Story #04
Classification: short story
Title: Transition (inspired from actual O Level examination question: the day you left school for the very last time)
Yesterday was Monday. I am not mad to say this. Yesterday was Monday.
I still had mixed feelings even as I had entered the school compounds- I did not want to be too early to school today, actually, and I definitely did not want to meet up with my teachers at the corridors or the school porch. But it was mum whom forced me to come extra early today- she had been nagging at me to retrieve some of my textbooks which I had left under my desk over the weekend…; Even as I slowly walked up the stairs to the fifth corridor, I still did not want to come back.
I slowly shuffled down that corridor and into my classroom, feeling all the while extremely hesitant and anticipative. I could very vividly picture what I might see when I had stepped through the doors of my classroom. Josh would surely be there, his head buried deep in the contents of some profound chemistry book, studying Organic Chemistry or about Avogardo’s number or Van-Da-Waals forces. Chris would be there too, tapping frantically at his hand phone as he usually sends his morning love messages to his twenty-seven girlfriends manually; the two of them are always early, I’m usually the third person to reach class…
And yet, there was no sign of them at all today.
I entered class, admiring the gloom of those tables and chairs, still very neatly arranged as though they had never been touched before. That had been a good reason why I liked my class very much. Everybody was very responsible and spontaneous, including Tan, whom we christened as the “Can’t-be-bothered” boy. Tables and chairs were usually very neatly arranged by our class monitor Stan after school everyday. Other classes required a duty roster to prevent their classroom from decaying; ours needed nothing but our initiatives.
I checked my watch. It read six thirty-five in the morning- perhaps I had been too early today. I usually enter class at about six forty-five.
I slowly switched on the lights and fans, pressing each switch very deliberately and carefully and listening to the little buzz of electricity emitting from within the PVC casing. Fans begin to whirl in a soft tone, bringing forth cool air into the little room; Josh would be coming in half an hour later, lessons would soon follow in about an hours time.
I walked nonchalantly towards my seat and sat down. It was located at the second row from the right. I stared at the empty whiteboard: Mr Leong, our form teacher, would usually come into class after morning assembly for his morning maths lesson, and he would be scribbling down some complex formulae on the board about the three rules of Differentiation. Soon I would have to take out my school’s foolscap pad and copy down those formulas, and revise them every night until the day of my Mathematics O level examination.
I slowly reached for a pile of books and worksheets from under my table. Mum had wanted me to extra early to school today so that I would have enough time to pack and tie up my books and loose worksheets. There was that familiar Physics Ten-Years-Series, that dingy copy of Chinese textbook I had flipped everyday when I studied… And that dreaded pink and green book with the words Additional mathematics stamped at the side.
I flipped open my additional mathematics textbook silently, listening to the soft flip-flap of its pages as I glanced through those wordy explanations on Permutation and Combination. Then, right at the heart of the book was a small photo- on it showed a rather large class of thirty two students, all smiling broadly then and oblivious to the fact that they were about to take O Levels in a months time. It reminded me about World War two I had read from my history textbook when Japanese soldiers had taken a photo with their comrade-in-arms before they were assigned to suicidal missions. Their faces expressed a feeling of deliriousness yet innocence as they peeked intently at the camera, some posing, some looking blur.
They were all my classmates: we had grown up together for two years; we had assisted each other for seven hundred and thirty days straight-
I could still remember those anticipative yet eager faces at the first day of secondary three. We had not known each other well then, and were even afraid to talk to each other. But these meaningful two years had brought us together somehow or the other. We communicate with each other now as if we had spent our entire lives together, we made new friends, and we never fail to support and help each other out no matter how difficult a problem may be.
When the going gets tough, the tough gets going. That was the spirit.
I carefully placed each textbook into a small duffel bag I had brought along with me and glanced at my watch again. Josh and Chris would be arriving any time now. I had thought of staying awhile longer in class and wait up for them before going down for food; perhaps Chris would follow me. Josh never does, he’s bent for an A1 for all his subjects; but I should have known better-
I waited for five minutes, there was no sign of them at all- I waited for ten more minutes, perhaps they were late today, I kept telling myself then. I waited for another fifteen minutes; assembly should be starting any moment now- I waited for three hours- nothing came...
*
Today is Tuesday. There is no ambiguity in this statement with the previous one. Today is Tuesday.
Four days ago, I had received my O level Results from school. There had been much celebration and grieving at that particular moment when they had handed us our result slips. Josh that chemistry mugger had attained six points and was going to the National Junior College. Chris, with his twenty-seven love messages, was only liable for ITE (Institute of Technical Institution) with his thirty-two points. I had achieved fourteen points, I did not know whether I should laugh or cry then.
I slowly packed up my bag and got ready to leave the class. I stuffed in my additional mathematics textbook and in the process, my class photo had fluttered out of my book and landed neatly on my table. I did not bother to pick it up and put it in my bag… I couldn’t bear to-
Perhaps some secondary three boy would utilize this very classroom the next year and chance upon this little photo of his ex-seniors class. Perhaps he would pick it up and listen to its silent yet distinct message of: hey here! Do you know your present class was once occupied by a rather helpful and jolly bunch of secondary four students? Remember of a hardworking student of Joshua Tan, and a boy of Christopher with his twenty-seven girlfriends! And don’t forget to check out on a quiet and slightly autistic boy by the name of Bobby Yeo! Learn from their mistakes! Follow their good examples! Study harder!
*
Tomorrow will be Wednesday. That’s the norm. Wednesday comes after Tuesday, just like the future coming after the past…
Soon, I would be going to a neighbourhood Junior College located somewhere in Ang Mo Kio. I’m still not sure what’s it’s name is, but a definitely know that there is a whole new life waiting for me outside- a whole new two years of joy and sorrow, of meeting and parting, of coming to school on the very first day and leaving it for the very last time on this fateful day to retrieve my textbooks.
Today would mark the very day I had left my secondary school for the very last time. I would never forget this very day- of transition of my life from an ignorant secondary student who tends to cling too much on past memories, to a much matured and pragmatic JC student with much to look forward to in his future-
By the way, I’m Bob.
