Several years ago, when I was in P1 my friend had died. At the time, I hadn’t yet grasped this concept of death, nort had I completely understood what my parents meant when they said that she would never come back to school again. Then came her memorial, the day where it all made sense to me. It was the first time that I cried in a public place.

It was like any other chapel, but something was off. The teachers had an empty look on their faces as they shuffled us into the theatre. Whispers flooded the chapel:, 

“Where’s Tiffany?” 

“I bet she skipped school again.” 

“I heard she was sick.” 

The adults in the room shushed us with a finger over pursed lips. Soon enough there was a wave of sound “shhhhh” as all the kids shushed each other, relaying the teachers’ orders. The principal walkeds up to the center of the stage, and gave three quick taps to test the microphone. Tap, the sound rangrings out, echoing around the theatre. Tap, the chapel goes quiet. Tap. The low buzz of the microphone is all that’s left. The kids look around at each other with confused looks. A picture goes up on the screen, a picture of Tiffany. A gloomy song blares from the speakers, I see Tiffany’s parents, each with a box of tissues. “Unfortunately, one of our students hashave passed away due to heart disease.” I watched the screen intently, trying to understand what had just happened. All around me voices whispered. “Today we will be honoring the memory of Tiffany.” Suddenly voices started getting louder, yet I continued to stare at the screen. 

“A daughter.” the voices begin to fade. “A student.” The room begins to fade. “A friend.” All my focus is diverted to the man speaking. A single tear streams down my face as I say a silent prayer. A prayer for her family, a prayer for her friends, and a prayer for her. I look up at my teacher;, she’s dabbing her eyes with a damp tissue, her lips quivered as a steady stream of mascara mixed with tears escaped her reddened eyes. 

It was like any other day at school, but something was off. “I can’t believe Tiffany’s gone…” I watched our homeroom teacher takes out a frame, set a photo in it, and hang it up on the wall. A million memories escaped my head, there was but one that had remained. The day we took that picture, with large smiles on our face, that childish innocence, that soon would be taken away.

Reflection:

This essay was a more, solemn essay. I wrote about a time a while back when I was in Primary school. I had a Best friends named Tiffany, and all of a sudden, one day she had died. I didn’t know about her sickness, and her death really came as a surprise to me. When My parents told me about here death, I didn’t really understand either, so in reality, even after a while I never understood what happened to her. This is an essay highlighting my experience in the chapel where they talked about her death.