Till We Meet In Heaven

I looked at my friends who were writing furiously and I wondered whether they were struggling like me. I glanced at my watch and realized that it was already 10.30 in the morning. We would be going for Ali's funeral in about half an hour. How was I going to say goodbye to my dearest friend?

He was there for me through thick and thin. When my father passed away three years ago, I was very sad. It was Ali who offered his shoulder for me to cry on. He had always been like a big brother to me. I would confide in him whenever I had problems. I could still hear his jokes, his clowning around with us after the exam yesterday. How could I not know that he was sick?

Twenty-four hours ago, Ali was sitting in front of me, struggling with the Chemistry exam. He was so relieved when the exam was over. We went to the Mamak stall, where we usually hang out with the gang. He ordered his usual teh tarik and I noticed that he looked a little under the weather.

"Are you okay?" I was worried.

"Yeah… I'm fine," he said. "Don't worry, it's just exam fever". Little did I know that it would be the last time I see him alive.

Later that night, I received a call from Aunty Salmah. She told me that Ali had been admitted to the hospital for suspected dengue fever. Then, she paused for what seemed like ages, and said in a tearful voice, "Ali had left us. He slipped into a coma and never regained consciousness."

I was numbed. This couldn't be happening to me. I slumped on the floor by the phone, trying to digest the dreadful news. When I came to my senses, I started calling our friends and we went to Ali's house. I could not recall how I spent the rest of the night.

When the exam had finished, my friends and I went straight to the graveyard. I could see many familiar faces there including our school Principal and a few of our teachers. Aunty Salmah looked calm, but her eyes were red and swollen. Ali's father, Uncle Mat was helping the villagers to lower Ali's lifeless body into the grave. Tears blurred my vision. Aunty Salmah suddenly fainted when people started filling Ali's grave with the earth. A few ladies who were there helped to hold her and tried to calm her down. Everybody was unusually quiet when the Imam started saying the prayers.

About half an hour later, everybody started to leave the graveyard. I looked at Ali's grave for the last time. It was covered with colourful petals from different types of flowers. Goodbye, my friend. Till we meet again in heaven. Then, I walked away slowly. I shall never forget this day for the rest of my life.

My Words:
This story was written based on sample SPM question; Write a story which ends with "...I shall never forget this day for the rest of my life." We can actually write either sad or happy story based on this question, but I have chosen to write a sad one. Since I am a Muslim, the background of the story is based on the Muslim tradition. If you are not a Muslim, you may write about your own traditions and rituals regarding deaths and funerals.

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