I had a secret that I had never told anyone before. I had a phobia of public speaking. Whenever I needed to stand up in class to answer a question, my mind would go blank. My cheeks would burn and the hair on my neck would bristle upright. I would often wish that the floor would open up and gobble me alive. Little did I know that my world was about to turn topsy-turvy very soon.
The school gave a loud melodic chant which signaled the end of one lesson and the beginning of the next one. My teacher, Mrs Fonseca, marched into the class feeling as fresh as a daisy. Her floral dress swirled as her stilettos gave a soft clickety-clack sound. The class which was as noisy as a gaggle of geese immediately became as silent as a tombstone. No one had ever dared to incur the wrath of Mrs Fonseca. It would be worse than drinking the deadliest poison.
Mrs Fonseca’s eyes zoomed in on me. She flashed a saccharine smile and spoke, “Yuting, you have been selected to participate in the inter-school story telling competition. If you win, you will get a lovely certificate and participate in the world championship. Every year, the contest will only issue one certificate to the top winner. It will be a magnificent achievement for you and the school as well. I’m sure you will try your best, won’t you?”
Upon hearing this, there was a pregnant pause. A wave of hopelessness engulfed me. Did I hear wrongly? Me? A contest? Why must it be me? Who wanted this certificate anyway?
“I… I… Could I… Erm?” I stammered. Mrs Fonseca’s stern look silenced me. My courage instantly deserted me.
“That settled it!” She smiled and proceeded to teach.
I stared into space and gulped down the stone in my throat. I went home with my head sagging low. Insomnia hit me night after night as I thought about the certificate. Wild imaginations raced through my mind. What if I lost? What if everyone laughed? I had no choice but practiced very hard. It was as if my life depended on it.
Practice, practice, practice.
Weeks flew. The D-day finally came. The auditorium was filled to the brim with students, teachers, principals and a panel of judges was right in front of the stage. Student after student went up the stage to rattle off their stories. They were all the cream of the crop.
I was the last contestant. My nails bit into my palms as I clenched my fist and waited. Fear prickled my forehead as my heart was pounding fast like a drill hammer. My teeth could not help chattering but my eyes were burning with determination to win. “It would be a magnificent achievement!” Mrs Fonseca’s words kept on ringing in my ears.
It was finally my turn. I took a deep breath and marched to the stage, trying to look like a zesty soldier. My tale was about how a soldier had managed to save the lives of his comrades during the war. Hundreds of eyes were boring into me. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach but I pressed on. Relief inundated me when I finished reciting my story.
After waiting for what had seemed like eternity, it was now the moment of truth. I wanted to flee but my legs were frozen. “And the winner is … Cheng Yuting!” the speakers boomed.
I could not believe my ears! Thunderous applause ricocheted rapturously off the walls. I was the winner! Joy gleamed on my brown eyes and a mega-watt smile plastered on my face. I strutted up the stage to receive my prized certificate. Pride swelled my heart. It was definitely an awesome achievement for me and my school!
The school gave a loud melodic chant which signaled the end of one lesson and the beginning of the next one. My teacher, Mrs Fonseca, marched into the class feeling as fresh as a daisy. Her floral dress swirled as her stilettos gave a soft clickety-clack sound. The class which was as noisy as a gaggle of geese immediately became as silent as a tombstone. No one had ever dared to incur the wrath of Mrs Fonseca. It would be worse than drinking the deadliest poison.
Mrs Fonseca’s eyes zoomed in on me. She flashed a saccharine smile and spoke, “Yuting, you have been selected to participate in the inter-school story telling competition. If you win, you will get a lovely certificate and participate in the world championship. Every year, the contest will only issue one certificate to the top winner. It will be a magnificent achievement for you and the school as well. I’m sure you will try your best, won’t you?”
Upon hearing this, there was a pregnant pause. A wave of hopelessness engulfed me. Did I hear wrongly? Me? A contest? Why must it be me? Who wanted this certificate anyway?
“I… I… Could I… Erm?” I stammered. Mrs Fonseca’s stern look silenced me. My courage instantly deserted me.
“That settled it!” She smiled and proceeded to teach.
I stared into space and gulped down the stone in my throat. I went home with my head sagging low. Insomnia hit me night after night as I thought about the certificate. Wild imaginations raced through my mind. What if I lost? What if everyone laughed? I had no choice but practiced very hard. It was as if my life depended on it.
Practice, practice, practice.
Weeks flew. The D-day finally came. The auditorium was filled to the brim with students, teachers, principals and a panel of judges was right in front of the stage. Student after student went up the stage to rattle off their stories. They were all the cream of the crop.
I was the last contestant. My nails bit into my palms as I clenched my fist and waited. Fear prickled my forehead as my heart was pounding fast like a drill hammer. My teeth could not help chattering but my eyes were burning with determination to win. “It would be a magnificent achievement!” Mrs Fonseca’s words kept on ringing in my ears.
It was finally my turn. I took a deep breath and marched to the stage, trying to look like a zesty soldier. My tale was about how a soldier had managed to save the lives of his comrades during the war. Hundreds of eyes were boring into me. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach but I pressed on. Relief inundated me when I finished reciting my story.
After waiting for what had seemed like eternity, it was now the moment of truth. I wanted to flee but my legs were frozen. “And the winner is … Cheng Yuting!” the speakers boomed.
I could not believe my ears! Thunderous applause ricocheted rapturously off the walls. I was the winner! Joy gleamed on my brown eyes and a mega-watt smile plastered on my face. I strutted up the stage to receive my prized certificate. Pride swelled my heart. It was definitely an awesome achievement for me and my school!
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