Something that took place in my school
Today, school seemed to last forever; this memory will forever be etched into my mind……
Nicholas, Syed Shafiq and me. Standing outside the staff room like surrendered troops waiting for their execution. We look at the phone beside the door. None of us want to make the call. The solution: scissors, paper and stone. I lost. Great, why me? I picked up the phone and dialed the numbers 425 – Mr. Quek’s extension number. “Hello Sir, We are outside the staff room.” A cold voice answers. “Is Regan here?” I looked around. He wasn’t here. Then, I see him, sauntering to the staff room, his ‘squarish’ haircut sticking out like a lantern. A really bright lantern. “Yes sir, he is here.” “Good, wait there for
Approximately 22 hours ago, Thursday. It was 12:15pm. Me and my classmates were all gathered at the science lab, watching Mr. Liang, our physics teacher demonstrating experiments. Due to the lack of time, we could not attempt the experiments ourselves, so we had to watch Mr. Liang instead. My head was spinning, bored from the constant droning of the billion physics theories encompassing us. I looked at Nicholas – his face was an exact replica of mine. We were both very annoyed: Regan, the person sitting in front of us, was blocking our view of the teacher, using his overly right-angled head. I’m not kidding. Even after our constant and sincere pleas, he refused to budge. Then, a smile grew on Nicholas’s face out of the blue. “Uh oh.” Warning bells rang in my head; he was about to do something mischievous. I was right. Grasping a blue gel-pen, the held it steadily at Regan’s shirt. Then, slowly, mimicking Chinese calligraphy, wrote the letter ‘R’ on his shirt. I looked at him quizzically. Next, he wrote the letter ‘e’. Upon realizing his intentions, I tried hard not to laugh out loud. The letter ‘g’ followed. We were both doubling in silent laughter. Regan became suspicious. Turning around, he said, “What are both of you doing?” “Er…nothing, serious.” Nicholas said in his most innocent voice. Regan turned back to the lesson. In ten minutes, Nicholas’s masterpiece was complete: on the back of Regan’s shirt lay the word ‘Regan”, proudly executed in blue ink.
“Ha-ha… this is the joke of the century!” I whispered to Nicholas. My stomach was beginning to
hurt from all the laughter. He was also laughing. “Wait, he needs a number on his shirt, then it will be like a soccer jersey!” Having said that, Nicholas wrote the number ‘77’ on his shirt. Oblivious to the graffiti on his shirt, Regan continued staring intently at the teacher (his head still blocking us). Nicholas was wondering what to draw next while laughing at the same time. I wonder what I drank during recess; I was getting crazy. Taking up my black pen, I started to draw on Regan’s pants. As soon as the pen touched the cloth, I woke up. I immediately withdrew my hand, leaving a tiny dot there – only an idiot would get involved in this. Jokingly to Nicholas, I suggested, “I know what you should draw, a dartboard. That would be useful!” Again, we roared in silent laughter. Then, the moment of madness came. “Let me draw.” A voice came from behind. It was Shafiq, holding a black pen……
About fifteen minutes later, I looked at Regan’s shirt. I was horrified. I quickly told them to stop drawing immediately. Sensing the urgency in my voice, they complied.
This morning, Mr. Quek, our assistant form teacher, called us out of the class. Regan’s Parents were so furious upon seeing his shirt that they took photos of it and e-mailed it to Mr. Quek. I was implicated too – even the tiny dot that I drew in a moment of folly on his pants could not escape the eagle eyes of his mother. “Meet me outside the staff room at 2:00pm.”
So that was the reason for our visit to the staff room. We were given three hours detention , on top of having to pay $13 for a new shirt. After apologizing sincerely to Regan and handing him the money, we trudged off monotonously, cursing our bad luck.
After reflection, I realise that it had nothing to do with bad luck. It was because of the small dot I made in a moment of folly. This proves that no matter how small a bad thing is, it is still a bad thing – hence I had to be punished. Also, I was guilty of association: even if I had not drawn anything on Regan’s shirt, would still be punished for not stopping them. I really regret encouraging Nicholas and Shafiq to continue their mischievous behavior, instead of stopping. Guys, if you ever read this post, I just want you guys to know that I’m really sorry, and I promise this will never happen a second time. (song - sorry, blame it on me) by Akon