得閒無事作一篇，作得唔好勿打頭 
《不用怕，我會陪著妳》
這一句話，我會記上一輩子。
看著那顆靜靜躺在黃菊花瓣上的水珠，心裏百感交雜，不禁回想往事。
六歲的我，抬頭看著那道高聳入雲，凛若冰霜的鐵閘，心裏的恐懼一浪接一浪。父親緩緩把書包放在我的肩膀上。肩膀那一下的重擔把壓抑許久的恐慌決堤而出。我抱著父親的腿，蹲坐在他黑亮的皮鞋上，涕淚俱下地嚎哭著：「父親，我怕！」
父親從公事包裡掏出一塊黃色的小手帕，把我的鼻涕眼淚擦乾後，父親跪下，摸著我的頭說： 「不用怕，我會陪著妳。」
於是，父親緊握著我的手，走過了冰冷的鐵閘，就這樣便開始了六年的小學生涯。
六年過去，同樣是那道鐵閘，但今次的心情卻不一樣。六年後的我，經歷了三場身心疲累的呈分試。儘管知道一切已塵埃落定，心裏卻還是有一絲恐懼。我心儀的中學會選上我嗎？論體藝，我五音不全，身手笨拙；論學術，我只有一兩科成績是比較亮麗，算不上出色，想起班裏名列前茅的幾位同學更是讓我望塵莫及。老師和家長都說那所夢寐以求的中學要求學生文武雙全，樣樣精通。我這樣平凡的學生，螢火之光豈能與皓月爭輝？我緊握著父親的手腕，小聲地說：「父親，我怕！」
父親黑亮的眼睛凝視著我，沉默許久後邊笑著對我說：「我對妳有信心。」
「如果我失敗了，我該怎麼辦？」
「不用怕，我會陪著妳。」
於是，我鼓起勇氣，與其他同學一起走到課室裏。從班主任手上接過派位證，看到密麻麻的字裡行間，浮現出了心儀中學的名字。心裏的喜悅蓋過了一切的恐懼。我隨著同學一起跑到校園外，投入了父親的懷抱，向他展示著那張小小的派位證。他只是瞇著眼睛笑，帶我到學校附近的一所餐廳大快朵頤。
時間飛逝，六年後的我，已不在是那哭哭啼啼，畏首畏尾的小女孩。我已是那身經百戰，準備迎接未來的畢業生。雖嘴裏一直說對自己有信心，但內心還是害怕得很。寒窗苦讀十二年，我不求高中狀元，只求平穩升讀大學。雖然我已經盡力，心裏卻總是想著那最弱的主科。勤學苦練多年，那科的成績卻不進反退。無論我如何努力，成績總是事與願違。天堂地獄，一線之隔，能否躋身大學，便要看這科了。身邊同學都興高采烈地跑上石梯，奔向禮堂。看到他們沿途還輕鬆討論著未來的大學生活，我心裏更是難受。我停在鐵閘前，咬著下唇，躊躇不前 。父親似乎察覺我的不安，他把手輕輕放在我的肩膀上，說：「不用怕，我會陪著妳。」
於是，我獨自邁向石梯，一步一步走向手握著成績表的老師。
父親就這樣陪我渡過了人生一個又一個的風浪。可惜近年，他不如以往。往日的他穿著黑亮的皮鞋，筆直的西裝，穿過人來人往的畢打街。近年的他，已經不再穿西裝，那雙黑亮的皮鞋已經鋪滿了灰塵。他終日靜靜地坐在床上，凝望著窗外任意飛翔的小鳥。
那扇門雖沒有學校的鐵閘那般可怕，但那扇門背後的一切卻讓我迷茫和恐懼。我站在門前遲疑半天，最後還是硬著頭皮，走進了寂靜無聲的房間。
房內除了牆上時鐘的嘀嗒聲，便是父親沉重不順的呼吸聲。我緩緩走到父親的床旁。他笑著說：「你來了。」
我強忍著眼淚，輕輕坐在床前。他的眼睛不復往年的明亮，雙眸混濁得很，讓我看不清，看不透。他那粗糙的手輕輕放在我的掌心。我的眼淚不爭氣地滴落雪白的床單上。我立即用衣袖擦乾了眼淚，心裏的千言萬語，到了嘴邊卻說不出口，腦海一片空白，不知從何說起。一直以來父親都是我的避風塘，為我遮風擋雨，為我打點一切，為我指點迷津。往後的路，我一個人該如何走？
父親察覺到我的恐懼，他把手放在我的肩膀我，輕輕拍著，緩緩地說：「不用怕，我會陪著妳。」
黃菊上的水珠沿著花瓣滑落，滴在石碑前。回憶如走馬燈一般在眼前浮現，眼淚不禁緩緩落下。突然，一隻黃蝶飛舞著，突然停在石碑上，輕輕抖動著翅膀。翅膀上的眼斑隨著抖動一眨一眨的。當我想靠近時，那蝴蝶卻飛走，不消一會便消失在蔚藍的天空中。我會心一笑，心裏說：父親，我不怕，我知道你在陪著我。
又係我亂寫一通嘅時候，串錯、寫錯勿追殺。
Learning English through Short Stories
Go the Extra Mile
Flyers fluttered and scattered through the woods as the race was right around the corner. Every animal, from the squirrels to groundhogs, from butterflies to bees, had been discussing the Great Race. Deer galloping across rivers, birds huddling together and perching on branches, animals gathered round the starting line of the race, hoping to catch a glimpse of the racers.
The crowd cheered as they made way for the racers. Out sprinted the red fox, who was combing his lustrous thick tail. He stood proud on his feet, indulging himself in the sea of applause. Next to the fox was the long slender weasel, she lay low as her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, ready to take off. Then came the hare, who received the loudest shouts of joy as he held his head high and waved at his supporters.
And last, the tortoise staggered his way slowly out of the crowd. Everyone sneered and giggled as the tortoise dragged his heavy shell and his spared body to the starting line. The appearance of the poor slow creature captured even the eyes of the fox and the weasel, they could hardly contain their laughter at the sight of such a rival. Nobody knew why the tortoise decided to sign up for the race last minute, but the tortoise insisted that slow and steady could bring his victory.
The hare, who stood beside the tortoise, chuckled. He was renowned to be the best runner in the woodland. Hardly anybody could keep up his speed, even falcons with the most impeccable eyesight ended up losing him in every hunt. He smirked at the tortoise and blew a raspberry. The tortoise, however, was not intimidated at all. He nodded his head with respect and stretched out his hand. Unsurprisingly, the hare ignored his good intent.
The raccoon, the organiser of the race, leapt onto a tree branch and blew the air horn. At the sound of the screech, the fox, the weasel and the hare charged forwards and soon disappeared within the blink of an eye. The tortoise, frightened by the sudden piercing sound, withdrew in his shell. It took him quite a while to realise the race has started. waddling past the chortling spectators, he tottered and wobbled, slowly making his way to the finishing line.
Midway through the race, the hare stopped and looked around, the fox and weasel were nowhere to be seen. He spotted a giant rock sitting on the edge of the hill. Out of confidence in winning the race, he allowed himself to rest at the rock, enjoying the sunshine and warm breeze.
Suddenly, the ground below rumbled and the cliff collapsed. The hare quickly clung onto the edges. Looking down below at the tiny woods where the starting line was, the hare was petrified and shuddered with fear. He started screaming for help, hoping someone could hear him.
A small auburn head popped out from the cliff above, gazing at the poor hanging hare. The hare cried, “Help me, please!”
The weasel grinned and said, “Why should I help you when I can win?”
The hare panicked as his grasp loosened a little.
“Please! Please help me!”
The weasel shook her head and ran off with a “So long!”
Time flew by and the hare was exhausted, but he never gave up crying for help. Another head slowly emerged from the cliff above. The tortoise tilted his head, eyeing on the hare. Before the hare could speak a word, the tortoise stretched his hand out. The hare was taken aback, never would he imagine he needed help from such an animal. He had always felt he was out of the tortoise’s league and the tortoise would never be able to get close, not to mention lending a helping hand.
The hare reached out for the tortoise’s palm and the tortoise carefully pulled him back up. Panting heavily from exhaustion and fear, the hare asked, “Why did you save me?”
“I don’t take advantages of anyone. If I want to beat you, I want to beat you fair and square,” replied the tortoise. “Are you alright?”
The hare was shocked by the tortoise’s words. He had only viewed the tortoise as a laughing stock and an animal of inferiority, never a friend. Yet, the tortoise had always treated him with decorum. The hare sniffed and replied, “Just a scratch.”
Just when the hare took a step forward, the tortoise tripped and tumbled over, showing his white plastron. His limbs wriggled as the shell spun around. The hare stood still, not knowing what to do.
“You go ahead,” said the tortoise. “I can manage.”
The hare sprang back to the tortoise and helped the tortoise flipped back. The tortoise was surprised.
“Friendship first, competition later,” said the hare. “Come on, let’s go.”
The tortoise and the hare walked slowly together. Near the end of the race, the weather had turned bad. Lightning struck the ground and raindrops splattered. The hare was hesitant to continue the race. They still had a mile ahead of them and the storm seemed to go on forever. He tried to find a shelter but to no avail. Just then, the tortoise lifted his shell up and covered the hare like a canopy.
“Let’s go,” said the tortoise, beaming at the hare.
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