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Life is a classroom where we learn many things like skills, experience and knowledge. The lessons can fun or even cruel. However in the end we do gain something. They say, "Hard work pays off." I found this to be incredibly true when I tasted the fruit of success.

During every exam, I would start my revision at the last minute. I would not get good grades as i had not given my all. I despised this habbit but it would still continue to haunt me down until one day, something struck my head as hard as nails. I had barely passed my prelims before the 'Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE)' exam which would decide which secondary school I would go. My mother would get mad at me and scold me everytime I would get a low grade. However that moment when my mother looked at the result, she did not say a word and just looked at it with much disappointment. It was the first time no vulgars came out of her mouth. I started thinking why and what i was doing in my life.

PSLE was just a few months away. It was a weekend after the release of the results. I reflected back about my actions and habbits. After much thinking, I came to a point where i realized how much back I was from everyone. I thought about many ways to improve my habbits and studies. I searched online to find tips and learnt to spend time wisely. I used the weekend to organise my studies and thoughts.

When the week started, normal lessons continued. I was more attentive and stayed back for consultations for the previous chapters which i was unsure of. I also learnt to manage my precious time well. Instead of watching my favourite television(TV) shows, I would go and complete all my homeworks so that I would have time for my other revisions. I would stay up late to make sure to finish what I planned for that day. I had lots of trouble in forcing me not to watch TV but I always reminded myself that i needed to work hard to go into my dream Secondary school.

After few months, PSLE was just a week ahead. I poured my blood,sweat and tears in preparing and was finally fully prepared. I gave my all when the exam started. Those two painful weeks of exams passed by in a split second. I waited anxiously for the results and prayed everyday. Ultimately, it was time for results. I got them and I nervously checked. I passed with flying colours and i could go to my dream school! I cried hard and I was filled with euphoria. I ran quickly to tell my parents.

It was the first time i felt like so elated. "Hardwork really does pay off," I thought to myself gleefully.

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I have learnt many lessons throughout the whole 15 years of my life. However, one incident that happened a few years ago impacted me the most and molded me to become who I am today.

"For this Value In Action project, you will be split up into groups and I have appointed 3 group leaders,"  Miss Lim said.

I was appointed to be the group leader,leading a group of 10  to raise awareness about the ways to prevent dengue fever.I was perplexed as I was the last person you would think of as someone with leadership due to my introverted nature. Miss Lim told the group leaders of the venue we were allocated and guided us on how we could approach residents to raise awareness about dengue fever.

"F...for today, we will..will be going to Toa Payoh block 21 to hand up these pamphlets on raising awareness of dengue fever," I stuttered.

I handed out the pamphlets and split my group members up into 2 small groups. I sighed as I thought of the difficulty I would face being a group leader and being in a group with so many unfamiliar faces. Being a group leader, I had to lead the way and show an example of how to approach the residents and to persuade them to follow the steps stated on the pamphlet.  However, I was too afraid to even knock on the door. I hesitantly lifted my hand and putting it back down again.

Suddenly,I felt a pat on my shoulders and looked up to see my group mates standing behind me, "Let's do it together,"they said in unison.

I nodded my head and felt reassured by their words. I took in a deep breath and thought to myself ," I can do this.' I mustered the courage and knocked on the door. I put on a smile and handed the pamphlet to the resident and  introduced myself with great difficulty.  My group members then added on to explain how the residents could play a part to prevent the breeding of dengue mosquitoes and clarified any doubts that they had.

My group mates then handed me a pamphlet and said "Now,it is  your turn."

I smiled and knocked on the door with confidence and introduced myself, but this time around, without stuttering. I slowly gained confidence and became more expressive at explaining the information stated on the pamphlet after every visit.
Since then, I learned that it Is paramount to be willing to step out of my comfort zone and only then would I be able to be more confident. The  confidence that i have built ever since then has brought me many leadership positions in school that I never thought I would get.

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I walked through the heavy metal gates, past neat rows of tombstones that stood erect in eerie silence to the left and right, in front and behind me, like a sea of the dead. Some were crumbling from weathering of decades, some were overgrown and unkempt, for now even their mourners had joined them under the clay soil. However the one before me had smooth marble with new black writing and still fresh floral tributes. As I stood there alone, tears welled up in my eyes and began rolling down my cheeks like rivulets, letting my memories engulf me.

Carrie was a beautiful young woman, perhaps the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Her hair was a light golden color, and almost reminded me of the color of a sunbeam as it passes through a window. Her eyes were as blue as the ocean everything about her was perfection. I felt like the luckiest man alive. I recently got promoted at work, finally paid the down payment for my apartment and I was engaged to the love of my life.

However things only went downhill from there. Quickly after my promotion I was burried by my work. The late nights spent at the office left me physically and emotionally exhausted. My new hectic schedule ate into the time I had set aside for sleep and relaxation leaving me easily irritable and withdrawn from people around me. My sudden change in lifestyle and attitude began to affect my relationship with Carrie and even though parts of me felt bad, I was too tired to care.

The 3rd of November was one of the most busiest times of the year for me. The year was about to end and I had to rush all the annual reports to meet the deadline. My face had become sunken with dark circles around my eyes from working into the wee hours of the morning. Yet instead of being at work, I was driving Carrie to the airport to go on a short vacation with her friends.

She was still as cheerful as ever and remained understanding and positive about our relationship even after the major changes. On the way there she rambled on and on about the things she was going to do on her trip but despite her jubilant attitude all I had on my mind was work. As soon as she got out of my car at the airport I sped away, anxious to get back to the office ignoring the tinge of guilt when I saw her disappointed look because I didn’t say goodbye.

That night I finally let myself rest. I slumped down on the couch and turned on the television, lazily flipping through channels. Out of nowhere bold, bright red letters flashed across the television “Breaking News”.

“Flight FML129 from Singapore to Thailand has crashed into the ocean. Carrying 360 passengers and 15 staff...” the news reporter’s voice was drowned out by my thoughts, flight FML129? That’s Carries’ flight! My body went stiff. I couldn’t believe it, a million question raced through my mind. Was Carrie still alive? I could hear my heart beat in my ears, agony flooded my body, the images flashing on the television screen blurred followed by a darkness which enveloped me.

Consciousness faded in and out. I couldn’t tell if I was dreaming or not. Gradually things became clearer and I was more aware during these periods of consciousness. I was in a hospital bed with something wrapped around my neck that prevented me from moving, my hands were strapped down to the sides of the bed. The bed had a netting surrounding, keeping me from falling out. I saw a nurse come in and tried to talk to her. When suddenly there was a commotion. I heard someone shout “he’s awake” and then others came running in. A doctor asked me if I knew my name. I saw my Mother rush to my bed side as her held my hand firmly in hers, tear streaks on her face as she smiled down at me, full of relief. Ignoring the doctor I used every bit of energy in me and groaned “Carrie?”

My Mother’s expression changed to one of sadness “she’s gone my love” as her wrapped her arms around me, stroking my hair gently”
In my grief I could not make a sound but only sob loudly into my mother’s arms as I had when I was a child.
Weeks passed I recovered and went back to my apartment, yet I spent endless nights lying awake thinking of Carrie. Life went back to normal, but only now it felt so empty, like it wasn’t worth living anymore. Even after Carrie’s funeral I found myself constantly returning to the cemetery. As I cried rivers over her, I began to resent myself more for the way I had treated her. I was a fool to have had neglected the treasure before me, and now it has been stolen, lost forever to death.

Here I am again, 1 month and 28 days later, on the 31 of December. Everyone is waiting to welcome the new year with their loved ones. I am too with the person I love the most. The cool grass caressed my face as I laid by Carrie’s grave. I’d learnt the most useful lesson in my life, to treasure the ones I loved. What I pity I learnt this too late.

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Curious. If you were to ask everyone around me to state one word that would describe me best, that would be it. Since young, I have always been unable to resist the urge to try out something new, even when I was told not to. My poor mother had to constantly reprimand me whenever I touched a stranger's belongings, or admonish me when I was intrigued to feel the shiny sharp blade of a knife. I was like a moth drawn to a flame, she would say, irresistibly attracted to dangerous things. But her lectures slowly diminished as she grew sick and developed cancer. She would always assure me with a faint smile that it was curable, and that she would continue living for a long time. Because I was only eight and oblivious at that time, I believed her. But somehow, I noticed that her smiles never reached her eyes.

One day, being the curious boy that I was, my friend managed to lure me back to his house, as he promised me that there was an abundance of items that every teenage boy would love. I was burning with curiosity by the time we reached his house, where he finally revealed to me the pile of digital games he owned, including FIFA 18, which was the hot topic of the school. Very soon, I grew addicted, and we dedicated all our free time into this game. Hours spent turned to an entire day, and we even played truant from school as we were unable to peel our eyes away from the screen. My mother grew increasingly sick as the days went by, spending most of her time in bed. Despite her illness, she was aware of my lack of attendance in school, and banned me from leaving the house after school. Uncontrollable rage and fury clouded my mind, and I stormed out of the house after hurling hurtful comments at her.

Little did I know, those were the last words my mother heard from me. I remember coming home late at night, only to discover my mother lying unconscious on the bedroom floor. My breath caught as my mind went blank. Disbelief rang through my head and I stood there helplessly. After snapping back to reality, I called the ambulance, but found out at the hospital that it was already too late. The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down my face. I heard my own sounds, like a distressed child, raw from the inside. The grief surged with every expelled breath, and the knowledge that life would go on without my mother and that such harsh words were my last words to her, made the pain even worse. I would never be the same curious boy again, with regret haunting me for the rest of my life.

Now that time has passed, I of course remember the emotional turmoil that accompanied me after my mother's death. If someone were to ask me about one lesson I have learnt in life, it would be to cherish your loved ones and to not create opportunities for you to live in regret.  You never know when they would disappear from your life forever.

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Discipline was a lesson that I learnt the hard way. Being a student, the only responsibilities that I have are either school or home based. Homework and house chores the simple usual duties of a teenage student. However, these small and simple responsibilities can easily become hard and stressful if one is not disciplined.
It was the beginning of the school year. A new year, new me. Unfortunately the new me was not feeling well and had to miss two valuable days of school. I missed out on new topics that were taught. Homework based on the new topics were given on those two days. I needed to pull up my socks. I knew this because once I was feeling better and went to school, there was a stack of worksheets placed under my table. Everything I had missed out on. There were notes on the new topics, reading handouts and of course homework. Worst of all, the homework was Mathematics, my weakest subject. I had homework on a topic that I had never learnt and it was due when i was absent. This meant that I probably had to do it by the next day or at least by the end of the week. Wonderful. I knew it was not impossible, though, so I was calm and collected. "I can finish it by tomorrow," I thought to myself.
School was over and as always, I followed my friends to the bus stop and chat with them till their bus came. Then I walked home. I love to get some exercise everyday which is why I chose to walk. It was a 10 to 15 minutes so it was not a problem for me.
I reached home and did my usual routine, showered, lay on my bed and used my phone until i felt tired and fell asleep. Then I woke up and did my homework which I did not know how to do. I did whatever I could, ate dinner and went to sleep. I would just have to seek for my teacher's help when I could find the time. And this was how the snowball-effect began.
The next day after school I had to attend Girl Guides training sessions. I could not meet my teacher to get help on my home work. "I could probably read up on the topic in my textbook,besides that is where all the information in notes are derived from," I thought to myself.
I spent lots of time trying to understand the math topic. In the end, I never did and had a pile of homework to complete in a very short time. I couldn't hand my work in on time. Instead of being punished, my teachers let me off the hook and gave me deadline extensions to complete my work. Even after I was given this privilege, I continued to procrastinate. I took time for granted. I would come home, spend hours on my phone, take a nap and then do my homework. My schedule was all over the place and my homework would kept piling up. I could not meet deadlines at all. At that point, I began to worry and stress took over. I knew that if I wanted everything to go smoothly for me again, I would have to manage my time.
I would plan out how I was going to spend the day and to make sure that I was on track, I kept all distractions, especially my phone, far away from me. I had to push myself to complete all of my work on time. My efforts were not in vain. I began to catch up with lessons and punctually submit work.
Time is something we unfortunately can never get back. It is our choice how we choose to spend it . With discipline, time can be spent and managed wisely which will surely result in great outcomes like extra time for revision, hobbies or even sleep!

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In life we learn many different lessons, some we learn from classes and others we learn from own experiences. Something I try to live by everyday is to treat others the way you would want to be treated, and in doing so you would be rewarded with how others treat you. If you treat others how you would want to be treated, it will be very apparent that people will like being around you and help you out in situations, since they know that you would do the same for them.

I never thought treating people poorly could mean anything bad to me. But it was in school that I discovered that me not treating my peers with respect, resulted in me getting no help whatsoever from anyone. I do not consider myself the smartest person in the world, and in school I was not doing the best. It was in math lesson that I struggled a lot with the new topic. I could not unerstand a thing Mr Tan, my math teacher was talking about. I resorted to asking my classmates about it. But no one offered to help me at all. I felt how it felt to be rejected, how it felt not getting help from my peers, how it felt to be ignored. I have realised how others felt when I myself not help them and ignored them. From that day on I started to treat others slightly better every day and gradually more and more people treated me better and helped me more with my studies.

In order to receive respect from someone you must give respect to them. You cannot go into a store, treat the customer service representative with disrespect and be impolite without expecting the same treatment back. So the saying goes, "What goes around comes around".  If you are nice to a person they are more likely to be nice back and they can be very helpful with things you need. People will give you exactly what you give to them, so do not expect anything different.

I believe that treating someone how I want to be treated is the "golden rule" I try to live by and the most useful lesson I have learned. By showing that you are nice and respectful you do not give people reason to believe that you are anything different, therefore they will not confront you with negativity but with positivity. If you treat others the way you want to be treated, you will be respected and in turn have a joyful and honest life.

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Time is precious. Time is irreversible. It is a lesson that I learnt in my life which not only affected me but others. This made me guilty and I could not help but to blame myself for what happened.
"And the second place goes to...Beatty Secondary!" Loud cheers and applause were heard. Everyone in the court seemed to be celebrating however our faces looked dark as my teammates walked up the podium. Drops of perspiration showed our hardwork as the trophy was handed over to us. It was silver in colour. We watched green with envy as the gold trophy was handed to our competitor and could not help but to feel inferior. We could have been the one getting the first place but I ruined everything for the team.
I was a player in the school basketball team and held a crucial role. The annual basketball competition was coming up and preparations were being made. My team was determined to win first place in this year's competition and trainings were doubled in order to prepare us with the skills to obtain victory. As expected, we got into the finals and the match that decided which team would get the final laugh was today.
"Get up! Its already 7.12am!" My mother hollered as I squinted at the sudden appearance of the bright sun. That was also the moment when I realised I was late, very late for the match. "It takes me 30 minutes to reach the competition venue and the the match has already started!What should i do?!" I thought as I dashed out of the house with only one thought in my mind - to get to the basketball court.
I reached the basketball court to hysterical cheers and tears of emotion as i made a beeline to where the coach was. The moment I made eye contact with my coach made me stop dead in my tracks as his bloodshot eyes glared at me like i was a prey in a foodchain. "What are you doing there standing? Get in the court!" He yelled through the deafening crowd. Others might have only heard a whimper but I heard something that sent chills down my spine. In my heart, i knew that i would get a scolding after the match. Nevertheless, i entered the court. The score was 5:14 and my team was losing. Time trickled by as i dodged, sprinted and shooted, scoring a three-pointer. With the help of my teammates, we managed to narrow the gap to the score of 31:34 in the second half of the match. I smirked as i glanced at the scoreboard, knowing that our team will be able to win this match if i scored. Dodging past two of the opponents, i ran for my life, thinking of making up for my tardiness however ,the ball was flicked out of my grasp. I turned around only to witness the scene where the ball entered the hoop - my team's hoop. The whistle was blown, signalling the end of the match. I stared in disbelief as the opponent team cheered, smiles plastered on their faces, looking all smug. At that moment, i felt like planting a slap on their faces over our defeat but the thought was soon forgotten as i felt a stare on me so intense that it felt like holes were being burnt on my back.
To my surprise, my coach did not mention anything else but just a 'good job' and left. I thought that he would admonish me but this just made me feel worse as i felt his disappointment in me. A few years back then, my coach was the one who saw my potential and gave me a crucial role in the basketball team and i was the one who let him down. Guilt-stricken , i lifted up my head timidly and glanced at my teammates - they were expressionless. However, i knew that they were silently blaming me.The only thing i could say was sorry but i could not bring myself to even say that one word. I only wanted to get this word out of my mouth just to feel better over the defeat caused by my mistakes but it felt wrong. "Sorry...," I murmured, being the only one who could hear.
From this, i learnt that time only goes forward and never backwards. You can never undo what was done and will have the bear all the consequences of your actions. So why not do it the right way - be punctual. It is better to be safe than sorry.

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Discipline, a lesson I learnt the hard way. Being a student, the only responsibilities that I have are either school or home based. Homework, house chores, the simple usual duties of a teenage student. However, these small and simple responsibilities can easily become hard and stressful if one is not discipline.
It was the beginning of the school year. A new year, new me. Unfortunately the new me was not feeling well and had to miss two valuable days of school. I missed out on new topics that were taught. Homework based on the new topics were given on those two days. I was lacking behind. I knew this because once I was feeling better and went to school, there was a stack of worksheets placed under my table. Everything I missed out on. There were notes on the new topics, reading handouts and of course homework. Worst of all, the homework was Mathematics, my weakest subject. I had homework on a topic that I had never learnt and it was due when i was absent. This meant that I probably had to do it by the next day or at least by the week. Wonderful. I knew it was not impossible though, so i was calm and collected. "I can finish it by tomorrow," I thought to myself.
School was over and as always, I follow my friends to the bus stop and chat with them till their bus comes. Then I walk home. I like to get some exercise which is why I choose to walk. It's a 10 to 15 minutes so it was no problem for me.
I reach home and do my usual routine, shower, lay on my bed and use my phone until i feel tired and fall asleep. Then i wake up and do my homework which i did not know how to do. I did whatever I could, ate dinner and went to sleep. I would just have to seek for my teacher's help when i find the time. And this was how the snowball-effect began.
The next day after school I had to attend Girl Guides session. I could not meet my teacher or get any help on my home work. "I could probably read up on the topic in my textbook", besides that is where all the information in notes are derived from.

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“Grudges are for those who insist that they are owed something; forgiveness, however, is for those who are substantial enough to move on” – Criss Jami. I learnt this lesson through the hardest thing I ever did in my life .I forgave my father.

I grew up in a household where fear and betrayal ran deep. My father, Paul, made an oath during marriage to protect my mother till death tears them apart, but however did the direct opposite. For years I watched as he abused my mother both physically,mentally and emotionally I soon discovered that my trust in him was gradually slipping away and turning to hatred..He frequently made my mother a promise of change and repentance, begging her to give him another chance. The first time, my mother stayed. However, it continued. Every day I would hear the sound of painfstrikes and gut-wrenching cries that echoed throughout the house that made my stomach churn.

Hearing the cries of pain of mother made my blood boil. I absolutely loathed him. I really hope that he gets hit by a truck somewhere and dies. I wanted to do something to help but I was only just a child, stranded in this cold and cruel world with no one to. However, even when I tried to stop that loser, he would instead take out all his anger on me. He would take out his belt and whip me till I bled or give me a black eye.

Even though people say that home was is the best, I hated it. I dreaded returning home at the end of the day because I knew all too well what the evening would hold. When I returned home the door would be unlocked, so I would climb up and head towards the kitchen. “Hello, sweetie how was your day?” he’d call from the living room chair. “Come here and give me a hug and a kiss. Tell me about your day.” Oh I’ll tell you, I wished I could say. Today during my math lesson I thought about how you beat the crap out of my mother last night. I will never understand why he would expect me to come running into his arms and not imagining me hoping that he will have an early and horrible death. I was young, not blind or deaf. I dreaded the days he called me to his side; even now I continue to despise his ignorance. When my mother finally had the guts and left him, I was the happiest child alive in hopes that I would never see him again

When I turned 15 however, I saw that loser once again. This time round when he came he looked completely different. The way he spoke, the way he acts and even the “aura” he gave out is different. He then bowed down and whispered in an apologetic tone, “I am sorry, Elgin, for everything that I done to you and  mother."

When he said that, I felt something snap. All emotions that I have pent up in my heart came bursting forwards like water from a broken dam. My face contorted with rage and fury and I could feel my blood boiling. An angry frown creased my forehead and I lashed out at him. The profanities that I used were so much that it would have made any sailor proud. He however, was standing there, crestfallen. Just as I was about to slam the door, I decided that it would have been too rash. I slowly calmed myself down and l process this thoroughly. I than said, ” even though you are still nothing in my eyes now, I forgive you.

After what I said, I felt a great burden from my heart being lifted my soul. After spending time with him, turns out he did really change after the divorce. He became extremely religious which was quite nice and he even repaired the relationship with mother up to the point that they are friends. This is the one thing that I have no regrets ever doing.

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"To hold a grudge against someone, is probably the hardest thing to bear." I learned this the hard way. When I look back now, I realised that I was the one causing all the problems and I still regret my actions one that day. However, through this lesson I was able to change my ways. For the better.

I was a teenager, fifteen years of age, when I had the worst argument with my best friend,Gabriel. Well Gabriel and I were best friends as I have already mentioned and we were childhood friends too. We went to the same neighbourhood secondary school and formed a very close bond together. We could keep each others' secrets. I just so happened to have told him one of my most treasured secrets. One that I had kept to myself up to then. I had still been sucking my thumb ever since I was born.

Gabriel gave me look of surprise and confusion but he never even let out a chuckle. I felt so relieved and delighted. I had always been so embarrassed by my secret that I never told anyone about it. When I told Gabriel about it, a huge weight was lifted off my chest but more importantly, my trust in him increased significantly.

A few weeks later though, rumours started to spread. I asked my classmate what all this was about and he just laughed at me. I found out later that Gabriel had let slip my secret. I was astounded but ,even more, angry. I went up to Gabriel and he already had a pitiful look in his eyes as though he was sorry. Sorry?! How could he be sorry? Did he think saying sorry would make this all go away? For all the ridicule to just disappear? I resented him at that moment. I pushed him on the chest and said to him with venom in my voice,"How could you? I trusted you with that secret. No one knew about it other than you and me. Stay away from me. I never want to see your pathetic, backstabbing, selfish face ever again."

Months passed and we grew further apart. I grew lonely and restless with no one to confide my worries to. I still deeply hated Gabriel but a small part of me felt otherwise. I would spend hours in my room contemplating my actions. I began to feel guilty for what I had done and said. This guilt spread across my body like a poison, infecting every part of me. It was so hard to even think of Gabriel because my mind would immediately flash memories of my row with Gabriel. I could not stand it.

Three months had passed since our row and something happened that changed everything. Gabriel had been admitted to an Intensive Care Unit (ICU) after getting into a car accident. His father had been driving him but Gabriel had forgotten to wear his seatbelt. He was now being treated for his physical injuries. When I heard the news from a classmate, I froze. My heart hammered as I pondered whether Gabriel was fine. I realised then that I still worried for him even after hating him for over three months. I could not stand to be apart from my best friend. I decided to make things right again. After school, which I tried my best to sit through, I rushed off to the hospital and asked to see Gabriel. When I stepped through the doors to Gabriel's ward, I froze in my tracks. The sight of his bruised and bloodied body made my eyes water involuntarily. Whatever doubt I had to still resent him was instantly wiped from my mind as I stared down upon his broken body. My mind was in a frenzy of what to say but nothing escaped my lips. I sat down and looked at his resting body. I decided that it would be best to speak with him when he was awake so I left.

A few days later, I got a call from Gabriel's mother asking me to come visit him as he was awake and would like to see me. When I reached his ward, I saw Gabriel sitting up and looking at me but not completely. His eyes looked dazed and distracted. I sat down next to him and he finally focused all of his attention on me. I was still speechless. Gabriel then said to me, with the softest possible voice,"I remember you." I was so taken aback by this statement. What did he mean? Of course he would remember me. I looked around for his mother to ask her what he meant and I saw her standing by the doorway, silently sobbing. I went to her and asked what was wrong. She just shook her head and beckoned me to follow her outside the ward. There, she told me everything that had happened to Gabriel.

She told me that when Gabriel had been in the car, he had suffered a head injury. This had caused him to lose some of his memory. I just stared in silent shock, still trying to process the information. I looked back through the window of the ward and saw that Gabriel had resumed his blank face. I re-entered the room and sat down beside him. Again, he repeated those same words. I asked him about the row we had had and he replied, "Row? You mean like the argument kind? When did we ever argue?" I knew that Gabriel remembered me as a friend but he had completely forgotten about me right before our row and since. He only had positive memories of him and me. I looked at him and could only muster the words,"I'm sorry". He looked back at me with a confused look.

I never told Gabriel about our row but he did recall us arguing. However, he could not name any details. Whenever this would happen, my heart throbbed with guilt and sadness. I felt guilty for the words I said to him but also for not telling him about our row. I could not bear to tell him about it. I learned the lesson, "To hold a grudge against someone, is probably the hardest thing to bear.", shortly after Gabriel had been discharged from the hospital. I consider this the most useful and important lesson I have learnt as it has helped me resolve my problems with others systematically and rationally. This lesson has brought me to become more forgiving towards others. However, I still cannot forgive myself for what I did and said to Gabriel on that day.

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When night falls, I lie on my bed, wondering: If I ask a room of people what do they love, how long would it take for them to say themselves?

The demon that lurks in the deepest parts of our minds lives in all of us. There is no point in lying, even you have them too. Those pesky little creatures have a great love for taunting us, screaming aloud in our heads, pointing out our every flaw, our every mistake.

At the tender age of twelve, I had already found two of my greatest enemies: the mirror and the dreaded weighing scale.

I had never once remembered looking at the silvery surface and liking what was staring back. Why is your face so round? Why are your arms so flabby? It seems as though I was having a competition with my own reflection on who could pick out the most flaws with ourselves. The thoughts then hang over my head for the rest of the day, refusing to go away like some pesky mosquito. Every single thought was like a battle and every breath, a war. Sadly, it did not look like I was winning any time soon.

The weighing scale was another mountain I could not conquer. My daily routine was simple: have breakfast, skip lunch, come back from school, weigh myself, then have a small treat for dinner if the number on the scale allowed it. It was like a deadly cycle that never stopped repeating. The thoughts in my head grew louder and louder, to the point where they almost swallowed me whole. I remember having to stifle my own cries at night with a blanket, feeling my heart sink even deeper into the ground when the numbers on the scale did not decrease. What had I become?

I had considered telling someone about my problems, but I never knew how. It was like my mouth was sewn shut by the demons, refusing to let my secrets spill. The devilish animals cried out in a sickening voice that made my stomach churn, “Your problems are so minuscule, if you tell someone, all they would do is look down on you!”

Being the foolish person that I was, I listened to them, building barriers as tall as Mount Fuji around me, not letting anyone in. Not even my parents.

Until one day, I made a new friend. Her name was Daysha. She had rosy red cheeks that complemented her features well and short black hair that stood up in odd places. If you had looked closely, you could even see that she had not one, but two chipped teeth. Eventually, we grew closer and closer until we became as inseparable as twins. She had noticed my habit of skipping meals and being the straightforward person that she was, decided to ask me about it.

"Why aren’t you eating?” She would ask.

"I’m not hungry,” The lie had already became second nature to me, the demons did not need to feed me excuses any longer.

However, Daysha was not the type of person who would give up so easily. She would repeat the same question over and over again, like some broken cassette player until I finally caved in and let the cat out of the bag.

I had expected her to look at me in a different light and I would be left friendless again, but she didn’t. Instead, telling her about my secret was the first step to breaking out of my deadly cycle. It started out small: she would give me bites of her lunch that she brought to school. I knew very well that she had purposely asked her mother to pack more food into her lunchbox so that there would be enough for me too. My heart swelled with gratitude. Then, I would move on to proper meals, healthy ones, with fewer calories.

Slowly but surely, my unhealthy habit of skipping meals and feeling self conscious about my body faded away into nothingness. It was almost as though the demons that lived in my head knew their time was up and willingly accepted their demise. Because of Daysha, the war that was in my mind was over and I was the winner. Finally, I had learnt the most useful and important lesson in life: learning to love yourself.

It turns out that my greatest enemy was not the mirror nor was it the weighing scale, it was myself.

It was I who beat myself up everyday. It was I who created all those demons inside my head. It was I who stripped myself off of all the confidence I once had.

The hardest lesson in life was not learning how to be responsible or caring, because how kind could you be to others if you were not kind to yourself first? I had finally learnt to accept my flaws and more importantly, myself. She had taught me that the mirror could not show the real me and that the numbers on the scale did not define who I was as a person. This lesson learnt did not take a day or even a week, it had actually taken me three years.

As I stand next to Daysha now, the only person that I love more than myself, all I can do is smile like a Cheshire Cat because no words could ever express how much I owed her.

“Thank you.” I whisper silently in my head. Luckily for me, that was the only voice I heard that time.

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I had done it yet again. The immense pleasure that I got from it was too tempting for me to simply give up. Although it was a terribly disappointing thing to do, I felt that skipping school was the greatest bliss in the world. Running away from all my responsibilities for just a short amount of time, having the freedom to do anything felt so enlightening!
Skipping school had become a routine for me. I would wake up during the wee hours of the morning, and put together a great show of pretending to go to school. After leaving the house, I would sit around somewhere to pass time, for around an hour or so, before returning back home. All of my family members would have gone to work by then, and I would be free to do as I pleased. This morning was no different. Reaching the front door of my home, a sinister grin formed on my face.
Unexpectedly, almost as if she had appeared out of nowhere, I saw my mother standing in front of me. 'Your teacher said you weren't in school for many days already. So you've been skipping school this entire time? I've never seen a more digusting child than you! Go and play the computer all day, you can go and die there!'
Her words cut deep into my heart. It felt as if my soul was being torn apart, shredded into billions of worthless pieces. There was this burning, agonizing pain building up inside of me, so intense that I could not even breathe. An unstoppable wave of emotions soon began to flood my mind. Pain, regret, and overwhelming sadness destroyed my entire being, and I felt as if there was no purpose in living anymore. Endless rivers of tears flowed.
My mother realised she had gone too far, and immediately moved towards my side in an attempt to comfort me. 'Sorry. I know it wasn't right for me to say that. You know sometimes I can't control myself. But you must be more responsible next time, you can't just skip school because you want to! In life, you can't always do what you enjoy. You're a student, and you have your own responsibilities. Please, don't do this anymore. I work hard everyday just to raise you, and it hurts to see you like this, you know?'
That day, I learnt a very important lesson about responsibility. Everyone has their own responsibility, and we cannot run away from them. We do so, not just for our sakes, but also for everyone else's. When we run away from our responsibilities, selfishly doing what we think is right, we hurt others looking out for us. I would never want to hurt the people who care for me so much. That fateful day, I promised myself to never forget about my responsibilities, the most important part of my life.

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I chased after perfection like a dog after a bone. I was just the same as everybody else, craving perfection. I looked for it in my homework, tests and co curriculum activities. But I learned that perfection was unachievable. I could not continue chasing after an unattainable lifestyle. Grasping at nonexistent straws.

The sound of my alarm shattered my dream and brought me back to reality. My eyes still closed, I felt for the button to shut the clock up. As soon as I pressed it and the incessant ringing stopped I dropped back onto bed, full of relief that I have saved my ears from certain death. I peeked out of one eye, noticing that the sun was not even up. I groaned into my pillow... I still had to wake up.

As soon as I arrived at class, exhaustion hit me and I immediately dropped my head onto my table. I had been studying intensely the night before to keep up with my grades and staying as the top student. I went to the toilet to assess the damages. My eye bags had sunk even deeper and the dark rings around my eyes had intensified. But there was nothing I could do about it.

It was English class and our test papers were being given out. I started playing with my fingers, anxious to get my results. Once I had gotten my paper, I gingerly flipped it over, treating it as something so fragile it would rip apart at the slightest force. I took a look at my marks my shoulders drooped. But not from relief. I got a 29/30 for my essay. The 1 lost mark was like a slap in the face. I kept my poker face but internally, I was panicking.

I could not understand why I had lost that one mark. My streak of perfect marks was broken. I scanned the paper at least a hundred times in search of my mistake. As I kept searching the anger within me threatened to burst out. It was bubbling inside, ready to rise to the top and explode. I took a deep breath and buried my anger. I walked up to the teacher to inquire about lost mark. But all I was told was to see her after school. My previous anger was replaced with confusion. A situation like this had never happened before.

Finally, the end of school came. I stood in front of her, waiting as she looked through my papers again. I felt a bit confident, I knew there was nothing wrong with my paper, i knew that I deserved that perfect mark. She looked up and handed the paper back to me. "Sorry, I'm not changing that mark."
Her words ringed in my ears, " Excuse me? Why not?"

She then proceeded to explain to me something I would always keep in my heart.

"In your eyes, this paper is perfect. Void of any grammatical or punctution flaws. However, that is in your eyes. You have achieved 'perfection' so often in your papers you are no longer able to see the imperfections." She paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, "Something I have noticed is that often you would hand up work that almost had its entire paper covered in correction tape and scribbles, cancelling out previous notes. You should not focus on fixing every single criticism you have about your work. Should you do so, you will never be able to move on with other tasks and would result in spending an unecessary amount of corrections. Across time, the quality of your work will decrease."

I walked home that day with opened eyes and an understanding in my heart. I carried this understanding with me and upheld it. It molded me into the person I am today. And I could not be happier. It allowed me to realise that perfection was an unreachable destination but I also discovered that the journey to it is much more of a treasure.