When I woke up, I felt pains all over. A pool of sticky blood surrounded my head. I lay trapped in the bottom of n smooth-walled pit (坑) with an empty water bottle.

I thought of what had happened. I was climbing down the mountain as I was admiring the beautiful scenery. Accidentally. I stepped on a loose rock. Then I slipped, fell with the rock and got stuck somewhere below the top. It was getting dark in the pit. Only my mother knew where I’d gone. I promised to have lunch with her. Thinking of this. I took my phone out and dialed her number with shaking fingers. No service. The silence, which earlier I’d valued, was now horrible.

With a sharp pain in my head, I was terrified. I knew I’d fallen far, but I wasn’t sure where I was. I called 911 because I knew by the pain that my back was severely injured, if not broken. My ear was torn badly. There was still no service. I dug through my bag to assess my supplies and found a whistle and some wipes.

I put the whistle around my neck and blew, though I knew no one would hear me. It was 1:15 pm and I was miles from the town where I lived. I used the wipes to clean off as much blood as I could. I rested. Then I screamed, blew my whistle, and let myself think the unthinkable. What if they can’t find me? What if this is it?

I decided to get moving. I climbed through a small opening, but when I peered over the next edge, my heart sank: there was a 30-foot drop. There was no way down. I was trapped.

I knew with that extreme Arizona heat in the day and bitter desert cold at night, I wouldn’t last long. But I thought my mother was sure to call the police for help if she couldn’t get in touch with me. With a little hope, I prayed the police would send a helicopter (直升机) to my resecu.

Around five hours later, a growing buzz (嗡嗡声) in the air broke the silence.

Though the pilot saw me, it was difficult for the team to get to me.

I was in 7th grade when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was very sudden and unexpected for our family and obviously I was beaten. I tried my best to balance my first year of middle school and my home life, even if I knew this was impossible. I hated coming home from school every day for fear of what I would see when I got home. I hated seeing my mom sick all the time; she was not herself and all I wanted was for her to stop treatment and get better. Luckily, I had lots of support from my family, friends, and teachers during this hard time to help get me through it.

At the beginning of the year, I was determined to stay on track with my homework and studying and get through my first year at middle school successfully. Slowly, I started to become more distracted while at home with taking care of my mom, cleaning the house and helping my grandma cook our meals. While I was at school, I could escape and put my mom’s sickness in the back of my mind while I hung out with my friends and enjoyed playing. I noticed that my quiz and test grades were increasingly getting worse, but I never brought this to the attention of my mom because I did not want to worry her. Eventually, all of my grades were lower than C’s.

I knew that I was not doing well at school, and I needed to get my grades back up. I knew that a lot of my teachers were cutting me some unimportant work because they knew what was happening at home. Ms. Zazoski, my English teacher was the most supportive teacher that I have ever had and I am so glad that I was in her class that year.

One day my teacher had me stay after school to have a talk with her.

That was the motivation that I needed to improve my grades.

Tom is a special child. Ever since he was little, dogs have been his greatest passion. He often growled (低吼) and barked and sometimes moved around the house on all fours. His parents brought in a little brown female dog named Lynn. Tom was on cloud nine. One day, this little boy, together with Lynn, was sitting quietly down by the side of the street when suddenly a giant dog walked across him. He was a little surprised and started screaming as loudly as he could! All of this frightened Lynn away immediately.

Tom’s parents tried to see what the chances were of Lynn coming home on her own. But five days later, there was still no sign of Lynn. The boy didn’t just have tears streaming down his cheeks — his parents were saddened too.

The woods behind their home stretched for over 50 miles! Together with their neighbors, they searched for over a month. But Lynn was gone. Tom’s parents wanted to choose a new puppy for him. But no dog could replace Lynn for him.

Tom was not the same boy. He locked himself in his room. He seemed to have lost his love for dogs. He could not focus his attention on his classes so he didn’t want to go to school. He would easily get angry with people around him. Tom changed from a happy, smiling boy to an upset and annoying kid.

Tom’s parents wanted him to stay home and he had been studying at home ever since. His parents accompanied him almost every day, but staying home didn’t help much. The boy’s mother worried a lot. One rainy afternoon, she saw him staring out the window. “I miss Lynn so much. I wonder if everything is okay with her?” It had been a long time since his beloved dog ran away, but Tom’s despair was as great as the day it happened. Days later, Tom walked out the front door with his head down and sat by the side of the street.

A huge brown dog crossed the street and stood in front of the crying boy.

Tom ran after Lynn and entered the woods.

When Emily was 16, she had a dream of becoming a professional singer, a dream that was as bright as the stars in the night sky. Emily’s parents, though supportive, often reminded her of the importance of her studies. This made Emily feel torn (为难) between her passion and her responsibilities

Each day, Emily trained herself for hours. She would sing in the mirror, imagining every audience was fully attracted by her singing. The sound of her voice filled the empty room, giving Emily a sense of purpose and fulfillment (成就感).

When she learned about the local singing competition, Emily felt a spark of excitement in her heart. She chose a song that reflected her emotional journey and practised it over and over again. The lyrics spoke to her heart, allowing her to relive (回味) moments of joy, heartbreak and growth.

Finally came the day of the competition. With butterflies in her stomach, Emily could feel her heart pounding in her chest as she walked onto the stage. As the music began, Emily closed her eyes and let her voice flow out. She could hear the audience gasp (倒吸气) as she hit the high notes, and she felt a sense of connection with them that she had never experienced before.

As she sang, Emily’s emotions poured out.

When the judges announced Emily as the winner, she felt a wave of joy washing over her.

Self-Portrait

Alia was disappointed to find herself in the drawing studio. She had been sick with the flu during the week when everyone else got to pick their classes. She had hoped for Astronomy or Marine Biology, but they were full by the time she got to choose. She loved everything about science, from the way it used facts and formulas to how it revealed the basic nature of things. But art was so un-scientific.

The first class project was self-portraits. Some students were drawing self-portraits using mirrors. Others were working from photographs. Alia glanced at the incomplete sketches, feeling like a cat in a dog show. But she had no choice. Hesitantly, she lifted a pencil, only to pause before the canvas. Confusion and reluctance were evidently written on her face; she had no idea how to proceed with her strokes.

The teacher came up to Alia’s easel (画架). Seemingly having noticed her trouble, he sat next to her.

“Every portrait begins with a circle,” he said. “Then you create a series of lines.”

To demonstrate, he drew a group of small, quick portraits. He began each one with a circle, some straight lines, and a triangle to determine where the eyes, nose, and chin should go. To Alia’s amazement, each portrait on the paper took form. Alia had never thought about it, but the features of everyone’s face were in the same spots. “Go ahead and give it a try.” The teacher handed the pencil back to her.

Taking a deep breath, Alia began her own self-portrait. She drew the basic form of a head, the way she had been shown. From there, she used lines to plot the features of her face. She had to take note of each detail, with each stroke, line and curve demanding her close attention. One wrong measurement could throw off the whole portrait.

The process took patience and precision.

Admiring her work, Alia suddenly realized drawing was just what she had hoped for.

As a senior student in high school, I committed myself to active preparation for the upcoming college entrance examination. My days were filled with studying textbooks, practicing exam questions, and making constant revisions. It felt like I was going through the motions, with the weight of pressure and expectations weighing heavily on me. The atmosphere in our class was charged with anxiety. Classmates gathered to. discuss study strategies and shared last-minute tips. Teachers provided additional classes and mock exams (模拟考试) to copy real exam conditions. Everyone desired to achieve their best in the exams to boost their confidence.

Last Thursday, a surprise exam was given to us. We were to complete all the four tests in a single day, Chinese, Maths, English and the Sciences. We had been kept completely in the dark about the exam until the very last minute. Many classmates felt upset at taking it at such short notice. As a veteran (I am repeating the last year of high school), I was used to such a surprise as our dear teachers had in store for us. It was no secret that many other schools had already done the tests. Therefore, it would be a piece of cake to get the answers online.

This term I am paired with Peter by our class director in a tutor-pupil relationship. I am the tutor (老师) ; Peter my pupil. We are supposed to help each other. Since I am more experienced, I am expected to offer tips and tricks to Peter on studies and life.

When word came that the surprise exam was in place, Peter intended to cheat. He complained to me that he would be too worn out to complete all the four tests in such a short time. He added “The exam is not that vital. Many schoolmates have got the keys anyway.”

Hearing Peter s complaint, I got extremely angry.

The day came when the results were out.

Another Way

The train ran smoothly on a spring afternoon. At one station, the doors opened, and came in a man. He wore laborer’s clothing, big, drunk and dirty. Screaming, he swung at an elderly couple. Terrified, the couple jumped up and quickly walked away. The laborer aimed a kick at the back of the old woman but missed. The passengers froze with fear.

I’ve been putting in a solid eight hours of martial arts (武术) training nearly every day for the past three years. “We study how to resolve conflict, not how to start it,” my teacher had said again and again. I listened to his words. In my heart, however, I wanted to save the innocent by destroying the guilty.

“This is it!” I said to myself as I got to my feet. Seeing me stand up, the drunk recognized a chance to focus his rage (怒火). His fists upraised, he gathered himself for a rush at me. A second before he could move, someone shouted “Hey!”

I remembered the strangely joyous quality of the voice. We both stared down at a little old man. “Come here and talk with me,” the old man said in an easy voice. He waved his hands lightly. The big man followed, as if on a string. He planted his feet in front of the old gentleman, “Why should I talk to you?” The old man continued, “What have you been drinking?” “Beer,” the laborer replied, “and it’s none of your business!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” the old man said with interest. “You see, I love beer, too. Every night, my wife and I take beer out into the garden, and we sit on an old wooden bench. We look to see how our persimmon (柿子) tree is doing. We worry about whether it will recover from those ice storms we had last winter. Our tree has done better than I expected, though, especially when you consider the poor quality of the soil.”

As the laborer struggled to follow the old man, his face began to soften.

I turned my head for one last look before getting off the train.