The Jump

The Journal of Trainee ECHO-119

Excerpt 4

The Jump

A familiar wave of panic,

Rising much alike the sun,

Both inevitable, constant,

And sure to reach a peak.

Passing its peak it then sets,

With all the grace of a receding flood;

Sneaking away and gone before we’re fully aware,

But nevertheless leaving a trail of destruction.

Dawn to dusk in but a moment,

The sun is quickly forced to give way to the moon.

Her radiance seeps into everything,

As she takes her place as rightful ruler of the night.

Her light imbues all with a calm,

And the harshness of the sun,

Now nothing but a scant memory,

Will be forgotten and replaced with serendipity.

Nothing can escape her,

As she soars above in all her splendor.

Stretching the very fabric of time,

She expands her beauty to a subjective eternity.

Wind brushing against my face,

Everything is then extinguished in an instant,

As gravity finally reasserts itself,

And my feet once again meet the ground.

To be blogged about when I return.

Docendo discimus

Excerpt 3

I slipped on my own shoes,

The familiar sensation of the soles

Treaded and jumped upon thousands of times,

Returning and comforting me.

The memory of every step,

Every jump,

Every landing,

Rushing down upon me.

And like a wave of instincts,

With all conscious streams of thought,

Slowly but surely blacking out,

I run.

We’re divided into three companies – Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie. I’m in Company Charlie. More specifically, I’m leader of Company Charlie. Me, an awkward Chinese boy, who knows scant Malay, in a position of leadership I’m not sure I can fulfill. I hope I’ll be able to motivate and inspire my company the way a leader should. And I hope that I’ll be able to learn by teaching at the same time.

Docendo discimus.

Spiritual Onions

The Journal of Trainee ECHO-119

Excerpt 2-

Never rely on that which may be unreliable.

Nothing is reliable.

Saturday evening. Two boys get possessed. Everyone’s pretty freaked out but a group of Muslim trainers seem to have it under control. One of them asked for onions. Don’t ask me why. They shooed the rest of us out of the block.

Sunday morning. Last I heard, both of the boys were sent to the medic and are still there.

Sunday afternoon. One boy is released. As we assembled to do a roll call, the aforementioned boy is repossessed. He goes stiff as if rigor mortis is setting in.

Sunday evening. We eat dinner early. As I fork some rice into my mouth, a girl screams. And then screams again. Everyone stands up and backs away from her, with the exception of her closest friend. She then clutches her chest and screams again as if something is trying to get into her. They seat her down as she is sweating. One of the trainers go over to her and there is no further screaming. She is then brought to the medic. All of this takes place within two minutes.

Sunday, right now. Everyone is more spooked than yesterday. I think I’m one of the few that are unafraid. They’re now gathering us according to religion. I assume they’re going to let us pray or something.