My Fun in Singapore!!!!!!
Hi everyone.
Here is a short (lol yeah right) story I wrote that I thought I might share with you. Hope you enjoy.
As I step out hot humid air hits my body like I’ve suddenly been thrown into a ragging bonfire. It’s then I realize that it was unnecessary to pack a long sleeve thermal. As always my legs are shaking. I am always nervous when I take my first step into a foreign country. I have been to numerous countries with my father when he is doing business. Dad leads me through Customs. As we walk I find myself staring at the huge muscliy, armed guards. I really, really don’t want to be dragged away by any of them.
We make it through the Singapore Customs without any fuss. I am very grateful for that. When we are outside (in the heat) Dad waves down one of the taxis. I always love it when he does that. I always feel like I’m in a Hollywood movie. It’s so cool. We hop in to the wonderfully cool; air conditioned taxi and drive of into the sunset. More like a crazed highway filled with angry people driving smoking cars and constantly tooting horns. I always love the overseas experience because you read the travel magazine but when you arrive you find it’s totally different to what it’s advertised. The taxi turns and parks in front of our apartment.
I have to admit I was pretty taken back by the size and shape of it. Of all the places I’ve stayed in this has to be one of the best and biggest. Imagine knowing that your dad owned that building. It’s really weird sometimes when I go overseas. We have maids. We stay in ginormous houses or apartments. I don’t have to do anything and every one treats me with a lot of respect. I guess they have an image in their head. A spoilt little girl who you have to tip-toe around or she will get you sacked. Personally I think they watch way to many un-original movies.
Our apartment was on the top floor. I got to choose between floor 26, 30, 3, and 11 so I chose the highest. I guessed I could get a pretty good view from there. I decide to take the stairs up to my room and anyway I could just get on a elevator when I got too puffed. After five floors of sprinting up stairs I was completely knackered. I think it was a combination of not being fit and jet lag. I was glad when I hopped into the elevator because it was a clear one on the edge of the building. It gave me a clear view of the city. I never get sick of them. Because I was so tired I said ‘Goodnight’ to dad and settled into my room. It was four by five meters I guessed. There was one black feature wall and the rest were cream. My bed (king size) was against the black wall. It had a huge back board but I couldn’t see what was on it until I removed what seemed to be thousands of black and white cushions. Above the bed was three separate paintings that when put together made a face.
The eyes in the centre piece followed me everywhere. I jumped onto the soft bed to have a closer look at the eyes. They seemed so real and life like. They were even watery. I then put my index finger out to touch them. “Aaahh,” I let out a scream and jumped backwards. They had blinked I was sure they had. I cautiously reached out again. What do you know? They blinked again! I ran out of my room to tell dad about this fantastic piece of artwork. Obviously they weren’t real. I found Dad sitting on a big bright red chair watching an English programme. I think it was something like ‘Rove’. I wasn’t taking much notice.
Dad, Dad,” I called. He wasn’t much notice so I called his name out in a way that he always hates, “D-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ad!” He immediately swung his head around and said “What?”
“Come with me I’ve got something to show you”
“Do I have to?” groaned Dad.
“Yes, it’s really cool”
“Fine then,” dad finally hauled himself off his lazy boy and followed me into my room. I jumped onto my bed and signaled Dad with a wave of the hand to follow. He slowly (at sloth speed) made his way to me.
“Dad watch the carefully, it will blink.” I reached out and touch the watery soft eye. I t blinked. Dad shot backwards.
‘It’s real,” he shouted.
“What it can’t be,” I yelled back at him.
“Oh yes it can. I read about it in the news. A group of people who stand in the wall with their eyes in the art work so they can see what goes on in the house. They sneak into rich English peoples houses and put the artwork in. The police haven’t yet found out why they want to see the goings on in rich people houses but I’m sure the police will be happy to know that we found another of their hiding places.
I screamed at him. “Well what are you waiting for? Call them.”
Dad bolted out of the room. It seemed like Dad still had a little life left in his body after all. I looked back up the eyes were gone from the painting. Whoever had been there had proberly left as soon as Dad started talking about seeing their gang on the news.
The police arrived within five minutes. The guy was well gone by then. They sent us to the airport and told us to catch the next fight home. Apparently there was some sort of danger in us staying because the gang might want to kill us. Talk about drama. Anyway dad was pretty shaken by it all but I was just fine. I’m a 21st century kid. Stuff happens. When we got home I was on ‘Close Up’ and ‘Campbell Live’. Cool eh? So I guess that’s my little adventure.
By the way Mrs Hooper, everything in this story is true except what I have made up.
Here is a short (lol yeah right) story I wrote that I thought I might share with you. Hope you enjoy.
As I step out hot humid air hits my body like I’ve suddenly been thrown into a ragging bonfire. It’s then I realize that it was unnecessary to pack a long sleeve thermal. As always my legs are shaking. I am always nervous when I take my first step into a foreign country. I have been to numerous countries with my father when he is doing business. Dad leads me through Customs. As we walk I find myself staring at the huge muscliy, armed guards. I really, really don’t want to be dragged away by any of them.
We make it through the Singapore Customs without any fuss. I am very grateful for that. When we are outside (in the heat) Dad waves down one of the taxis. I always love it when he does that. I always feel like I’m in a Hollywood movie. It’s so cool. We hop in to the wonderfully cool; air conditioned taxi and drive of into the sunset. More like a crazed highway filled with angry people driving smoking cars and constantly tooting horns. I always love the overseas experience because you read the travel magazine but when you arrive you find it’s totally different to what it’s advertised. The taxi turns and parks in front of our apartment.
I have to admit I was pretty taken back by the size and shape of it. Of all the places I’ve stayed in this has to be one of the best and biggest. Imagine knowing that your dad owned that building. It’s really weird sometimes when I go overseas. We have maids. We stay in ginormous houses or apartments. I don’t have to do anything and every one treats me with a lot of respect. I guess they have an image in their head. A spoilt little girl who you have to tip-toe around or she will get you sacked. Personally I think they watch way to many un-original movies.
Our apartment was on the top floor. I got to choose between floor 26, 30, 3, and 11 so I chose the highest. I guessed I could get a pretty good view from there. I decide to take the stairs up to my room and anyway I could just get on a elevator when I got too puffed. After five floors of sprinting up stairs I was completely knackered. I think it was a combination of not being fit and jet lag. I was glad when I hopped into the elevator because it was a clear one on the edge of the building. It gave me a clear view of the city. I never get sick of them. Because I was so tired I said ‘Goodnight’ to dad and settled into my room. It was four by five meters I guessed. There was one black feature wall and the rest were cream. My bed (king size) was against the black wall. It had a huge back board but I couldn’t see what was on it until I removed what seemed to be thousands of black and white cushions. Above the bed was three separate paintings that when put together made a face.
The eyes in the centre piece followed me everywhere. I jumped onto the soft bed to have a closer look at the eyes. They seemed so real and life like. They were even watery. I then put my index finger out to touch them. “Aaahh,” I let out a scream and jumped backwards. They had blinked I was sure they had. I cautiously reached out again. What do you know? They blinked again! I ran out of my room to tell dad about this fantastic piece of artwork. Obviously they weren’t real. I found Dad sitting on a big bright red chair watching an English programme. I think it was something like ‘Rove’. I wasn’t taking much notice.
Dad, Dad,” I called. He wasn’t much notice so I called his name out in a way that he always hates, “D-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-ad!” He immediately swung his head around and said “What?”
“Come with me I’ve got something to show you”
“Do I have to?” groaned Dad.
“Yes, it’s really cool”
“Fine then,” dad finally hauled himself off his lazy boy and followed me into my room. I jumped onto my bed and signaled Dad with a wave of the hand to follow. He slowly (at sloth speed) made his way to me.
“Dad watch the carefully, it will blink.” I reached out and touch the watery soft eye. I t blinked. Dad shot backwards.
‘It’s real,” he shouted.
“What it can’t be,” I yelled back at him.
“Oh yes it can. I read about it in the news. A group of people who stand in the wall with their eyes in the art work so they can see what goes on in the house. They sneak into rich English peoples houses and put the artwork in. The police haven’t yet found out why they want to see the goings on in rich people houses but I’m sure the police will be happy to know that we found another of their hiding places.
I screamed at him. “Well what are you waiting for? Call them.”
Dad bolted out of the room. It seemed like Dad still had a little life left in his body after all. I looked back up the eyes were gone from the painting. Whoever had been there had proberly left as soon as Dad started talking about seeing their gang on the news.
The police arrived within five minutes. The guy was well gone by then. They sent us to the airport and told us to catch the next fight home. Apparently there was some sort of danger in us staying because the gang might want to kill us. Talk about drama. Anyway dad was pretty shaken by it all but I was just fine. I’m a 21st century kid. Stuff happens. When we got home I was on ‘Close Up’ and ‘Campbell Live’. Cool eh? So I guess that’s my little adventure.
By the way Mrs Hooper, everything in this story is true except what I have made up.
posted by Huiakama at 1:52 PM
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