Total: 32/40 (highest in class i suppose)
“Young Man! Please give up your seat! Have you no conscience to see an old lady stand through the entire journey when you are seated on a reserved seat for the elderly? Youngsters these days… ” I had just boarded the bus moments ago and my Monday blues could not get any worse. The old lady standing beside me was furiously scolding and demanding an obstinate and inconsiderate teenager to give up his seat to her. Yet no other passengers had interfered, seeing the tired and helpless looks on their half-awakened faces made me wonder if they wanted the seat as much as the old lady did. She radiated a strict authority, her snow-white hair was tied neatly in a bun and her grey eyes piercing beneath the wrinkled skin. No wonder. Even the adults were in fear of this tigress. She had her arms akimbo, her face wrinkled in contempt and her lips set in a thin line. I could see that her left eye muscle was twitching furiously but the teenager did not pay heed, simply turning the volume of his music louder. All that was written on his face was annoyance. Both were equally vexed at the other. Yet the teenager was surprisingly calm.
“Young man, you’re still young, no harm in giving up your seat. Have your parents not taught you filial piety?”she taunted again and the teen looked like he could not take it anymore. He glanced around shrewdly,desperate to find an escape route. I pitied him, just a little. Who could stand an old lady from hell? Besides, the proper way was to politely ask, not to furiously demand. Could she open her eyes and move on to others? Maybe she just did not like him. Yet he looked only a year or two older despite his baggy clothes. His eyes locked with mine in a desperate bid for help. Then i realized that no matter what he did, nothing would changer her pessimistic opinion of him. That was when i decided to kill two birds with one stone and resolve the matter.
“Ahem,” i coughed. He looked up, his eyes narrowing for a moment as if to read my mind. Then he went back to his phone as if nothing had happened. The old lady had stopped. She was looking at me with a surprised glimmer in her eyes. “Ahem. Would you mind giving up your seat to this…” i stole a glance at her again, “nice old lady who has been standing here for at least three stops?” Her mouth was agape and she stood there frozen, dumbfounded at my flattering description. A thin smile stretched across the teenager’s face. So he knew my game.”Oh well, since you’ve been so nice to me,” he added sarcastically as he stood up. The old lady had regained her senses and eagerly took the seat, sparing a grateful glance at me. Then she stared out of the window as if nothing had happened. The teenager beside me sighed and the other passengers threw us empathetic looks. They must pity us, i thought. Perhaps they had realized that old women sometimes are really scary.
Whichever way it was, doing the good deed made me feel a little better inside. I had not been thanked for m efforts but at least the bus was a quieter. That made me feel like a hero for that. “Why did you do that for?” the teenager beside me whispered, throwing glances at the old lady. “You know you wouldn’t be thanked, so why help?” His eyes stared through my soul. At the same time, i was puzzled. Why had i helped? His words had spurred something in me. Yet i could not explain what it was. It was simply a nice, warm fuzzy feeling, the kind that you get after you do a good thing. That made my heart swell with pride. “Ah… i couldn’t stand the noise. Besides, you looked pathetic, mister.”
He smiled. “There was more to that, right? You have more good in you than you think. They way you help others and talk to them is imply amazing.” His words caught me off guard. “W-why do you say?’ I asked shakily. His words made me wary of myself. He was staring out of the window nostalgically. “Because you reminded me so much of myself back then. You know, a single action could change the impression of others on you? And not only you, perhaps to your country. There is just so much an ordinary man can do… You need not be born special to help others. There is no law or rules preventing you from helping others and making the society a better place… So why not?” It was my turn to stare dumbfound at him. Then i realized that what he said was true, and most importantly, it was time to get off the bus; it was nearing my school.
“H-hey… just what are you anyway?”
“That’s my Alma mater. You study there? No wonder.”
“What do you work as?”
“I’m a youth counselor. And i’m twenty-one, by the way,” I stared at him. How could it be?
“I know. Everyone tells me that. I look just like a teen,” he added offhandedly, as if reading my mind. “Goodbye and have a nice day,” he waved at me as i stepped off the bus and continued to do so until the bus was out of sight. I could not help it and followed suit. That was until i found his name card in my pocket.
That day, i had met a very special person. I guess that was why he was a counselor, the youth must have loved him. The brief encounter had left something in me. Something that was more than that warm fuzzy feeling. Maybe i would find that guy again and ask him.
Now i know why it sounds so… ‘wrong’. It could’ve been worse if i’d stated the gender of the character narrating as “I”.
What do you think it should be?
Please be kind to R&R~
A/N: When i was writing this, the guy in my head was Lawliet. Have i made a good ‘replica’ of him? Rather suspenseful, another two to five hours into this and it could’ve turned out into romance, action, mystery and gore. Shoutout to my awesome mind, haha.
I think i am going crazy from the stress. Imma heading off to study.