Essay by YiLeiTJunior High, 8th gradeA+, September 2006

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I walked up my childhood acquainted winding stairs in the lighthouse. It had been thirty years since I had left my beloved home to go overseas. Up and up I went before I came across the same old black door, which had remained the same except that some paint had worn off. I attempted to push open the door, and surprisingly, I succeeded. "Strange, Mum had never left the door opened."

As I murmured to myself, the door creaked open as the black and white old fashioned squarish floor tiles peered into view. Laid before my eyes, was the neat living room, with nicely framed family photos hung on the wall. Below one of them, were my mum's best clothes. Viewing myself through the mirror on the door, I inadvertently tripped over a soft lumpy object, which turned out to be my pet dog, who grew from a weak but adorable puppy to a strong and handsome dog over the years.

Just as I was observing the house, a plump, red-haired old woman, unmistakably my mum, stumped out of the kitchen. "Mum!" I shouted. "YOUR MUM? I never had a lunatic like you as a son. Look! Long, messy and greasy hair, long nails..." Although she continued bellowing at the top of her voice, I ignored what she was saying, for the first and yet, the last time. I could not accept the fact that she could not recognize me, her own son, anymore.

"BURGLAR!" My mum shouted suddenly. Dashing out of the door, I unpremeditatedly tripped over the stairs, and rolled down the stairs without any control. "Bang!" I crashed onto a sharp edge of the wall. Blood and tears tickled down my face, while I heard a peaceful music echoing in my ears before everything in front of...