Winners for the theme: (A Day To Remember)

1st: James Francis Shutler, 15, St Joseph’s Institution

  

Friends till the End 

Jason and Michael went way, way back.
When did they become the best of friends? Maybe it was when Jason saved Michael’s life by beating up a rattlesnake with a golf club.
Did I mention that he was ten years old then?
Maybe it was while Michael was slaving with Jason to help him finish his frequent community service. Michael being there made all the difference.
I must also not forget the time they climbed Mount Nesthorn in Switzerland, and served in the army together.
The weeks turned into months, the months turned into years, and they grew closer everyday, brothers in arms.
Being young men, they started dating, going for similar girls – even going on group dates. They gave other courage – they could always count on each other for advice, support or just a listening ear.
I now fast-forward three years into their future – a frosty July morning. Church bells rang throughout the streets of Sand Point, Idaho. Flowers were thrown and wine was toasted to the health of the two beautiful couples who had chosen to wed at the same time on the same day – in the same church.
Later, Michael and Jason found themselves once again climbing a mountain, Schweitzer Mountain, this time on a chairlift ride with their wives, Cherry and Vanessa, treating themselves to a truly panoramic view of the pristine waters of Lake Pend Oreille.
The utterly breath-taking view completely mesmerized them.
The setting sun cast a lovely salmon pink glow over the cotton wool-like clouds, as it slowly dipped below the horizon. The remaining light glinted on the soft bed of snow like a sea of diamonds as a fresh breeze tickled their skin.
It was impossible to resist the urge to wrap their arms around their spouses and give them their very first kiss…
However, the day I remember most occurs years later in 1940, long after they got their first house in Louth, Lincolnshire and had their first child. It all started with a loud knock on Michael’s door…
An army officer holding an official looking letter greeted him – he had been recruited into the army!
There had been reports of the Germans taking over much of France and constantly bombing London, but just how bad was it? How would he break the news to Vanessa? Then the officer knocked on Jason’s door as well…
Months later, they were again fighting side by side – this time for real. With their trucks bombed, they endured endless marches in searing heat, digging trenches and pitching camp – when they were not fighting Germans.
The battles were where all hell broke loose. Thick smoke and gas made visibility low. Their ears rang with the sharp cracks of gunfire and exploding shells – whistling like firecrackers before unleashing deadly shockwaves and spitting shrapnel.
There was an incessant fear of death – an ever-present possibility. Every time they heard the “rat-tat-tat” of machine gun fire, or the droning of German fighters overhead like a swarm of angry bees, they would break out a cold sweat.
They soon lost count of how many times they brushed with death. Gas bombs spewed poisonous fumes, choking the life out of people, slowly burning them from the inside out. There was also a fire in their trench. Michael remembered flames rapidly filling his vision, burning him, the pain like boiling acid, slowly dissolving his skin. The smoke temporarily blinded him – it was only thanks to Jason that he escaped with his life.
Then winter came, bringing harsh cold winds. Many fell very sick, trembling non-stop from the bitter chill. Cut off from help on all sides by the Germans – nothing could be done. Then came the inevitable. Ambushed, they had to flee, yet choosing to carry their sick and injured comrades along.
In the end, they could only watch as the ruthless Germans caught up, slaughtering every man capable of resisting. I cannot imagine the painful shock that engulfed Michael when Jason, his childhood friend, crumpled, bleeding and battered, onto the floor, never to move again…
Michael awoke in a bare, dimly lit room. On a solitary table was a row of torture tools. He knew what was coming. Several rough looking soldiers shoved him into a chair, and bound him with sharp cord.
“Tell us where your next offensives will be ‘captain’ and I will let you live, or else…”their leader barked, letting that threat hang in the air.
Save your breath, I thought, you’ll kill him anyway…
“Never”, Michael’s features were set in stone.
Immediately he was bombarded with a volley of fierce punches and kicks that left him doubled over, vomiting, his left cheek and eye a mess of crimson red blood.
He still did not give in.
They then took a device that resembled tweezers and handcuffed his hands to the table. My eyes widened in horror. They began to tear his nails right from his hands. He howled tight animal screams of pain, shattering the evening. His eyes teared, flashing fire like that of a madman’s.
If I were he, I would have given up long before that, but losing his best friend made him more determined than ever – not to betray the cause Jason gave his life for.
Another soldier entered, “Sir our spies obtained the information you seeked.”
“Good… kill him.”   
That well-placed gunshot would ring in my dreams for a long time…
Who am I? Just outside that room, through a one-way window was a group of Hitler Youth forced to watch the gruesome spectacle.
I was deeply moved by Michael’s immeasurable courage, and greatly ashamed of my association with the Nazis. They were close friends, brought even closer through war, who stuck together till the end.
I imagined their family waiting endlessly for him to return – they deserved to know what happened. I stole his bloodstained diary, vowing to one day return it to their family and tell them that they both died… heroes…
      

2nd: Lim Xin Hui Kelly, 14, Tanjong Katong Girls School

The Day I Called her “Mum”

The sun reappeared from the blanket of heavy clouds and golden rays came shinning down, indulging us with its warmth and comfort. Looking at my mother, I suddenly realized how much she has aged in the past few years. There were threatening wrinkles waiting to smother her upper face and she has lately begun to feel exhausted easily. Suddenly, I felt tears welling up in the corner of my eye, waiting to spill out any second and memories of that very day replayed in my mind…
“Amy, do you think that we our ‘pptb’ would appear today?” I asked. My best friend Amy looked at me with the same gentle, wistful smile and answered “let’s hope so!” This was a question that most of us would ask each another every day, unaware of what lays ahead of us and what our future might become. ‘Pptb’ refers to Possible Parents To Be. I am an orphan, abandoned by my birth mother in front of the orphanage, clad in a mere piece of blanket. The orphanage took me in, attended to my meals and every need and sent me to school. Now, I am a six year old child, waiting every day in hope that a ‘Pptb’ would adopt me and shower me with love, care and concern. We would be at our best behaviour and would be dressed neatly whenever the ‘Pptb’ are visiting. The teachers would then lead us to a waiting room in which we have to show our personal talents and impress the judges, in which in this case are the ‘Pptb’.
That day, I decided to put up a magic performance and to seek the assistance of the ‘Pptb’ to help with the heavy props. The ‘Pptb’ turned out to be a lady, single, in her forties, well dressed. Though not pretty, she has a pleasant look on her face. After hearing that, many children around me groaned in distress as many would be hoping to have a complete family, hence, for the talent showcase that day, not many actually put in their best foot forward and were instead showing a I-don’t-care attitude. However, the optimistic I felt that although having a mother is lesser than having a set of parents, the love she might have might be even greater than what others can give. Therefore, I performed the best I could.
Indeed, she really chose me. I was as happy as a lark and I was beaming from ear to ear as I bid farewell to my other mates.
“Hello, I’m Sheryl, your new mother. This is the first time I’m taking care of a child and I have totally no idea how to do so! In future, if you feel uncomfortable about any particular thing, please inform me. Now, let me tell you something about myself. I’m forty two years ago and had had a divorce three years ago. I love children and I hope that I would be able to provide you with plentiful of love and care that you are supposed to be given since you are born. i truly hope that I can give you what your birth mother can, probably even more… would you give me the chance to care for you?”
The once hesitant I upon hearing that choked up and in between tears, I told mother “Of….of course mum! I have been waiting for you all this while! This is my first time having a mother, so I don’t know what to do or what to expect… I’m afraid that you won’t like me anymore if I do something wrong and you’ll leave me behind…” “Hush, child. I would not allow you to say that! You’re my daughter and are special. There is no such word like ‘right’ or wrong’ in my dictionary. As long as we face obstacles with a positive mind-set, whether it is ‘glass half-full or half-empty’ Wipe away your tears and leave no traces behind for we shall start anew on this happy journey as daughter and mother”.
Everything happened in a flash, in just one day, I have gotten a new mother, a new family, a new home…
Regaining back my senses, I suddenly felt something wet and cool landing onto my cheeks. Puzzled, I touched them and to my astonishment, I found traces of tear tracks. As if on cue, mother awoke, looked at me and said wisely “Every tear should bear its purpose and none should be wasted on something minor.” “Sure, mum! How was your nap? Did I wake you up?” “Nope, it was about time to wake up anyway. Come, let mummy take a closer look at my precious darling” mum gestured with a playful flick of her fingers. “Wow, my darling has grown up, changed from a playful girl to a young, pretty, mature lady” mum commented as she patted the top of my head. “Of course! My mum was such a gorgeous woman went she was younger, so how can I lose out?” I replied haughtily. “Hey! Are you saying that I’m not as pretty now?” my mum retorted with a gentle smile. I grinned “I wouldn’t dare!”
Though I frequently enjoy to cheekily tease mum, deep in my heart, she was my saviour, a person who raised me up like an own child. She gave me love, more than I had ever imagined. 22^nd October was indeed a day to remember as it was the very day mum brought me back home…

3rd: Preeteashwari Jeyaseelan, 14, Tanjong Katong Girls

The Rescue

It was my grandmother’s sixtieth birthday. I was seven years old. Every living family member and friend was at the beach to celebrate the birthday of a very special woman. The sea breeze was warm and smelled of salt. The fine white sand was touched with the luminous pink of the setting sun. My best friend, Ciara and I were playing in the sea. My parents and my cousin Daniel were talking as usual.
Daniel’s parents were often overseas which was why my parents saw him as their second son.  Although many people said that Daniel was like the brother I never had, he and I rarely got along due to rivalry and the big age difference of eleven.  He was a teenager while I was a mere child. The topic of Daniel was alien to me.
Ciara and I were splashing water at each other .We looked at each other with jubilation. We were having so much of fun in the water that we did not realise the tide getting higher and higher. Ciara became quite tired and decided back to shore to rest before the cake cutting ceremony while I decided to stay on a bit longer and have more fun. I was playing around in the waves not realising how strong and high it had gotten. I did not even notice how deep I had gone. I became extremely tired .If I had a bed; I knew that I would go into a vortex of dreams and nightmares.  I decided to go back to shore. The waves were growing higher and stronger by the minute. My movements were too slow that I looked like I wasn’t moving. The fact that I was not a strong swimmer made things even more difficult.  Then, the water receded and dragged me under. I mustered my strength and I pushed myself up. It was not working. No matter how I hard I tired I was being sucked in. I felt that I was going more into the sea rather than to the shore. Fear stroked my heart.   “Help! Help me! H-” I took in a large gulp of the seawater and went underneath yet again. I found myself immersed in icy cold water. Steams of bubbles escaped from my mouth and nostrils as my arms flailed and my legs kicked wildly. Suddenly I felt a strong hand grip me. The hand pulled me up. “Preetea, it is only a short distance more. Come on, you can swim” said a man.
“No, I can’t. I am too tired.” I replied between huge breaths.
“It’s alright. Hold your breath. We are going to swim under water a bit. “He hugged me tightly to him. “I will swim for the both of us now.” He gasped. He kept me in front of him as he kicked through the water. As soon as he could touch the sea bed, he carried me in his arms and laid me on the sand while he gasped for breath. I rolled over on my stomach, my cheek against the sandy shore. I closed my eyes not wanting to see anything or anyone at the moment. I could feel salty water running down my cheeks. For the first time that day it was not the sea water. The man recovered quickly from his fatigue. When he saw me crying he started rubbing my back and comforting me. The voice was familiar but I was too tired to think who it was. After some time some feeling was beginning to return to my arms and legs. I opened my eyes and was staring into my Daniel’s face which was tight with tension.
“Th…Thank y…You” I stuttered still breathless. I gave him a big hug and clung on to him. Out of the blue, my parents rushed over and hugged and kissed me seeing that was alright. They started thanking the gods that I was safe. All I did was hang onto my god of the day: Daniel. I did not let go of him even when I had completely recovered from my trauma.
The birthday celebrations went on as planned. Daniel and I left early so that he could bring me to the doctor to get a check-up as he knew that I was anaemic. Daniel spent a lot of his time in my house. Despite this, I never knew him for the man he was. Yet through this incident which was barely five minutes our relationship improved. That was the day I met my best friend who never let me down. It was a day that I will never forget as that was the day I truly indeed met my hero. My cousin is truly a man for all seasons.