Walking on Tightrope

Walking on Tightrope

Bih-Ning Yang

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Words Checked: 6467 Words in Oxford 3000: 92%

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Contents About the Author-------------------p 4 Prologue: Tipped Off its Hinges----p 7 Chapter I: Breaking the Habit------p 9 Chapter II: Euphoria----------------p 29 Chapter III: Funambulism----------p 49 Chapter IV: The Art of Falling------p 54 Epilogue: After the Rain------------p 72 References--------------------------p 78 Acknowledgement-----------------p 79

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About the Author "We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

— Oscar Wilde (Lady Windermere's Fan) ☺

First of all, a warm welcome to all you readers who happened to stumble across this book. Before moving on to the next page, are you sure you don’t want to know anything about the author, which is to say, me?

Well, assuming that you would want to know something about me, I’ll start off with the basics: my name is Bih-Ning Yang, 17 years old, and I am currently a third year student at Wenzao Ursuline College of Languages.

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Influenced by a book loving friend, I began my journey into the realms of books some years ago, and I haven’t stopped since then. And even though I haven’t actually written anything that I had actually really liked yet, I am aspiring to be a part-time novelist.

It might seem kind of impossible at the moment, but like what Oscar Wilde wrote in his books, we might be in the gutter now, but we can all gaze up at the stars, can’t we?

Lastly, although this book might not have gone the way I had planned it, I still enjoyed writing it, and with this, I hope I will be able to write more in the future.

With that said and done, enjoy the read!

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To all those out there who’s everyday life is like walking on a tightrope.

*The content in this book is purely fictional, though some parts might be based off real stories that the author have heard from others.

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Prologue: Tipped Off its Hinges

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

-A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens

That was the famous opening line that Charles Dickens used to describe the most explosive era in history─the French Revolution. A very befitting line indeed for one of the milestones that had tipped the world off its hinges and into the beyond. It seemed outrageous that I dared to use such famous lines to start off such a petty 7

thing as the story that I am writing right now, and while I will admit this little tale that I am about to recount right now served as no milestone to the world, it did alter one little thing: my world.

When I was little, a teacher once told me that I was always the brave and the strong one. I had believed so too. I had always thought that I knew exactly what I was doing and where I intended to go.

But she was wrong, and so was I. It all happened during my third year at Norwood Secondary School. That was the year that I leapt into the air and soared.

That was also the year which I tripped and fell. That was the year that I thought I had finally won everything, then only to turn 8

around and realize all that I had lost.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

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Chapter I: Breaking the Habit

“You all assume I'm safe here in my room Unless I try to start again.�

-Breaking the Habit, Linking Park

Beep. Beep Beep. Beep~~ What was worse: a dinosaur roaring outside your windows or your digital alarm clock singing its heart out? The latter. The simple reason would be that when you hear 10

a dinosaur roaring outside, you’d be up and about in no time, either frantically running around your bedroom searching for a camera, or running for your life; in other words, something different from your boring life routine. With the alarm clock, you’d probably be chucking your pillows at the dreadful beeping thing and cursing non-stop before“Theresa, it’s time to get up!”

Your mother came to wrench you into reality, and“Woof! Woof!”

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Your dog would be doing the same thing, scratching at your door.

With a glare at the glowing orange “07:00”, I hit the off button with more force than necessary, knocking over the now mute machine. With a sigh I reluctantly put it back to its original place on the bedside table, glancing at the minute little numbers blinking at the corner of the clock: “4th Sept”. A feeling of dread crept up my back, and simultaneously, I felt as if someone had dropped a big boulder upon my chest, making breathing seems harder than 12

usual.

4th of September, signaling the end of the glorious summer vacation and the start of my third year at Norwood Secondary School, the most prestigious private school in town. If I had been any other ordinary teenager, I would have been thrilled going back to school and seeing all of my friends.

However, I had only been what one would call an outcaste, the barely visible creatures that lurked in the shadows of school life, cowering under the might of those who had the power. Nothing too 13

special; just the norms of Secondary School life.

After a quick shower, I unwillingly put on the hideous Norwood Uniform. It consisted of a black skirt, white blouse, purple pullover and a purple blazer, the exact same color as Barney the purple-singing-dinosaur. Yuck!

“Woof! Woof!” came a muffled barking noise from behind my bedroom door.

“Oh Gerry, can’t you just be quiet for once?” I said exasperatedly as I opened the door to see Gerry, the golden retriever, 14

wagging his tail, holding the leash in his mouth. “And no, Gerry, no walks! I’ve got school today.”

Gerry just grinned on, his tail whipping at the wall and carpeted floor. I smiled despite myself, thinking of how I would rather trade my life with Gerry rather than to face what school would bring. At least Gerry had the whole day free in front of him, in which he could munch on dog biscuits or go for a walk with my mother... I patted him on his great golden head, and raced him down the staircase to breakfast.

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*** The London sky was still basking in its summer glories, and not a single cloud could be seen in the great blue heavens above. Riding down Beaumont Road on my bike, with the fresh morning wind whispering amongst the trees, I could for a moment forget altogether where I was heading. But I knew this feeling of tranquility was short-lived, for this year…well, to tell you the truth, I had absolutely no idea what would happen. I could only hope that they would remember 16

me and the good times we had had during the summer. There was only a glimmer of hope twinkling ahead, and I was ready to take it.

I turned into the long stretch of road that was Bradley Street, passing several identical looking red bricked Victorian houses along the way. Without thinking, I paused before number six. That was where Kathleen O’Dell, my best friend lived. We had known each other for so long that we could hardly remember how long we had been best friends. She was not a very 17

morning person and so we hardly ever went to school together, so it baffled me for a moment why I had chosen to stop at her house. Shrugging, I continued down the road ahead of me, not knowing that maybe I had just unknowingly said “Sorry” and “Goodbye” to my dearest friend.

Stopping before the red light at Crown Dale Lane, I could see the iron wrought front gates of Norwood looming ahead, and on one of the gates, set upon a golden plaque were the words:

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NORWOOD SECONDARY SCHOOL HONESTY‧FAITH‧COURAGE Yes, that was what Norwood wanted others to think of us, like we were some kind of saints, or the noble Knights of the Round Table: honesty, faith, and courage.

As if! I scoffed silently to myself. The honesty part has already been broken by setting that plaque up. Heaving a deep breath, I followed the throng of other purple-clad Barneys into the heart of Norwood.

The story was set in motion then.

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It was eight-forty, ten minutes before the bell would ring for class. The sky was a clear aquamarine blue, and the air smelled of the many fresh pine trees that lined the outer parameter of the school yard. That was when her majesty came with all her ladies-in-waiting: Irene Danti and her gang.

“Hey, Theresa!” squealed Irene’s sweet soprano voice, her jade colored eyes shining innocently under the mild September sun. “How was summer after the camp? I missed you so much!”

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“We tried phoning you yesterday but your mobile was off!” squeaked the Queen’s right-hand woman, Alexandra Glynn. “We have so much to tell you! You’d never guess what happened to Irene after the camp!”

Within the span of a summer, I was promoted from the lowly kitchen maid in the great palace that was Norwood, into one of her majesty’s ladies-in-waiting. I smiled then, thinking that I had at last begun to soar. *** 21

Sometimes, certain sacrifices would have to be made in order to maintain one’s position of power.

“Tell her to stop bugging us, okay?”

“Tell that piece of crap to get lost!”

“Theresa, I know you guys are like ‘best friends’ or something, but if you want to stay with us…then you know what you have to do.”

There were no alternatives, or at least there seemed to be none. I approached Kathleen one afternoon at the Park, a big green area set at the center of our 22

neighborhood. With a strained smile pasted on my face, I told her to please stay away.

The tone of my voice was soft, but I knew that my words were cruel.

At first she had tried laughing it off, trying to shake me back into the Theresa that she had known. Then, she had yelled at me, her eyes widening in disbelief, in anger. Finally, she went into submission, though she still tried to reason with me.

“I thought I knew you,” Kathleen had said to me, looking at me as if she was really seeing me for the first time. “How could 23

you have caved in so easily? You’re supposed to be the stronger one out of the two of us.�

I looked away, at the old man feeding the pigeons near the fountains. A few sparrows flitted in and out of the flock of pigeons, fighting determinedly with the bigger birds for bread crumbs. They looked so pitiful together, those little brown mass of feathers. So what if one day the pigeons offered a little sparrow a chance to be friends? What if one day the pigeons offered to share food with the little sparrow 24

under the condition that it would away from the other sparrows? Would it seize its chance just as I had grabbed mine?

“You had always been the stronger one…you told me not to give in to them.”

“Well, Kath, I thought so too. I seriously did,” I replied earnestly. “But I guess, we were both horribly wrong.”

“Theresa-” “I am sorry Kath,” I said firmly. “I had to break the pattern. I had to try and start again.”

Kathleen stood rooted to the spot, lost for 25

words.

“At least I’ll get them not to tease you so much. I’ll make sure of it, okay? That’s a silver lining, right?” I forced myself to smile, to make myself believe in what I was saying, but I guess even I did not really believe in those last few words.

I left Kathleen standing there like statues of the mythical creatures that poured water into the fountain. I felt so utterly sick with myself, but at the same time, there was also relief. I was finally accepted by the crowd!

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On my way home, I passed a group of teens performing near the metro entrance.

Their lead singer was the typical punk with green spiky hair. I stayed and watched for a while, listening to the singer blasting his energy into his interpretation of one of Linkin’ Park’s song “Breaking the Habit”: I don’t know what’s worth fighting for Or why I have to scream I don’t know why I instigate And say what I don’t mean I don’t know how I got this way I know it’s not alright 27

So I’m Breaking the habit Tonight I was breaking the pattern that had been my life for two years at Norwood.

I knew exactly what was worth fighting for.

I had to break that pattern; I had to break that habit.

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Chapter II: Euphoria

"Sooner or later, you’l have tol wake up.�

All too soon, the last remaining traces of summer were dissolved in the harsh November rain. For the past few weeks, the sky had remained the same steel grey and the sun must have taken off on holiday to somewhere warmer like Puerto Rico. It was the last class of the day, English with Mr. Cormier. I stared gloomily out of the 29

windows, at the blurry outlines of trees, buildings, and angry Londoners trying to take cover under the great bucketful of rain, lost in the realms of daydream. “‘Fair is foul, and foul is fair: Hover through the fog and filthy air.’”

Mr. Cormier was reading aloud from Macbeth by Shakespeare in his deep monotonous voice, and so absorbed was Mr. Cormier in the story that he had failed to notice that more than half of the class were already dozing peacefully behind their books. Normally, English would have been 30

one of my favourite classes, but English with Mr. Cormier was more like sessions of hypnotherapy. Even if you enter the class filled to the brim with energy, by the end of the first ten minutes, you’d already be left in a state of complete stupor.

“Psst…Theresa…” hissed a voice from somewhere behind me, jerking me back to reality. Sarah Brown slipped a piece of neatly folded paper to me from under her table. She beamed at me, as though she and I were the best of friends, but inwardly, I was thinking along the lines of “Hypocrite 31

idiot,”.

“Thanks!” I mouthed back at her, forcing a smile on my face. Since I had been hanging around Irene and Alexandra, people whom I hardly knew had been coming up to me, wagging their tails and lolling their tongues, acting as if they had had always stood by me. Often, I would have to resist the urge of rolling my eyes when their act got a little too gooey. Well, thinking on the bright side, at least people “liked” me now.

Carefully, sneaking furtive looks at Mr. 32

Cormier, I unfolded the paper. It was from Alexandra, and it said: Let’s hang out after school.

17:00 @ the usual place.

-Alex ☺ I turned around in my seat to give Alex the affirmative. She winked at me, before resuming to paint her nails a sparkly blue.

That was about all Alex did during class.

She would either be chatting or flirting with someone, or she would be doing her nails, face…well, you get the idea. She was the typical airhead, another trait that many of 33

the other in-crowd girls seemed to share.

To tell you the truth, it all seemed very meaningless and boring to me, but I guess, I would just have to force myself to get used to that. “‘When he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won,’” concluded Mr. Cormier just as the bell tolled for the last time that day. “That’s it for today folks, and please don’t forget to finish all the questions on the sheet I’ve given you. See you all tomorrow!” *** Weeks passed in a haze of flying colors, 34

and without any discontent in life. I was getting to know more and more people both in and out of school, thanks to Irene’s huge circle of friends. Even though we were often joined by a huge group of people during lunch break and on weekend shopping trips, at other times it was just mainly the three of us: Irene, Alex, and I. On those occasions, we were often joined

by Irene’s boyfriend Jack Jeffrey, and his friend, Douglas Whay.

Jack and Douglas were both in Year Eleven, two years our seniors, and it was 35

also because of that, Irene became the cause of envy in our year. Correction: Irene had always been the cause of envy in our year. Everywhere you go, you’d hear girls squealing things like “Irene’s so lucky! Why can’t it ever happen to me?”, or “Oh! Why can’t I look like her?” The usual.

Jack, a member of the school’s football team, was tall, lean and muscular. He was undoubtedly handsome, and unfortunately, he knew it, too. He was full of himself and had developed a habit of running his hand through his copper hair every now and then.

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Irene thought it was cute, but I found it nauseating...not that I’d mention it out loud. In addition to being a complete Narcissus, he seemed to have an incredibly low IQ as well. This makes talking to him extremely painful since there were only a few things that he was interested in talking about: himself, Irene, football, himself, himself, and did I mention himself?

Douglas, who had the most incredible blonde hair and blue eyes I had ever seen, was not the drop-dead gorgeous type, in fact, he was a tad bit on the plump side.

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However, he had a great personality that made up for his looks. He was always cracking jokes at one thing or another, and making others laugh. Irene found him annoying, but Alex and I liked him well enough.

Hanging around with them, made me feel that I was someone that mattered, not just Theresa Tseng, the little goody-two-shoes.

I was up in the clouds when I hung around them. People would watch us with envy.

People would grovel at our feet. We were the world, and the world belonged to us. I 38

did not know then that it was all just an illusion. I did not know then how tired I was of pretending to be someone I was not.

Only two people ever saw through my act.

One was of course, Kathleen, who had become only a memory of the past, watching me from afar. The other one, well, he just saw through everything at first glance. *** It was on a rainy Saturday afternoon that I met him at a cafĂŠ located in the Crown Dale Library. It was the only library of its 39

kind in the whole of England that dared to combine library with café. Of course, there were regulations that all customers were required to follow, including book inspections prior to entering and after leaving the café section of the library. The Royal Group, in plainer words “Irene’s Gang”, had hung out there on the few occasions that the boys needed to study for their upcoming GCSE’s. But that Saturday, I could finally come alone and enjoyed the mysterious atmosphere of the library with thousands of books piled high in antique 40

shelves.

It was a rare weekend in which I could spend some time alone and sort things out.

Irene was on holiday with her family, Alex was grounded, Jack was at football practice and Douglas was running his own errands.

Normally, I would have preferred staying at home and eat my way through the mountains of novels waiting to be read on my bookshelf like the “secret� bookworm (others would find it too not cool, so I only ever read at home now) that I was, however since Alex apparently had nothing 41

better do in her life, had taken to calling me every few hours and so I had to get away from home. I had deliberately turned off my mobile phone and left it at home, and even made sure that my mother knew exactly, precisely and accurately what to say if Alex were to call again.

So there I was, sitting on one of the lavish cafĂŠ armchairs, reading a spy novel and imagining that I was really inside the story when a voice interrupted my thoughts. “Here you go, sandwiches and a cup of 42

hot chocolate.” The waiter gently placed my food on the table in front of me, a smile on his face. He was of medium height and appeared to be about seventeen. He had dark brown hair that fell casually over soft hazel eyes. He also seemed really familiar for some strange reason.

“Thanks.” I nodded curtly at him, before diving straight back into what I was reading.

To my surprise however, he sat down opposite me, and took out a book and begun reading too.

“Excuse me?” I said a little angrily, 43

banging my book down on the table. Was this guy trying to hit on me or something?

Well, whatever he was up to, he was disturbing the peace of my rare weekend alone.

“Yes?” he asked, very innocently, not looking up from his book.

“Do I even know you? Nope! I am sure that I don’t. So what the hell are you doing here?”

“I work here.”

“That’s not what I mean!” I said exasperatedly, glaring at this stranger 44

sitting so calmly there. “What I meant was…Okay, to be blunt, what I meant was: can you please leave me alone?”

“You can’t act forever,” he suddenly said, cutting across what I was saying. “You might be enjoying this right now, and you might think it’s worth it, but you are going to get tired of it all one day.”

“What-what-?” I was too angry for words.

First this stranger sat down without an invitation, and then he started speaking gibberish? Great! Just what I needed, to be harassed by a lunatic. “Listen, if you don’t 45

get the hell lost right now, I’ll-” “Ah, I am not making sense, am I?” he said standing up, unabashed and smiling.

“Well, you might think you’re happy with your friends right now, but it’s all just euphoria. Sooner or later, you’ll have to wake up.”

I stared at him, lost for words.

“Sorry that I scared you,” he said, putting the book he was reading on top of the table.

“Here’s a book that I highly recommend.

Hope you’ll enjoy it.”

With one last nod at me, he glided away 46

behind the bar, leaving me baffled and annoyed in my seat.

His name was Kevin Whitestone, and the book he left on the table turned out to be really good. I met him a few times at the cafÊ after that, and at first I was wary of him, I mean, who wouldn’t be? He was such a strange person, was he not? Later however, when I get to know him better, he turned out to be one of the most interesting people I had ever met.

Still, I went home that afternoon feeling extremely annoyed. I thought over what he 47

had said, and decided that it was nothing but lunacy.

Nonetheless, he turned out to know my situation better than I ever had. I would come to understand it much later, when it was much too late.

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Chapter III: Funambulism

Definition: the art of walking along a thin wire or rope usually at a great height.

The autumn rain caught a cold and transformed into the cruel winter frost, snow and sleet. I passed a wonderful Christmas break with my family. A little break from all the pretending that I had to do, a little break to get my breath back.

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Soon, the sun finally returned from Puerto Rico, beckoning the flowery spring to come, and the last snow flake dissolved into the gentle spring drizzle. A week of Easter was spent on munching chocolate eggs and playing fetch in the garden with Gerry.

Then it was April, and I was already tired of it all. Now I dreaded leaving the house.

Now I worried about saying or doing the wrong things, and it was like if I took one wrong step, then I would be falling into the abyss far below. It was like walking on a tightrope, an amateur trying to learn 50

funambulism. That was what it felt like to be at the top: one wrong move and I would fall.

Now then, I was not the only one who had a little secret. Douglas as it happened, had his own little secret, too. He was terribly afraid that others would find out about it, because if they did well, he did not dare to imagine what would happen if anyone ever did find out about it.

Unfortunately for him, he just had to mess with the wrong person.

Maybe it was because of the stress of the 51

upcoming GCSE exams, or maybe it was because of his family financial problems, he made the very mistake of snapping at Irene one day during lunch time. Irene was trying to bug him into coming to her cousin’s birthday party and about how she was going to hook them up, turning a deaf ear toward his polite refusals. In the end, Douglas lost it and snapped at Irene, calling her a…well, politely put, let’s just say that he told her that she could trace her ancestry back to the canine species, before storming away. For a split second, a very 52

dark look crossed over Irene’s face, then it was gone only to be replaced by a teary look. Everybody else was too busy trying to cuddle Irene, so I was the only one that saw it. It sent a chill right down my spine.

Revenge came two weeks later.

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Chapter IV: The Art of Falling

“The first cut hurts the worst, but the pain eventually fades along with everything else.”

It was on one sunny Thursday afternoon, Alex and I were chatting near the bike shed getting ready to ride home when Irene came skipping toward us, wearing a very pleased look on her face.

“What’s up? You seem really pleased! Tell 54

tell!” I said eagerly, though inwardly I was rolling my eyes in annoyance. I was sure that whatever she had to say would be centered around herself, parties or Jack, things that I could not care less about.

“I just found out something really interesting,” she said, smirking. “You guys know Douglas?”

“Like duh!” Alex and I said in unison. “Of course we do!”

“Well,” Irene said, lowering her voice to a mere whisper, “This is what I found out about him…”

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It turned out that Douglas came from a single-parent family with great aspirations.

His mother worked hard in order to pay for his tuition fees into Norwood, hoping that he would excel in the future. Their financial burden was high, and so Douglas, in an attempt to help carry the burden, began a frenzy of part-time jobs. However, that still was not enough. Instead, he quit all his part-time jobs, and now, he was earning quite a profit by selling illegal drugs. How Irene found this out remained a great mystery. She never told us and I never 56

bothered to find out.

“Shocking, isn’t it?” Irene finished, smiling radiantly at us. “Well, this is what we are going to do. It’s going to be so much fun…” *** It was ten-thirty pm, and I had sneaked out of bed. I never did want to go along with Irene’s plan. I had tried reasoning with them, but it was as if they were both possessed by some evil spirit. They were both thrilled by the prospect of possible danger. I could have made up some excuse 57

and leave. I could have, but I did not. I guess I must have been possessed, too.

I met up with Irene and Alex outside the front gate of the Park. The night was darker than usual with a swirling mass of grey clouds circling above, and it must have been a new moon night, too. We made our way through the deserted path, taking care not to make any noise. According to Irene’s information, Douglas would be by the fountain area; that was where he normally made his deals.

Irene’s plan was this: we were supposed 58

to steal some of Douglas stash away when he was not looking, and then later on, when he least expected it, we would suddenly appear and scare him. What would happen after that was that Irene would probably blackmail him. Irene did not tell us that, but I guess even an idiot would deduce what she meant to do. Well, with the exception of Alex, she was totally clueless about it.

Soon, we were within range of the fountain area. From where we were hiding behind a clump of bushes, we could just 59

make out the silhouette of Douglass standing near one of the benches around the fountain. He kept on walking to and fro in a very tense manner. Irene tapped me hard on my shoulder, whispering a very fast order for me to creep around the hedges that lined the fountain area and get the dope. I shook my head and decided to stay put; I was getting cold feet about coming here, and my mind was already working furiously on thinking up an excuse that could get me home. “Chicken!� Irene sneered at me, shoving 60

me roughly aside to tell Alex to do it instead.

If you’re so brave, then why don’t YOU do it yourself? I thought angrily to myself, glaring at the back of Irene’s head as she muttered excitedly to Alex. Alex was nodding back, but it was too dark to see her face to know what she felt about all this.

There was a rustling of leaves, and Alex was gone. She reappeared some moments later, face flushed and grinning, holding out bags of some white powder. Irene beamed back, giving Alex the thumbs-up. We 61

turned to see if Douglas noticed anything.

He had stopped walking now and was rocking back and forth on his feet, looking extremely nervous. Irene muttered something to the both of us, which I did not catch, and they started shaking with silent laughter. I was feeling too sick to actually enjoy the moment. It was late, and it was wrong to be here!

Suddenly, there was a movement behind the fountain. A group of people dressed in trench coats came into view, dodging around the glow cast by the streetlamps, 62

not wanting to be seen. They soon reached Douglas. They conversed in low voices for a short moment, before Douglas turned around to search in his bag for whatever he was looking for. Irene and Alex snickered. I remained quiet, a sense of foreboding tingling my limbs.

“Hurry up!” one of the trench coat people said impatiently, giving Douglas a shove.

“Where’s the damn thing? Just give it to us already!”

“It’s-it’s-” Douglas stammered, nearly ripping apart his bag in search for the 63

missing dope. “It’s gone! It’s all gone!”

Simultaneously, both Irene and I turned to look at Alex.

“Did you take everything out of his bag?”

I asked in a hush tone, my limbs tingling still.

“Well, yes…wasn’t I supposed to?” Alex squeaked weakly, showing us the bags again.

“You idiot!” screamed Irene in a whisper.

“Now, what are we going to do? Those people don’t look too happy!”

Suddenly there was the sound of 64

breaking glass, and shouting. One of the trench coats had just chucked an empty beer glass at Douglas. It missed Douglas just by a mere centimeter, and now he was blindly running toward us in horror, the trench coats hot on his heels! Alex screamed and sprinted away in the opposite direction, still clutching the bags of white powder in her hands, ignoring the protests from Irene to stay put.

“Look! Someone’s there!” shouted one of trench coats, pointing in our direction.

“Crap!” Irene swore, and she too 65

disappeared, leaving me alone in the dark.

This was not good. This was not good at all.

Fortunately however, the gangs had seen both Irene and Alex running away. A few of them stayed behind to beat up Douglas while the others chased after the disappearing figures of the two girls. I was safe where I was, at least for a while. What should I do? I bit down on my knuckles to help me concentrate. I had to do something, or else they would all be killed! “There you are!� said a voice from somewhere to my right. I jumped in fright, 66

my scream muffled by my knuckles. I turned slowly around, expecting to see one of the trench coats, but instead, I just saw Kevin there holding a flashlight, and also…Kathleen!

“What? What are you-?” I gasped, staring at them in shock.

“No time to explain, the police are already here,” Kevin said, helping me up.

“If you don’t want to be regarded as an accomplice, then we’d better leave,” Kathleen said, grinning. “You were never here. My parents are out, and you’re 67

sleeping over at my house tonight, isn’t that right?�

Douglas was sentenced to juvenile prison for the buying and selling of illegal drugs, and although both Alex and Irene got away without any major crime, they were both suspended from school for a week. Irene, with her wits and acting skills, had managed to convince the judge that they were only bystanders: they did not know what they were doing and that it was Douglas that had tricked them into the park.

She did not tell the entire truth, because if 68

she did, who would actually believe her?

Who would believe that we could come up with such a childish scheme?

On the other hand, I came clean. There was a lot of trouble with my parents when I got home so late at night and I could not possibly lie to them. With help from Kathleen and Kevin, I managed to tell them the whole story. They were appalled and absolutely shocked by what had happened and I was grounded for the remainder of the term, but otherwise, no one knew I was there. There was no trace of evidence that I 69

was there at all except for Irene and Alex’s words, and no one believed them. Like what Kathleen had said, I was never supposed to be there, so I was never there.

The last puddle of spring drizzle had dried up and the first wisps of summer could be felt in the air. When Irene and Alex came back to school, I was prepared for my punishment and I was not disappointed. In their minds, I was the perfect traitor and they hated me for it. One day after school, I was cornered at the bike shed and my school bag was set on fire.

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That was the first cut I had received after such a long time of being at the top. That first blow after being immune for so long was what really hurt the most. Despite that, I carried on smiling through the rest of the term. That was because I knew from past experiences that one day, the pain would fade along with all that had happened. It might have seen impossible at the time, but I believe it would eventually fade.

Plus, I could finally be myself again, and I had friends that mattered to me.

That would be enough.

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Epilogue: After the Rain

When the sun starts smiling, it is as if the rain had never come at all.

With the KS3 exams over, the summer vacations finally arrived. I woke up one morning to find a long summer stretching out ahead. I breathed a long sigh of relief and immediately went out for a walk with Gerry. Under the glorious sunshine, the nightmares of a few months ago had 72

already shied into distant memory.

My parents had already started talking to me about chanding school, but I still had not made up my mind. I did not want to think about all that right now. I was all for a carefree summer first, and more thinking and decision making later. I had already made plans to meet Kevin and Kathleen at Crown Dale Library later on, to plan on what we wanted to do this summer, and so without further ado, I would be leaving you readers.

Although this might be the end of this 73

book, it would never be the end of my story.

Like what the famous poet Robert Frost said, he could sum up life in just three words: “it goes on�. *** Before you readers actually close this book, I am sure that you must be really confused about two major points: 1.) Why were Kevin and Kathleen together?

2.) Why were they even there in the first place?

The biggest surprise that I had got 74

from that eventful night was the fact that Kevin and Kathleen were actually cousins.

Kathleen had told all her problems to Kevin, and Kevin, like I had already said, who was a very interesting person, had decided to approach me that Saturday.

He had already decided that he was going to study philosophy in college, and he thought that he could begin that by sharing some of his philosophical wisdoms with troubled souls like me.

So, many thanks to Kevin!

The answer to your second question 75

would be that Kathleen had overheard our plan, or more precisely speaking, Irene’s plan. She was genuinely shocked, and though she had tried to phone me and stop me, she could not get through as my battery had run dead. She got Kevin to help her, and together they witnessed what happened to Douglas in the park and immediately phoned the police. Then, they found me, crouching behind a clump of bushes.

So once again, I want to give more than a million thank you’s to Kevin and 76

Kathleen!

Best Wishes,

Theresa Tseng

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References Where I got the pictures from: http://www.apartmenttherapy.com/uimag es/la/atla-032608-tipping.jpg -p.5 http://www.psychologytoday.com/files/u5 7/breaking-glass.jpg -p. 8 http://206.47.170.43/channels/images/ha ppy-face-istock-456.jpg -p.27 http://www.spiritwatch.org/tightrope.jpg -p.47 http://www.nytimes.com/images/blogs/la ughlines/falling.jpg -p.52 http://www.cksinfo.com/clipart/nature/we ather/sun/bright-sun-by-rain-cloud.png -70

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Acknowledgement To Mr. Smith: Thank you for being such a supportive, encouraging, and of course, patient teacher, especially when dealing with my writings!

Cheers, Bih-Ning (aka Beans)

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“Within the span of a summer, I was promoted from the lowly kitchen maid in the great palace that was Norwood, into one of her majesty’s ladies-in-waiting.”

Ever since entering Secondary School, Theresa Tseung had always been what you would called an outcaste. It had always been like that, and it would always be, until the day that Theresa decided to break that pattern.

But the thing is, is a new life of walking on a tightrope really worth it?

Is this really what Theresa want?

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