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My Third Year of Junior High School |
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As a third-year junior high school student, my school bag has transformed into a
large travel-style backpack, carrying a stack of materials, test papers, and
textbooks that feel as heavy as a ton of steel. It's suffocating, and the
pressure feels even greater than preparing for college entrance exams.
Gone are the days when I was the crazy girl who dominated the class, the
happy-go-lucky one who everyone knew could dance, sing, and run.
One day, feeling exhausted from studying, I picked up a cassette tape to listen
to a relaxing song. But just as I was about to play it, my mother appeared out
of nowhere and pointed to an English language cassette tape nearby, saying,
"Listen to this instead." Later, when she found out I wanted to listen to music,
she looked anxious and said, "It's almost the third year of junior high school."
On Sundays (even though I technically don't have any), I hear the sound of the
TV drama playing in my neighbor's house, making me restless. Eventually, I
succumb to the temptation and listen to the TV. At that moment, my dad shows me
a countdown timer made of cardboard, with a pointer that can be moved to show
how many days are left until the final exam. He hangs it up in the most
prominent place. I am in awe of my father's creativity and how he thinks outside
the box for the third year of junior high school.
My mother, who usually practices frugality in her meals, suddenly starts to
create nutritious recipes. Even my usually quiet father has become talkative,
and even our strict class teacher has become gentle, saying things like "Don't
stay up too late when you go home, get some rest," which moves us to tears.
I finally understand that the third year of junior high school is like a strong
drink that excites and arouses passion, a refreshing and heartwarming fruit
juice, a strange bean with a variety of flavors, and above all, it's full of
hope and the final push. |
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