Can you believe it's almost July? Where has the time gone...I found an old memoir I wrote for an English assignment almost a year ago, and thought it would be fun to share on my blog. Enjoy!
The ground crunched underfoot. The cold wind grabbed at my long hair, dragging me back. I heard an unfamiliar bird call, sending shivers down my spine. I turned around to see Ai and Anishka, my classmates, equally spooked, and we huddled together as we walked across the neglected dirt path.
Tioman’s clear sky, sparkling sea and glistening sands made it a tropical paradise during the day, but at night, the jungles were dark and eerie, as if the trees were concealing secrets of their own. We only had one mission––to conquer the memory line. Did it seem easy? Yes. But in reality, it wasn’t.
The memory line is a piece of rope that meanders through the jungle, twisting and turning like a serpent emerging from the depths. Random items were strung intermittently across the rope, and our mission was to try to recall what items we found along the trail.
Thirty minutes ago, we were in a clearing, surrounded by trees. I remember the confident way the head counsellor, Jack, informed us of our mission. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. See? It’s just trees and bushes. So peaceful and relaxing!” He reassured us, using the same tone of voice you would to an insecure toddler. Relaxing? I can’t do this. I was about to faint from fear. All around, our class were chatting and trying to frighten each other with scary stories.
I was not an adventurous type. While others were playing soccer and kayaking and bungee jumping, I would be reading and baking. When my friends all went hiking and camping, I would be writing short stories at home. I could not do this. I was not brave enough.
Ai, Anishka and I were afraid of the dark, afraid to venture into the unknown forest without an adult. Why did we leave the safety of our cabins and teachers? Why do we have to walk into the deep dark woods? I could nearly hear Ai’s and Anishka’s thoughts echoing mine.
My heart pounded with every step I took further towards the heart of the jungle. Now, about twenty meters into the depths of the jungle, we could no longer see the rest of our class and had nearly completely lost our bearings. Clutching onto the rope like a lifeline, we plunged our way into the jungle. “What if we get lost? I really don’t want to spend the night here.” Anishka whimpered. We don’t either. I’m not brave. I thought. It was as if we were stuck in the middle of the ocean, nothing but an eternal expanse of darkness as far as the eye could see. Like a sailor stranded at sea, I desperately looked for a lighthouse but found none.
We spotted an object dangling from the rope in the distance. Under closer examination, we found out that it was a brush. “That’s one item we’ve found.” I tried to sound encouraging but could not hide my grimace. Why are we doing this? We could have been roasting marshmallows over a campfire, or playing a game of flashlight tag, or even just relaxing in our cabin playing truth or dare, but why trekking through the woods a night?
Suddenly, the bush next to us rustled. My imagination ran wild, as I thought off all the possible creatures lurking in the deep dark woods. It turned out the noise in the bush was only a squirrel. Anishka was close to tears. Continuing along, we found a beach ball, a teddy bear and a pair of socks. “Brush, ball, bear, socks. Brush, ball, bear, socks. Brush, ball, bear…” We chanted, attempting to remember the items that we had seen on the trail. It helped to take our mind off the jungle and distracts us from the wild undergrowth.
It’s now been ten minutes since we left the safety of our class. We no longer knew where we were in the jungle. Are we near the end? Did we just walk in one big circle? What if we are lost? My active imagination led me into a panic. A branch snagged in my hair, wrapping itself in long black strands, and I squawked, untangling myself in a frenzy. We made our way through the labyrinth of cobwebs.
Abruptly, the line stopped. There was no more rope to guide the way. I looked at Ai, and I noticed the way she was tapping her Converse, which is a habit when she is distressed. Anishka bit her lip and was still holding on tight to the end of the rope as if she could miraculously will the rest of the rope back into existence. Should we turn back? Should we wait here? We were in doubt. Come on! Please let this just be a bad dream.
I tensely fingered the rope, skimming my finger over the crinkles and creases, toying with a few loose strands. “Are we… lost?” Ai’s speech faltered, as she turned her head to look back at the way we had come from. “What if they can’t find us?!” Anishka whimpered. “They will. Don’t worry.” I tried to sound brave and encouraging, like a leader, but even I was doubting my words. I glanced down at my knuckles, all white from gripping the rope tightly. The forest was eerily quiet, except for the quiet hum of crickets. Every little noise set off a warning bell in my head. It had been too long since we left the clearing. A shadow emerged, slowly lengthening under the glare from my headlight, as I gazed up in fear. It was our camp counsellor, Max!
He led us through the forest, and we eventually managed to leave the jungle. Why did I panic? It was all in my head. On the trek back, I finally exhaled the breath I didn’t realise I had been holding. We were finally free! We made our way onto the big patch of sand and sat in the middle of the sand was my teacher, Ms Jansen. The three of us joined her lying down on the sand, staring up into the sky, and looking at the stars. I’ve never seen so many stars before, it’s always been too bright in Singapore to spot them properly.
I spotted a shooting star and made a wish. Ms Jansen pointed out fireflies in the distance. We waved as Max shuttled the next group of students back to us. What started off as one of the spookiest experiences of my life, ends up being a magical evening. Maybe the whole point of the trek was to push us past our comfort zones. Conquer our phobias. Even though I didn’t enjoy it, I know it showed a part of me I never even realised I had. I will never forget it.