Opening the brownish wooden door, one would find him or herself gaping in horror at the horrendous sight presented: broken tables and chairs scattered across the room, posters were on the verge of being peeled off at the slighest breeze of the wind, sheets of paper with scribbled patches of blue and black covered the white marble floor, the once-abused inkless pens were thrown carelessly into the midst of the mess, walls were vandalized with a plethora of colourful words; there will have two particular words that would outshine the rest, one that will catch one's attention- carpe diem, seize the day. This is the place where I felt numerous emotions, ranging from crestfallen to elate to abhor; A place where I had, dare I say, tons of intriguing memories that are unparalleled to say the least, and most importantly, it was where I have matured. However, much to my dismay, no one seem to bother about it. Nevertheless, behold, this is the abandoned specialized room for the "rational peeps"(name of the school's debate club).
It is basically like a santuary to me, a warded place that cleanses all worries and hurt. The club teacher, Mr. Debato, was always found in this unit. Whenever we had problems of our own, be it academically or emotionally, he would be our number one consultant. As, unlike the other teachers who shunned us away with a wave of hand, he would embrace us with a reassuring hug, then, provide a listening ear and finally, good advices that would solve our problems- effectively freeing us from our torments and making our day.
This is also where I had grown up, thanks to Mr. Walkytalk. He was the one who had enlightened us with a diversity of values and virtues- one that he always emphasized was "carpe diem". I can still distinctively remember how he did lectured to us about it: holding up a white chalk in his hands, he wrote the phrase with vigor and told us a story of himself where he had apparently missed the only chance to chase his dreams. That very lesson inspired me and contributed to me at grasping all awaiting opportunities- fulfilling my once boring life and cultivated me into an adult.
If one were to walk further into the room, he or she would be able to spot a window right at the corner. Glancing through it, a beautiful scene, almost like a painting, can be seen(especially at dusk/dawn): A crimson orange-red globe sets itself on the sky, shining its UV rays over the flora and fauna; birds of various shape and sizes flew across the horizon; black mobs of hair(children) could be spotted at the playground. And if one were to slide the glass open, his or her ears would detect the perfect harmonization from the hustle and bustle: the rustling of leaves, whooshing of the wind, wild crescendo of ambulance sirens(there is a hospital just across the road), laughters of little children and the chirping of birds. Little did they know that these were all illusions to hide one from the agnonizing truth.
Turning his or her head away to the left, scanning across the room, a huge photo displaying the last batch of members of the rational peeps could be distinguished hanging half-heartedly on the wall. If one were to glance at it, one should be able to recognize me(the shortest one) with no diffuculties among the crowd. A thought would suddenly come to his or her mind, "they seem to be happy", for the members, like bobcats, grinned from ear to ear, eyes wide in excitment, arms across each other shoulders. But if one would to scrutinize it with a purpose, they would see the frown that was drawn on my face. I wonder if anyone had thought of this- "Are they all still happy now?"
Want to know why the club dispersed? All of them met in a car accident on the way home from the national tournament, I was the only survivor. Who says that a special place to one could only consist of happy memories?
This is the first time I attempted this kind of essay. So be kind with the "reviews"( If your thinking about giving one), if possible, grade my essay (??/30). Oh ya, haven't edit yet :P
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