Art Festival English Activity: Writing the Elements

Charles

Special thanks to Sean, Gareth and Yuhong))

I stared at the window. My eyes filled with emptiness.

Outside of the little cold and hard block, the world was functioning as normal as it has always been.

Cars beeping–no, I thought–roaring on the road; tree branches lowering their heads towards the ground; rain droplets falling from the high to the low.

As if…the world was crying or feeling sorrow.

Is it for me? I thought to myself.

Or to her?

I don’t know how long I've looked at the window.

Long enough that my eyes were painful and over-stretched.

But short enough that my heart was still empty.

I don’t know what I’m thinking about.

"The dinner is ready!" Mom called for the third time.

I sneezed to clear my nose. A deep sense of agony seemed to rebel my will, rising from the nose toward my brain.

I tried to make myself less upset by wiping my face heavily. It perhaps worked. When I stepped outside of my bedroom, the smell of hot food made my stomach groan willingly.

Perhaps that’s a sign of change.

I dragged my body onto the dining table, my family all looking quite cheerful.

They were meant to be. It’s Christmas Eve.

The cackling sound produced by the burning wood came into my ear. A sense of warmth surrounded me, and–yes–my arms felt warm.

"So…how were your days?" I almost forced my mouth to speak, while keeping my eyes stared at the table.

The aroma of food continued to invade my nose. They seemed to expect resistance. But I gave no reaction.

It was all silence. I looked up.

The face of cheer and happiness was still hanging on my family members’ faces. It was just too still.

"Hey, Gareth…how was your school? Was there a sort of…party?" I forced myself to speak again.

I don’t want silence. As if the emptiness would expose my tragedy. As if I would hide my tragedy underneath discussions and conversations.

But my brother just gave me a weird look:

"No."

Then he turned his head down and focused on the food.

His chewing sound is not very obvious. We have long been told that making sounds while eating is impolite and inappropriate. But the sound struck my heart.

It did sound impolite. I thought. It is jumping cheerfully on my tomb and claiming its victory.

"How about you, Dad, is everything okay?" I turned my head round.

Dad has always been a humorous person. He liked talking. He would respond indefinitely.

He nodded his head. It’s a really tiny amount of movement.

Then he opened his mouth as if there is a tendency to do so. His favorite behavior, his most advanced behavior.

"It’s…alright. We ended working early because it’s Eve. How about you?"

"I am…I am fine! More than fine!" I answered immediately without any hesitation.

Dad raised his eyes.

Our eyes met in the middle of the table. I couldn’t see anything in his eyes.

I am not sure about mine.

So I lowered my head to eat. Nothing had happened.

Nothing happened either, during the rest of the dinner.

I slammed my utensils onto the table and buried my head beneath it.

Then, suddenly, I jerked my head up and clawed at my hair. Tears spilled from my eyes.

"I told you I'm fine! I'm doing fine! Why are you all looking at me like that?!"

I rushed into my room and slammed the door shut behind me. Then I curled up on my bed.

A moment later, Dad gently pushed the door open. He sat down beside the bed without making a sound.

He patted my shoulder.

"Alright, alright. You're a grown man—what's there to cry about? Things like this aren't worth dwelling on. Go do something else. You can't keep thinking about it all the time. What's done is done. There'll be other chances. You can't hold onto this forever."

I said nothing.

Dad gave me two more pats on the shoulder, then stood up, walked out of the room, and quietly closed the door behind him.

I stared at the door.

The rain droplet’s noise stopped. The window was clear again.

I was out on my own.

No one stands beside me. I don’t want anyone to do so.

My heart still felt empty.

But I no longer felt sad or annoyed.

Just calm.

The sound made by tapping my foot in the small ponds tinkling around my ears, a nice feeling hung around me.

The air after raining smelled natural and vibrant.

The air after raining has always been calm and tranquil.

In the furthest sky, the sun climbed out from the cloud.

TypeTheory

还有英语环节