- For Teachers
Hi, could you please leave comments on this essay? My school teacher gave me a 17/30 for this and I was just wondering what i else i could do to improve it. Thanks
The stars in the gloomy sky gleamed brightly, as though theywere flawless miniature diamonds. However, the tranquillity of the night wasbroken by the footsteps of my sauntering. It was four in the morning, I hadjust celebrated my friend’s birthday at a pub and we partied all day. I was notlike this before. I used to be a diligent, smart and conscientious girl. Butthat was before my beloved mother met with a car accident, my life took a turn.I could no longer concentrate on anything; my grades plummeted, andI started to feel I was uncared for. To relieve the stress I was facing, I drownedmyself with alcohol and even started to smoke. I made friends with bad companyand stumbled into the world of addiction. Every day I would return home aftermidnight, too ashamed to let my father see me in such a state: it would beunbearable.
Drunk and haggard, I shambled my way to the front porch ofthe door. I jammed my key into the keyhole, I shoved the door. The bright mooncasted a shadow onto the tiled cool floor, I could see a silhouette ofsomeone’s back. “Could anyone still be awake?” I wondered with that intoxicatedmind of mine. The grandfather clock chimed, sending waves of chills up myspine. Suddenly I felt my eyes pierced by intense light; someone switched onthe lights. I looked up to see who was there, it was father. His stood therewith a rigid posture, arms akimbo, eyes staring at me with intense anger.
Still under the influence from the alcohol, I staggered pasthim and squealed,”I want to drink more!” Father grabbed my hand with much forceand I flinched. The moment I looked at him, I felt a wave of shamefulness washover me. He looked at me, mortified. “Where was the girl I knew who was ingenuous?Look at you; you don’t even look like yourself. Wake up!” father came down withpalpable disappointment. I felt my cheeks heat up in humiliation, but insteadof apologising, I acted up. I started breaking things and screaming like acrazed bird. It was then I felt a stinging pain grow on my cheek; my fatherslapped me, he could no longer tolerate my behaviour. I stroked my cheeks; I letmy fingers absorb the burn that was induced. I could not believe my father hadslapped me. He had never laid a finger on me before. I shrieked, “I’ll neverforgive you!”And I dashed out of the house and onto the streets.
In a flash, adrunkard driver was heading towards my direction. I tried to budge, but my legswere paralysed and rooted to the ground. I was a goner. Everything happened ina split second, I felt a push and I was seen flying to the side of the road,away from the car. I heard a loud ear-piercing screech and a thud.
I turned to look at the situation, and to my utmost horror,I saw father on the ground; puddles of thick red blood formed. He lay there,motionless and stationary. His eyes, shut tight closed. His lips, pressedfirmly together, forming a thin line, as if wanting to say something. His lifewas hanging by a thread. “Dad!” my holler echoed into the night. I whipped outmy hand phone and punched in the numbers.
Outside the intensive care unit, scorching tears rolled downmy cheeks hysterically, flowing like an express train. I sat as still as coldwax, my eyes ticking along with the clock. Every minute felt like an hour, itwas torturous. Images of my dear father and I having so much fun together whenmy mother was still around zipped through my mind like a broken recorder, goingon and on and on; and guilt weighed down on me. I silently castigated myselffor being such a fool. He was already in his sunset years, why couldn’t I justgive him a break!
It felt like a decade later when the doctor came out. Iprayed endlessly, hoping for good news. The doctor muttered a few words, butall I could hear was “paralysed”. I thank god for this miraculous survival ofmy father, yet somehow could not believe he was paralysed. No matter, tears ofrelief trickled down my cheeks; god had given me a chance.
From then on, I turned back into the little daddy’s girl myfather knew and took care of him with much care. I no longer partied all night,went for rehabilitation to bring to an end to my addictions and impeded hangingout with the bunch of friends. My father and I now share a closer bondtogether, which I will be sure my mother would be so proud of me. Now my fatheris all I have, and I cherish him forever.