I've read the Taiwanese manga, Half Prince recently, and I'm fascinated by the story. It's funny that sometimes I would like to be a boy like Feng Lan too. The manga inspired me to write this story, which has some of my life experiences. I write it just to let my feelings out. Hope everyone who reads it can give a comment or two. =)
The alarm clock, though small, rang as loud as a lion's roar. My eyes were not open yet, but I was not deaf. Irritated by the shrilling sound, I quickly pushed the clock violently from the desk. Tuk!
"Mei Ling!" My mother shouted from the kitchen, "This is the sixteenth time you broke it!"
I rubbed my eyes and slowly dropped my feet onto the cold floor. My sleepy eyes took a 360-degree look around the room and finally stopped at the damaged clock. Its condition was already very critical that it could not simply be repaired anymore. Sighing regretfully, I picked it up and tossed it to the dustbin near my bed.
"I'm sorry, Mom," I was scratching my head, yawning at the same time, "Next time, I'll wear a watch."
My mother's reddened face faded slightly, "You break everything that I buy for you, Mei Ling. Even your brother is gentler than you. Sometimes I'm not quite sure that I have a daughter."
I took my seat next to my brother, who was already munching on an apple, his bright hazel eyes fixed on the game magazine. Next to his plate of sausages and eggs was his beloved MP3 player, which was bought three years ago, yet it looked as brand new as it could be.
Whereas, my two-day-old clock…I had no words.
"Good morning, Feng," I greeted my brother, whose eyes still glued to his boring-looking magazine.
I poked the sausage and dumped it into my mouth hungrily. With my mouth full, I tried to start a conversation.
"What're you reading, bro?"
"Mei Ling, don't talk with your mouth full!"
"Sorry, Mom!" I spoke half-consciously, while my mind was still analyzing my brother's precious monthly-updated magazine, "Come on, bro! Tell me, what is it?"
Feng's lips remained tight. He gently shook the magazine in my direction, his fore finger pointing at the large, attractive title on the front page. The mere words nearly covered the whole A4-sized page of the magazine.
Before I could open my mouth to ask further, my mother snatched the book away from my brother's hands. He gave her a silent frown.
"Now it's the time to eat, not to read," Mom placed the magazine under her sweaty armpit, which I was sure it smelt like a rotten egg, "And you, Mei Ling, did you forget to wear your bra?"
My eyes widened. I looked at my chest and realized that I forgot about my bra. Feeling embarrassed, I stood up and strolled lazily to my room.
How I wished to be a boy…
I can break things, talk and spit food out at the same time, and don't have to wear a bra.
Is that even possible?