I like to sit at the corner of the café, where I can observe everyone around me without being noticed. The low and comforting sounds of conversations always helps me to think. What happened yesterday is still like a dream to me, a nightmare, perhaps. Being a “model student” for as long as I can remember, people have always thought of me as the polite and modest girl who lives her life meticulously. Who would think one day she would have her parents called to school by the dean for having a conflict with a teacher? I smile bitterly. The play of “good student gone rogue” seems like a cliché. …show more content…
I have seen her several times. In the café, she is a rather familiar stranger. Judging from her outfit, a schoolgirl no older than 16, she seems living in her own world and unaware of the surrounding. I envy her absorption in study, because I can’t help looking around and letting my mind flow freely now and then when doing my work. Maybe she is also a model student, who is used to receiving praise and admiration and spares no effort to keep up with the