The Foster House

So,this is a lil sumthing i wrote for a story-writing competition... i didnt win =P but its a good read i hope...


It was nice and breezy that day when I walked home from school. My school life has officially ended. No more hanging out with my best pals during breaks, no more bunking classes together, no more last-minute revising during exams. I’ve always loved my school life. I had great friends, great marks (which I hope to continue achieving), and a great life overall. All I have now is a 5 months long holiday before I set my foot in college. Ordinarily, I would love nothing more than a long holiday filled with getting up late, loads of shopping spree and dining out every day. Not this time, though. I was not going to waste my time doing something I can do during the weekends. I wanted to go for something more meaningful. Not realizing how fast the time flew, I reached my house and pushed open the door. My mom greeted me with her usual loving smile and asked me whether I had enjoyed the last day of school. I quickly freshened up and went to the dining table. My dad had just gotten back from his office. My awfully annoying but adorable brother was talking my dad into buying him a PS 3. Mom finally served lunch. We heard nothing but the sounds of silverwares for a few minutes. Finally my dad told me, “Lauren, I know a great thing you could do during your holidays”. I raised my head in enthusiasm, as if asking him to continue his words. And his answer was, “You could do some volunteer work at the foster house.” I choked at my half-chewed lasagna and quickly swallowed some water. “Dad”, I exclaimed, “I want to do something meaningful, but not something that can put me into a deep slumber!” My dad chided me for my negative behavior and told me why he thought it was a good idea. The foster house was a place where they look after abandoned senior citizens. The voluntary workers would be doing simple jobs like entertaining them, just listening to their talks, bring them their tea and stuffs like that. After listening to my dad’s words, I still thought it was going to be a drag. After finishing my lunch, I excused myself from the dining hall and went straight up to my room. I picked up a picture of my two best friends. Emily was going to teach English at her mom’s orphanage. Rachel, my other best friend have plans of joining a charity bazaar. And then, it struck me. My two best friends are about to do something that they might not love, but they are still going through with it. Here I am, just sitting idle trying to think of something for me! Why should I think only about my interests? All right, I’m doing this foster house thing. I made up my mind and rushed down to tell my dad the good news.
The next morning, when I was walking to the foster house, I kept thinking whether I had made the right decision. As I reached, I entered the small but neat place. There was no turning back now. A lady was sweeping the floor. She smiled pleasantly and told me that I’ve been assigned to an old man in room number 3. I entered that room and saw him sitting by his window. He looked very sad. I greeted him pleasantly and was relieved to see that he was glad to see me. His name was Mr. Robert. I sat, not knowing what to do. I guess he could see my awkwardness and started to talk to me. I told him about me, my family and how I loved school. I also told him about my best friends and what all we did together. Realizing that I was supposed to entertain him, I started asking about him. He looked a bit sad, but didn’t hesitate speaking. He spent the last five years here, after his wife died. His children didn’t seem to have time for him, so he ended up in the foster house. He had two children, named Kevin and Kenny, and they are both happily married with a steady career. Mr. Robert let a tear flow out when he said he missed his children. He was so sweet and courteous I wondered why would anyone abandon such a nice man? We talked for a few hours when I realize that it was dark and I had to go. He looked a little disappointed and asked me whether I was coming back. Perhaps he didn’t like being alone. I made a promise to him that I would return. At home, I told my family about him and they felt sorry for him. I told my family that I want to do this for Mr. Robert as much as I possibly can. Ever since that day, I felt that more than obligation, it was fun that brought me to the foster house. We found each other’s company delectable. He was the one I came to if I had a small fight back home. He would make me laugh about it, and then we’d spend some time playing board games. For an old man, Mr. Robert was extremely sharp; I hardly won anything, except during the times when he deliberately let me win. I would ask his advice on which major to select in college, and he would tell me to follow my heart. He told me stories about his childhood and how life used to be easy for him. Sometimes, I brought my portable DVD player and we would watch all kinds of movies together. I would tell him about my crushes, my heartbreaks and everything I couldn’t seem to share with my parents. One day, I even took him out to the park as I knew how uneasy it felt to be in the foster house all day. I didn’t realize that it was two months since I met him. Over those two months, he had become my best friend. I talked about him to my family all the time and they were glad I was making the best use of my time. I rued the times when it prevented me from going to visit him. He even told me that I was the daughter he never had. He showed me his old silver locket, which had a small pendant the shape of a question-mark. His late wife gave it to him, as a sign of the unquestionable love they share. I thought about how painful it was for Mr. Robert when he lost his wife. I walked home that day with a new perception of my family. I thanked God that I haven’t yet lost any of my loved ones.

The next day, I went to the foster house as usual. Today, I brought him his favorite flower, lavender. I noticed that it was more crowded then usual. The lady who was sweeping that day was in tears. Nobody noticed that I was there so I straightaway went to Mr. Robert’s room and the sight of the room made the world stopped rotating. The caretaker of the foster house was covering Mr. Robert’s face with a white cloth. He was gone for good. I ran out of the room as I couldn’t take the sight of it. I sat on the doorstep and cried uncontrollably. He was really gone… I must have cried for a few minutes and a man sat next to me and introduced him as Kenny, one of Mr. Robert’s sons. He thanked me for being with his father during his last few days. Kenny told me that he regretted not being with his father but it was too late now. Kenny also said that his father had not died from any sickness, but merely due to old age. He was 75. Kenny then reached for his pocket and took out the locket which belonged to her father. Kenny handed it over to me and told me that during Mr. Robert’s last breaths, he told Kenny that he wanted me have the locket. It really touched me that my dried eyes started to fill up again…

The next day, my family and I attended his funeral. I didn’t want to go at first as it would be too painful but then I realized that it would be my last time to pay my tribute to him. I saw his second son Kevin and I noticed that he looked a lot like his father. Not many people were present, but at least his two sons made it. Mr. Robert would be happy. I am always going to look back at these last days as few of the best days of my life. I thanked God for making me succeed in making my holidays meaningful. This may not have been a great thing that I did, but being with someone and making him happy during his last few days, is something heroic for me… I’ll always remember Mr. Robert, as my guide, my mentor, and most importantly, my best friend…