Abigail Tan's Creative Writing Task 3 (1)

MOBY DICK

Creative Writing Task 3

                 When I was a child, I well remember when I detested vegetables. I told my mother I needed to answer the call of nature. I took my plate of greens and trotted to the bathroom, where, with a mischievous grin, I flushed them down the toilet bowl. I washed my hands to pretend I had finished performing my ablutions and carried the plate out happily.

                 All of a sudden, my mother revealed that she needed to use the toilet as well. When she emerged, she glared piercingly at me. "What are the green things in the toilet bowl?" I gasped and put on my sad puppy face, producing crocodile tears. I even got down on my knees to beg for forgiveness and no punishment. "Please don't send me to my room...." My mother fumed and pointed to my room without saying anything.

                I dragged myself across the hall towards my room, walking as slow as a tortoise. As I entered my painted pink room, complete with pink curtains and a bed, I pulled out a book to read to kill time. Afraid that I would get caught, I heaved a contented sigh and finally lay down on my bed. At two in the afternoon, my eyelids fluttered shut. 

                I opened my eyes. A wave of pitch black darkness greeted me. There was a pin drop silence. Suddenly, I heard the door creaked open. It shut just as quickly as it opened. Someone - or something - grasped my shoulder. I lay rooted on the spot with bated breath. Whoever or whatever it was was giving me something relaxing, almost like a massage. With the comforting and soothing massage, my eyelids shut once again. 

                Waking up the next morning, I wondered about the previous night. Who gave me the relaxation I needed to chase away my troubles? How did it know that was the cure? The thought of the feeling of the massage gave me goosebumps all over again. Till today, the person's identity is still a mystery.