Following up on the previous post on essay trends, the below presents an attempt on a (partial) hybrid essay containing elements of ‘personal recount’ and a reflection conclusion.
They say experience is a hard and painful teacher. I went through that first hand last year…
It was a night out with my classmates in the second week of the year-end holidays. We had grown and gelled in the eleven months, from strangers to friends; and some even became close buddies. My own initial discomfort was overcome by their comical jokes and the common bond in face of the recurrent tests and examinations. They had accepted me into their fold in spite of my taciturn shyness. Sadly, most of us would spend the next year in different classes having selected our preferred humanities and science combinations. Not wanting to think about that, we tried to spend as much time together before the actual split.
So that night we picked a movie to watch… (Description of the movie and the experience) Though the film fell flat and disappointed, our spirits were hardly dampened. As the night was still young, Ahmad proposed that we headed to the arcade. We dived headlong into action. The group of us streamed into the arcade and topped up the game cards. Eagerly, we headed out to the First Person Shooter game, or the tennis player, while I made a beeline for the fighting games. Recalling it now, it seems things went in slow motion as I put my wallet right on the controller panel. I was full on into battling my ‘live’ opponent sitting opposite me. Unfortunately, after three rounds I made no headway. After one lost match, I felt something pushing against my shoulder, I turned to look but it just happened to be someone who nearly fell. Without much thought I went back to my game with more than a hint of desperation to beat my opponent. I gave up after ten minutes. As I stood up, I felt something was missing… Then it hit me – my wallet was gone.
My heart sank.
I remembered that my Identification Card and the whole week of allowance was in it. At that moment emotions raced through my head until Rajoo caught up with me. The others then offered to look around, unfortunately, to no avail. It was gone without a trace. Resigned, I trudged ever so reluctantly to the nearby Police Centre… (Description of loss reporting)
Although my parents did not give me a good telling off, I truly felt bad about the incident. Upon reflection, I thought it best to have constant sight of my wallet and mobile phone. Most of time, I put them in my front pockets. Maybe that explains why my trousers have such deep ones. On a more serious note, I remind others to keep their personal belongings on them. In doing so I hope to protect them from the hard, and rather painful teaching which experience gave me.
By: CWL, Jan 2017