Skip to main content

Exam Essay Lagi

I liked this one, and the same title came up for SPM:

Mid-Year exam 2009


I felt the light fingers gingerly unwrap the bandage around my eyes. “Why is it taking so long?” I thought to myself.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you exactly?” The nurse asked. What a way to strike a conversation with a woman, huh? Okay, I was just seventeen, but I hope she didn’t notice that.

I was too ashamed to answer. People judge others by their looks, so, many speculations and preconceived perceptions arouse regarding their age. Some might regard me too old for my age, while others find me too young. Despite the contrast, it can still be concluded that I don’t act my age, based on how I looked.

The nurse sighed with my lack of response, but continued her effort to carry a conversation. “How did you get into this mess? Was it an accident?”

Was it an accident? It was a long story. Should I tell her? What business does she have to know my so-called private life? She wouldn’t believe me if I told her anyway.

I didn’t listen to the other questions that she asked. I was drown out by the thoughts floating in my mind. Some of the memories caused anguish and I tugged at the bed sheets hard, recalling the moments. I was almost in a trance-like state when the flashback started, the sequence of horrifying events.

Fragments of the past experiences were still fresh and vivid in my imagination. I was born in a family of power and wealth. My father was a congressman and my mother was a former beauty pageant and a movie star. I was born with crossed eyes.

Throughout my childhood and teenage years, I was a chubby teenager and was regarded as an ugly girl by both my parents, the epitome of perfection. I was shut out from the outside world and imprisoned in the mansion, surrounded by walls of luxury and perfection. I was home-schooled. My mother told me that I was intelligent and I was too good for any school, but I had a suspicion that she actually wanted to shun me from the outside world. I have never left the house since. So, the only human contact I had was from my parents, my tutor and the servants. I was bored out of my mind and resorted to watching TV. My father was always elsewhere and my mother was always busy with her films, although I had a sneaky suspicion that they were too disgusted and revolted to look at me.

One fine, sunny Sunday, which was on my seventeenth birthday, I decided to sneak out of the house for an ‘adventure’. I was marveled by the beautiful surroundings. Actually, it was the simple beauty of freshly-mowed verdant grass, azure skies with tufts of white clouds that caught my eye.

It was then that I spotted a boy, leaning against the bars f the metal gate of my house. He was staring at me, and he was one of the most beautiful people I have ever set eyes upon.

He had strawberry blond hair, twinkling blue eyes and broad shoulders. He was like one of the actors that I saw on TV.

Without thinking, I called out to him, “hi there!”

The beautiful creature laughed, such a beautiful laugh. It was not long before I realized that he was laughing at me.

He called out to his friends, and they came, jeering at me, teasing my crossed eyes and full figure, and perhaps, my lack of dress sense. One of the boys shouted, “What is this ‘monster’ doing in the compound f the congressman’s house?”

Tears started brimming in my eyes, and I retreated to the back of the house, where my neighbor was trimming the flowers. One look at me and she screamed, “A burglar! A burglar at the Benson’s! Son, call the police!”

People don’t recognize me as the congressman’s daughter? Or they don’t even know of my existence?

Terrified, I rushed back inside. I got into trouble that night. The neighbor did call the police, and the police were outraged that it was a false alarm. My father got angry and he hit me so hard in the face that I had a broken nose. My mother said that I was a changeling and a humiliation to the family.

Hurt, I took the decision to run away from home. I took my father’s credit card and a handful of banknotes and headed out. As I ran, I thought to myself, who in the world would accept an ugly girl like me? Right there and then, I decided that I needed a change of face. First of all, I needed to get rid of my crossed eyes and all my fat, and fix my broken nose.

I headed to the Sacred Heart Hospital. I knew that that was the place where they offered cosmetic surgery because that was where my mother went for her ‘Angelina Jolie Lips.’ I was determined that I had my face changed, so I wouldn’t have to suffer like this anymore.

As I went under the knife, I kept thinking to myself. Was I such a freak? Why couldn’t my parents love me for what I was? Why didn’t I deserve their love and care? I didn’t feel like I was treated like a human being all these years. I felt like a caged animal, lame and pathetic. I’ve had enough of this torcher.

After the operation, my eyes were bandaged for a few days, and I was plunged into darkness. Within that time frame, I kept wishing that ny parents would look for me here, but they didn’t.

“They must have been so relieved that they got rid of me,” I thought to myself.

“Excuse me, miss. I’m done with your bandages,” the nurse repeated for the umpteenth time. I was startled from my daydream. I opened my eyes. It hurt at first, as I expected the first rays of light to enter my brand new eyes.

I blinked. “Are you sure you’re done with all the layers. Why is it still dark?”

The tiles felt cold beneath my bare feet, all of a sudden.

“I am done,” she assured.

My hands flew to my face as a wave of panic struck me. Hot tears came streaming down my cold cheeks.

“I’m blind! Why?”

The nurse didn’t say a word and I heard her footsteps walking out the door, the sound of her high heels clicking against the tiled floor.

My head felt heavy and I slumped into the pillow rested against the headrest of the bed. The tears came flowing down like the Niagara Falls and nobody came to see me at all. Why had this happened to me?

No longer could I be able to see the blue skies, nor the green grass. I wanted to see more of that, but now I couldn’t see at all.

I couldn’t see any of those beautiful things anymore. It was all because of the obsession with beauty.



Popular posts from this blog

Of Engineering and Life

Betrayed by the worst atrociously shameful mark of femininity, the shy, embarrassed, immature, self-conscious, awkward, school girl blush in the presence of a drop dead attractive member of the opposite sex. *facepalm* I'm gonna be fricking 21 years old, hormones, please stabilize.

Taming Tigers

If you have not read this book, get you hands on it quick!
Yes, I'm serious, it is that good.

simply because it is unforgivingly, brutally honest.
What I love of this book is basically the fact that not a single word has gone to waste. Every single description is relevant, and makes for a pinpoint analogy of each scenario in the book. When you traverse each sentence, you already have an idea what the author is trying to portray in the way he describes what the characters do, wear, walk, talk. the simple gestures represent the very soul of the culture so imminently depicted in this book.
And the main character, Balram, seems so real that you could almost believe that he actually runs around in the streets, er, slums of India. The complexity of emotions and the inner turmoil he felt as he expresses his views on the issues.
The author's ideas of a new-age caste of small-bellied and big-bellied people and the Rooster Coop has been compellingly displayed along the storyline, and y…


Okay, yesterday, I went to my little sister's kindergarten sports day held at SMK Seksyen 5, Wangsa Maju Hall. Well, the field is wet because it has been raining almost every day in KL, well, in my area.
Anyway, I was the photographer that day, a tak bertauliah one, mind you. Here are some of the pics. They are so cute!

bacaan ikar

This is not a running in a sack event, this is a running sack

balloon haul
bean bag race

future Rahman formation?Well, I guess that's about that.