Tuesday 17 February 2015

WF: Not Overwriting WI: Make the reader feel empathy for both the girls





“And that is why we thank our ancestors for fighting in world war two, any questions class?”
“No, OK then I guess it’s home time, and have a good holiday everyone”
I have never been able to explain the rush of students at the end of a school year. How you try to embrace yourself but it never works, you still get paralyzed in the crowd.
“Alice, is that you” I turn around, “Aanjay”. She’s my best friend. Ever since I moved here from California with my father, I have been isolated, no one will speak to me. In their eyes I’m an overdressed glittery American teenager that takes everything for granted. But about a week after I started Tiga Pancur Intermediate, Aanjay was keen to know about my home back in California and my school, friends and whatever else she could think of.
So we became friends.

As we leave the school gates behind us, Aanjay and I start to discuss our plans for the summer. We want to go camping, hiking and especially go to the mud pools. This will be my last summer here in Indonesia as my dad is getting transferred again, back to America. I know I’ll miss Aanjay but dad’s promised that she can come and stay during the holidays. Aanjay is the best friend I've ever had, she understands me for who I am and she isn't like all the spoiled rotten kids back home.
Even though we live at opposite ends of our village (Kara) we still manage to get together during the weekend. Aanjay lives at the base of mount Sinabung and I live on the hilltop facing mount Sinabung.

“Alice, the phones for you”
I race downstairs as my dad calls out.
“Thanks Dad”. I grab the phone
“Hello?”
“Hey Alice its me”
“Oh, hi Aanjay”
“Look, tonight I’m going camping, up mount Sinabung do you wanna come?”
“Uh” I hesitated. “Sorry Aanjay, dad said that he’d take me to the noodle bar tonight, you can come if you want”
“Oh, no thanks Alice, but I’ll call you in the morning”
“Bye”
“Bye”

It’s the moment of realization the gets you. I felt it the moment dad called to tell me how mum had died in 9/11. Then the moment as you watch the scenes on TV with tears streaming down your face.
This is how I felt this morning when I woke up to the eruption of Mt Sinabung.

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