture on her cheecks but more importantly, she realized that these tears were symbolic. She hardly cried, even as a child, and these tears were proof of how much her mother meant to her, No doubt they had had their fair share of arguments and quarrels, but at the end of the day, her mother meant the world to her. Knowing that only intensified her grief.

In fact, she was so absorbed in her thoughts, Anne did not see the person rounding the corner until she literally bumped into her. With a rump. The bag of groceries she was carrying fell to the ground, scattering fruits in every direction possible.

"Opps. Clumsy me," apologized the old lady as she struggled to get up. Something about this old lady struck Anne as odd but she could not quite put a finger on it. Then, she realized it in another instand. The old lady was not even looking at her. Cautiously, she waved a hand in front of her face. There was no reaction. 'She's blind,' thought Anne with both surprise and concern.

Without a moment of hestitance, she helped the old lady.

"There you go," she said, handing the old lady the bag of fallen fruits. "You dropped this."

"Thank you, dear," replied the old lady, gripping Anne's arm before she could walk away. "Would you accompany an old lady home so she could treat you to coffee as a way of thanks?" The old lady smiled.

Anne paused for a moment, wishing that the old lady had not made that invitation. Turning down the old lady would be unkind, but she really wanted to be alone for a while.

Sensing Anne's reluctance, the old lady quickly add,"It won't take long, I promise."

Anne thought of the empty house she would be returning to, with the lingering presence of her mother in every room and piece of furniture, with the feel of death in the very air itself.

No, it was too much to bear.

Seeing death eat at her vitality, watching her energy slowly edd away, feeling her gradually but most definitely drift away, fading eventually until there would be no more of her left. No, she didnt want to return home afterall.

"Alright," she replied, because there wasnt't any other alternative.

The whole journey the old lady talked non-stop. Anne learnt that her name was Josie and that she was three quaters a century old. She had three sons, oh which, one died of kidney failure and the other two, in the Vietnam war. Yet, when she talked about them, she did not seem to emanate grief, only a sadness mixed with a strange peace, as if she was speaking of fond memories that would never return.

'How,' Anna wondered, 'can she remain so cheerful after the deaths of three of her most precious kin?' Perhaps old age does strange things to the mind. As it was, when the doctor broke the news to Anne, she had been so devastated she thought she could never smile again. Therefore, in a strange way, the old lady's life story touched her.

Josie's husband, she learnt later, had laft her long ago, raight after the birth of her last child. He had evidently had enough of her blindness and left with a fully functional woman. Josie said this with such a cackle that Anne could not help but wonder if Josie indeed harboured any bitterness and resentment.

The more she learnt about Josie, the more she was intrigued by the old lady. She led the hardest of lives, yet she was the happiest. How was that possible? Anne was suddenly reminded of her mother. It was the same with her. She supported a single-parent family and would h=be losing her battle with Death. Yet she, too, appeared to be happy and at peace with herself.

Something Josie said suddenyl caught and struck.

"You cannot grief for people if they are at peace with themselves. Sometimes, to go is less painful than to stay. Holding them back is selfish behaviour."

All of a sudden, Anne was back at the hospital, ten o'clock in the morning. Through a crack in the curtains, she saw her mother wince in pain as the doctor conducted a few routine tests on her. That expression, however, was quickly replaced by a smile when the tests were done. Anne stepped through the withdrawn curtains.

"Don't cry, darling," her mother comforted her. "Everything will be alright," she soothed.

'Stupid me', scolded Anne to herself as she replayed that scene. 'I should be comforting her, giving her peace to go in. Instead, I have been so absorbed in my own lost. Josie's right, I am selfish!'

Anne turned to thank Josie for her wake-up call but Josie was gone. Strangely, Anne had already been on her way back to the hospital.

Although visiting hours were over, Anne knew how else she could see her mother. Climbing up the broad steps, she made her way to ward 8 bed 39, where Chloe Brown laid.

She could not have arrived at a better timing for just at that moment, Chloe was having the worst possible with the disease. Her face was contorted with pain as the doctors did as much as they could to try to rescue her from the jaws of death.

Ignoring the nurses' cry of distress, Anne walked right into the frenzied action, paying no heed to the doctors around her who were preparing the defilberator.

'It should not be like this,' thought Anne as she took in all that and went on around her, 'She should be allowed to go in peace.' Kneeling by her mother's bedside, Anne took one of her mother's hand into her own. It was still warm, but even that warmth was slowly being replaced by the coldness of death.

The doctors, recognizing her need for privacy and knowing that they could do no more, silently retreated out of the room, leaving only Anne and her mother, surrounded by lights and shadows.

"Mother," Anne called gently. Chloe's eyes opened a crack and through the oxygen mask, Anne could see a hint of smile. "It's alright now, Mother," Anne said, her voiced calmed as she stroked her mother's fingers. "It's alright now. You can go. No more pain. NO more suffering. The pearly gates are waiting."

With great effort, Chloe raised her other hand and laid it over Anne's before her eyes closed.

"I love you, Mother," Anne whispered as she kissed her mother's cheek. "Be peaceful wherever you are." Then, a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Chloe was gone. Like a flower in winter, she had brought much joy in her short life. Peace emanated from her face. Anne thought she never looked more beautiful...

"I now walk with anticipation when I round corners. That's because sometimes God sends angels in the form of old ladies who bump into you round the corner when you least expect them"
-Anne Brown


-----The End------

I've read this essay a few times.but i still think its a nice story.yepp.hope u enjoyed it. [=

and for now.the genius is *poof* gone.