Two months, I’m not blogging, and I’m back!
Now I think my English teacher has given an assignment to me, and she’ll soon regret it.
The assignment simply says this: Make a story, ANY story, with any types of languages (it could be slanks, aussie’s, brit, except ALAYs) in English, using a button as the theme, and how the button end up here.
So I took the word “end up here” as end up in my school, SMAK 1, which is painted blue, the same as the fire department in front of my school. And so, here goes the story.
Once upon a time, there was a button. The button was simply a button attached to an elevator, in a certain hospital in Jakarta, Indonesia. There was only a button, since the button was located on the ground floor.
“It is boring to be the up button! People pushes me, again and again, over and over. I hope I’ll become a down button!” That’s what the up button thought, and so, let it be. The up button suddenly changed to the down button, with a magic from Tinkerbell.
Obviously, people stop going up with the lift. Because at the ground floor, the lift won’t even go up. It stucked. There are no basements at all, I assure you. And the down-once-to-be-the-up-button simply had another to share.
“You know what, it feels really-really happy, nobody touches me with their dirty hand!” That was what the down-once-to-be-the-up-button thinks. And the down button danced. At least in its mind.
After several days, the down button was still happy. The down button was still the down button. However, one day, the down-once-to-be-the-up-button has another thing to share.
“I miss their dirty hand. It feels really boring, when you should do something and you don’t. I wish I became an up button again. “ And so be it.
The down button wass worked again, fully functional, and people started pushing the button. After weeks , our-old-friend-the-up-button had something to share. Again.
“Yucks! Do those people ever wash their hands? I’m sick of their filthy hands! I don’t want to be touched by those filthy hands, ever!” And so be it.
Nobody touched the up button with their filthy, dirty hands. Instead, nobody touched the up button ever. Simply because the button was broken. And what else? Did the button starts the monologue again?
Nope. The repairman came. And by just seeing the up button, it is decided that the button is unrepairable (at least for now), and now I will quote what the repairman said. “Let’s just pull this freakin’ button out, and throw it with another piece of rubbish!”
And so be it. The button was thrown. The story ends. NOT!
“ I am hungry… I need food… I miss becoming the lift button again..” That’s what the button said, in the darkness. When suddenly, the world turned into the darkness, as the button collapses.
When he woke up, he found himself in a certain school’s lift. He saw a person was installing the button with a lift in a blue-painted-school-inspired-by-the-blue-painted-fire-department-that-is-located-in-front-of-the-blue-painted-school. And when he knew that, he was very happy.
However, sometime he feels not happy, because filthy hands touched the button. And that’s why the lift in that-blue-painted-school sometimes broken. And that’s how the button ends up here.
-XXX-
Yeah, what the heck, I don’t care. I simply feel regretful for my friend who created the idea for the story, for I am failing to make a normal story. Mwahahahahaha…
Ok, 1.39 am right here, I’m over and out!
