It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.

-Wisdom of Confucius

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Saturday, 15 December 2012

Running Away

Running Away

                                                                                                                        

There once was a 9-year-old girl named Becky. She had big blue eyes and always keeps her hair in a frizzy braid. You can tell that she’s a girl who doesn’t like problems. Her best friend Rosella was one of the plain girls, who aren’t afraid of anything. When there is a problem, Becky would run to her bedroom and cry on her bed. When there is an event at school, which she dislikes, she ditches that day. When there is a big storm in winter, she also stays home and bawls. Sometimes, when she has to wash the nasty, horrible dishes, she’d fly straight to her trusty room. Rosella keeps telling her to face problems head on. She once made Becky understand– once.
She was quite pleased with her work. However, when Becky cried because her mom wouldn’t buy her a pussycat, Rosella gave up. After a while, Becky thought, Hey! Always running away works! So when she had to rake leaves, she cried. “Time for bed?” “No!!” When she couldn’t fix her hair one day, she cried for hours.

After years, it became a habit. At school, some time in spring, Rosella said, “Becky, stop! Running away won’t solve anything! You have to just face-it! Don’t be the scaredy-cat that you are!” Becky, after hearing that, scrunched up her face, and had a meltdown. Rosella sighed then left.

One day at noon, Becky’s mom came to pick Becky up. Everything was a rush and a minute later, she was at the hospital. “Father!” she gasped, seeing her dad’s dead body. “He died from a stroke!” wailed her mom. Becky didn’t – couldn’t believe her beady, swollen eyes. She ran all the way home, locked herself in her room, and began weeping. Once in a while, she would call for her dad, still not believing herself. On the fifth night, she stopped. Yes, it was a sad event, her dad just passed away. But the fact was that he was dead. No way around that. She cleared her tear-stained face, went downstairs and lived like usual with her mom. From then on, she never ran to her bedroom to cry again.


THE END

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