Ally Luo

311
June 17, 2024

Item 1:

Protagonist: I (the narrator),

Antagonist:

The English Teacher, Revoked my position as English class

representative

Nancy, the Student who get my position

John, Student who laugh at me

Other Classmates, Students who treated me as a failure

My parents, Supported the teacher’s decision and believed

that my grade was not good enough

Item 2:

Protagonist: I (the narrator),

Antagonist: My father, Condemns my belief in doctors and

firmly believes that doctors only want to earn money from

patients

Ally: Doctors
Item 1:

“Now, let’s congratulate Nancy for being our new English class

representative!” said by Mrs.Lin, the English teacher of the class 2,

grade 5.
 This new representative was taking my place.

During the five years of my primary school life, I had done my

best to be a good English class representative. Whatever come to

school earlier than all students to help my teacher to prepare the

teaching material or urge the classmates to hand in their homework,

I had insisted for every morning.

Having a position in the class is of great significance to a

Chinese students, but it is not so important to do one’s job well.

I was the only class representative who urges classmates to

submit homework every day, so I have become the only one who

would be hated by other classmates.

In my heart, the bottom line of responsibility has always been

the support for me to persist in my work. But others don’t seem to

care.

“Where’s your homework, John?”

“Oh, find it yourself, tag along.”

I don’t have the talent to learn English and I can only barely

maintain mu English grades. Mrs. Lin has also discussed with me

whether I can continue to carry my work as the subject

representative. Due to my self-esteem, I refused to step down from

my position.

But I never thought that teacher would kick me out so

The morning reading ended. nancy was surrounded by

classmates to celebrate.

“Please don’t collect my homework.”

“You are better than Ally as the class representative.”

“Look at her crying in her seat. You should be careful not be

retaliated by her.”

A villain, that’s how my classmates thought me. That day, I

didn’t say a word at all. When I got home, I blamed my teacher to

my parents about this terrible thing, but they just continued to have

their dinner and said I should understand the teacher’s intention.

Since then, I have never been a class representative again.

When I look back, at that time, the position of the subject

representative had become a burden for me instead of a

stimulation. It’s true that without this position, I can focus more on

my own studying than before.

“Now, let’s congratulate Nancy for being our new English

class representative!” said by Mrs.Lin, the English teacher of

class 2, grade 5.

This new representative was taking my place.

During the five years of my primary school life, I had done

my best to be a good English class representative. Whenever

come to school earlier than all the students to help my teacher

prepare the teaching material or urge my classmates to hand

in their homework, I insisted on it every morning.

Having a position in the class is of great significance to

Chinese students, but it is not so important to do one’s job

well.
 I was the only class representative who urges classmates

to submit homework every day, so I have become the only one

who would be hated by other classmates.

In my heart, the bottom line of responsibility has always

been the support for me to persist in my work. But others don’t

seem to care.

“Where’s your homework, John?”

“Oh, find it yourself, tag along.”

I don’t have the talent to learn English and I can only

barely maintain my English grades. Mrs. Lin has also discussed

with me whether I can continue to carry out my work as the

subject representative. Due to my self-esteem, I refused to

step down from my position.

But I never thought that teacher would kick me out so

straightforwardly.

The morning reading ended. Classmates surrounded Nancy

to celebrate.

“Please don’t collect my homework.”

“You are better than Ally as the class representative.”

“Look at her crying in her seat. You should be careful not

to be retaliated by her.”
 A villain, that’s how my classmates thought me. That day, I

didn’t say a word at all. When I got home, I blamed my teacher

and my parents for this terrible thing, but they just continued

to have their dinner and said I should understand the teacher’s

intention.

Since then, I have never been a class representative again.

When I look back, at that time, the position of the subject

representative had become a burden for me instead of a

stimulation. It’s true that without this position, I can focus

more on my studies than before.

Item 2

The more powerless thing than being in a clinic is having a

father who firmly believes that the doctor only wants your money.

In the emergency room, I sent a photo of my hand with a needle

believing in doctors.

Just before I was about to set off for the research activity, I found

that my face was scorching hot, probably due to an allergy.

This activity was so important that I can not be absent, so I only

took a few anti allergy pills and left home.

Unfortunately, my condition was constantly deteriorating so I

hurried to hospital by myself after finishing the activity.

I couldn’t breath and my limbs were weak and numb. To pick up

my medicine, I had to go to the pharmacy but the only thing that I

could do was lying in front of the window like a drunkard.

“I,I,I…”

“What?”

“List…List…Medicine…”

“Here!”

After I got the medicine, the nurse helped me to inject it. It

would spend at least 2 hours so I have to ask my father for picking

up me home.

When the call was answered, my father shouted to me

immediately.

“Why did you inject the medicine without having a call with me?

Don’t you worry about the doctor prescribing the wrong medicine for

you?”
I didn’t know how to reply but just listened to his complaint. My

heart turned to be colder than the hand that was inserted a needle.

After my father arrived, he explained that he was too worried about

my health situation so he complained about those things. We still

chatted with each other on the way home, but I felt sad when I lost

my sleep on the bed.

It’s undeniable that my father cares about me and loves me, but I

want some warm caring at that time. It’s so hard for my father to

love me in the way that I want. But when I blame my father for it, I

would feet guilty for him at the same time.

The more powerless thing than being in a clinic is having a

father who firmly believes that the doctor only wants your money.

In the emergency room, I sent a photo of my hand with a needle

inserted to my father. He replied to a message accusing me of

blindly believing in doctors.

Just before I was about to set off for the research activity, I found

that my face was scorching hot, probably due to an allergy.

This activity was so important that I could not be absent, so I

only took a few anti-allergy pills and left home.

Unfortunately, my condition was constantly deteriorating so I

hurried to the hospital by myself after finishing the activity.

I couldn’t breathe and my limbs were weak and numb. To pick

up my medicine, I had to go to the pharmacy but the only thing that

I could do was lie in front of the window like a drunkard.

“I, I,I…”

“What?”

“List…List…Medicine…”

“Here!”

After I got the medicine, the nurse helped me to inject it. It

would take at least 2 hours so I have to ask my father for picking up

me at home.
 When the call was answered, my father shouted to me

immediately.

“Why did you inject the medicine without having a call with me?

Don’t you worry about the doctor prescribing the wrong medicine

for you?”

I didn’t know how to reply but just listened to his complaint.

My heart turned to be colder than the hand that inserted a needle.

After my father arrived, he explained that he was too worried

about my health situation so he complained about those things. We

still chatted with each other on the way home, but I felt sad when I

lost my sleep on the bed.

It’s undeniable that my father cares about me and loves me, but

I want some warm caring at that time. It’s so hard for my father to

love me in the way that I want. But when I blame my father for it, I

would feel guilty for him at the same time.