People think I'm strong but really, underneath this shell lies two very different personalities. Ever wondered why you could never figure me out? That's because you're not seeing the two personalities as being separate from each other. One of them is tough, bitter, disillusioned, swears, and doesn't want anything to do with insufferable bloody idiots; The other one is innocent, forever hopeful, idealistic, loves fairytales and looks forward to finding the perfect man. Both of them know that the perfect man is: 1) NOT an idiot. 2) Enjoys and appreciates their sense of humour. 3) Can handle her mood swings. 4) Able to keep up with her or, better yet, be one step ahead of her sometimes.

Ben_Romans Kellie Bao_Ling Agnes Pei_Shi Joakim Jayne Zine Lee_Peng Spelling June Xi_Xi Jessica Min_Shen Lippy Jun_Yin

It's been such a hot and dry week that I thought I would die from the oppressive heat. But as I type these words, it seems that the "drought" is going to end soon. The sky is an odd, greyish white. A few drops of moisture venture from the sparse clouds above. Apparently, the sky is being rather reluctant to part with its rain drops for it has been dark for nearly an hour yet there is little sign of the heavy rainfall that everyone is so looking forward to, except for the miserable drips that couldn't be considered rain by any stretch of the imagination and the constant rumbling of thunder.
The rain comes finally, the air is filled with the smell of ozone. Invigorating. The rain drops are coming quickly now, wetting the ground, changing the light grey of the cement ground into a dark, moist grey. I inhale deeply, savoring the aroma that is unique to rain. It's been such a long time that I've nearly forgotten how it's like to just stand under the sky and let the raindrops beat on my face. The sensation is relaxing, I feel all the tension being washed out of me as I gaze upwards at the misty grey canvas.
The memories are coming back to me now... I had been out on a morning walk with my dad when he revealed to me, for the first time, the very last thing my mom had said to him. A sob escaped from my throat. How could I ever forgive myself? She had wanted to see me but I never knew it until now. My mom never got to see me one last time. What kind of daughter am I?
The rain fused with the tears streaming down my face. If only lightning would strike me, then I could go apologize to Mom personally... Make it up to her and hope she'll still love me.
The rain is stopping now.
I close my eyes and for a childish moment, I imagine that Mom was still alive and would tell me off for standing in the rain. She would order me to get into the house and change into dry clothing immediately. But she is not alive. And when I open my eyes, all I see is the family car, parked in front of the house...