Paradoxico; [EVERLASTING]

{A Very Long Essay!}

Benson Pang (28) 4E5
150609
Commonwealth Essay

5. Describe the most disturbing incident you have experienced. What was it about this incident that still haunts you today?

The most disturbing incident that I have experienced would have to be the time when I left my house at the wrong time. I will never forget the little spot of hell that manifested on earth, right in front of my juvenile eyes.

It all happened when I was still a child. I was six years old then, and my mother was getting ready to bring my sister and I out for a day of shopping at the new shopping mall in town. My mother was bustling around the house, filling our water bottles and ensuring that my sister’s dress was put on properly.

“Alright, we can leave once I get my wallet!” Mum said as she wiped perspiration off her brow, smiling as she walked into her room. She called out from inside, her voice echoing through the hall, “Just sit down at the couch, darlings, I’ll be out in a jiffy!” I heard the sound of eager hands rummaging through drawers coming from my mother’s bedroom, as my sister took me by my hand and walked over to the couch. As my sister settled down onto the couch and began flipping through her storybook, I looked longingly out of the door. I wanted so badly to go to the mall; Mum promised that she would buy me an action figure for having scored well for the examinations!

I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulders, tottering off to the door. “I’m going downstairs first! I’ll meet Mum and you downstairs!” I slipped my shoes on despite the shout of protest from my sister, and I ran happily down the corridor towards the elevator. While in the elevator, I jumped about on my tiny feet, brimming with anticipation for the time when I could lay my hands on my new toy.

When the elevator’s doors opened, I ran out gleefully to the void deck. I walked to the roadside, which Mum would always bring us across to get to the bus stop. I looked across the road, to see if the bus was on its way to the bus stop. An unexpected deafening screech assaulted my ears, and I cringed as I turned to look for the source of the noise.

Countless passers-by had stopped along their tracks and congregated along the roadside to gaze upon the disturbing scene, like vultures ready to swoop onto their prey. A black car had gone rogue on the road, screeching as its tyres grinded against the road. Inside the car, I saw the driver tugging maniacally at the wheel in an attempt to get the car back on track. A woman sitting in the front seat, presumably his wife, was screaming while she tried to face two children who were sitting in the back of the car.

Fear gripped my heart as I saw a little girl crying in the back seat, while a boy sitting beside her yelled as he struggled to get out of his seat; his tightly buckled seatbelt prevented him from opening the door and jumping out. My heartbeat had accelerated to an unbelievable rate in the past few seconds; I felt numbness spread through my feet. Nothing could prepare me for the horror that was about to tear through my young, delicate mind. I still remember the faces of the family trapped in the car. I remember how their joyful anticipation of a happy family outing was turned into sheer terror.

I could almost hear the woman crying out to her children, telling them that things would turn out all right, even though they would not. I could almost feel how angry the father felt with himself for having got his family into such a sorry state. My eyes watered as my mind wandered off into the shoes of the two children; I could almost feel my mouth moving, shouting, almost screaming, “Mummy! Make it stop!” The first few tears trickled down my cheeks, which were already moist with cold sweat, as I saw through the eyes of the two children; the image of their mother as a super-woman, always able to do anything, was slowly burned to a crisp.

I was shook out of my state of imaginative shock, and it was now my turn to scream. The rogue car was speeding, almost flying, in my direction! I shrieked as I threw my hands before me and shut my eyes tightly. Thankfully, a passer-by grabbed me and pulled me backwards before the car could hit me. My pupils dilated in fear as I saw the car burst into flame. Dark plumes of smoke billowed from the hood of the car as I heard the screams of the passengers pierce through the air.

I began screaming and babbling like an insane child, crawling away from the scene like an injured rat crawling away from a starving cat. I saw the glass shatter as the father’s body flew out of the car. I shivered in fear as I saw the mother yell hellishly, and I saw tiny streams of blood flow out from the tiny space between the closed door and the body of the car. Acrid, burning smoke and the smell of blazing rubber stung my nose. The horror of witnessing a tiny little spot of hell materialise itself on earth was so overwhelming for someone of my age.

I was lying in a foetal position on the sidewalk, sobbing like a deranged little child, hoping against hope that this was all just a highly realistic nightmare. Peeking through slits in my tightly shut eyes, I saw the door of the car open, as the little girl fell out of the car. She was bleeding from many parts of her body, and as she collapsed on the floor, an empty shell of a beautiful girl that was once alive, I yelled in unearthly anguish.

The thing that fell out of the little girl’s tiny, delicate hands was a limited edition Happy Land teddy bear covered in soot. The exact one I wanted Mum to get for me.

A stray spark landed on the teddy bear, and the hungry flames quickly consumed it

Benson blogged at 6/25/2009 04:42:00 PM.
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