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Eileen
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« vào lúc: 22 Tháng Tám 2010, 02:09:46 AM » |
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Everybody says the first impression is crucially important, which decides most of what people think about a person. I totally agreed with this until a person came into my life three years ago.
I met him for the first time in the entrance examination of Foreign Language Specialising School. That moment, I associated him with one member of the Davy Jones’ Crew in the Flying Dutch-the ghost ship in “ Pirates of the Caribbean” with badly sunburned skin, the bent gait and a shabby appearance. He performed the most invidious and ridiculous laugh and gestures that I had ever seen. Moreover, he was fond of teasing girls around, which was rude. So as human nature, I was under a very bad impression of him. Accidentally, that awkward boy and I was put in the same class, which I found so uncomfortable and the bad impression seemed to become a fright and a disgust. So I barely talked to him and tried to get him out of my sight, I thought he would be the last guy I would want to sit with in the class. Unfortunately my biggest fear came true: MY FORMER TEACHER MOVED HIM NEXT TO MY SEAT. Right as soon as I heard her claim, I ran to the girls’ WC and burst into tears. I was crying and shouting in there during the break time and was five minutes late for class. “What would I supposed to do?” All that I could think of is playing truant for several days till my mother could persuade my teacher to change her mind. Instead of that, I walked slowly into the classroom, my red face and eyes filled with tears, my whole body was trembling. Then I stopped midway to my seat, glaring at him furiously. The whole class was completely silent, the atmosphere was heavy and stressful. I saw him sitting next to my seat, his face revealed hurt and embarrassment. Fortunately, my former teacher made sense of what was happening, and told him to exchange his seat for another. That was all I wanted, feeling relief and pleased, I came back to my seat with a smile on my lips.
The following day, his best friend told me how much he was hurt, that he did not say or eat anything all day long. But I could not care less, “poor him”-I thought. My days went by perfectly. A month later, my class went to the theatre together by bus, some whose houses were handy used their bikes. After the movie, we stood at the bus stop and chatted merrily. Abruptly my mother called, I answered the phone and when I turned around, the bus was gone with all my friends in there. So I was alone and disorientated on a crowded street. It was so far from my house and I could not get on the bus alone, I tried to call my mother but my phone was out of batteries. I was scared and panic.Then suddenly I heard someone call my name, and as I turned around, I found him waving at me beside his bike. Like a child, I ran toward him happily and let him ride me home. It was a 10-kilometer way, and he was silent, just rode patiently and miserably. He sweat buckets all over his shirt, so I suggested that I could walk home since it was getting nearer then, but he insisted on taking me to my house. So difficult it was but I started first by saying thank to him, and giving comments on the movie. After a few minutes, he began to be more open and talked with me. I realised he was not that execrable but very interesting, wished that I had had chance to be his table mate as I almost had.
Though we had a really good time that day, it was not easy to erase the pain that I caused in his heart, he was still a bit shy and reserved. It took us months to become truely best friends of each other. It’s amazing that we share a lot of interest and opinions, especially being crazy fans of German National team. Perfect as our friendship is, I will never forgive my self for the way I treated him on the early days, and also the way I judged people by their appearance.
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