True Or false…

Story1
The bell strikes 10.45am, the class cheered happily and rushed out of the class as soon they greeted the teacher. I was walking out of the classroom with Dora my best friend when suddenly a chair flew overhead of us and landed on the ground not more than 1m in front of us. We turned our shocked little heads around and saw Jonathan, the class villain standing near some chairs, giving us a sly grin. I was infuriated with him but do not dare to confront him. Who would dare to confront someone that is 180cm tall and 90kg?

Thus Dora and I hurried to find Miss Ong, our form teacher at the teacher office. We ran as fast as a cheetah as we do not want Jonathan to catch up with us. Our heartbeats ran twice as fast and when we finally reached the office, we were panting so hard that no words got out of our mouth. Beads of perspiration cascaded down our pale complexion and soaked our T-shirt.

Miss Ong was shocked to see us in such a terrible state and thought that her students had just ran out of the mental institution.

“What are you doing?” was the first question that she asked in a furious tone. I forgot to mention that she hates ill-disciplined students who never greet their teachers. Thus I presume this was why she did not believed our story and dismissed as a case of prank no matter how hard Dora and I tried to explain. We wasted our saliva on her for about half an hour before we went to talk to our mathematics teacher. He then confronted Jonathan for us. It was a close shave. What if we hadn’t thought of Mr. Fong? Maybe Jonathan would have got us…

Story2
I was always willful as a child, never listening to the elders. I suffered from that once and mended my ways. It was a painful lesson indeed…

“Hey, stop jumping around in the lift, later we all trapped inside how?” my mother scolded me for the fifth time in the lift. Every time I stopped jumping, the lift stops shaking thus I always started jumping after awhile for the sake of having fun but this time I started to think if my finger would follow in with the door of the lift if I put my hand on the door. Therefore, I put my hand on the lift when the adults are busy gossiping. It reached the sixth floor and the door slide open.

I screamed and cried as loud as I ever did. The adults woke from their gossips and were shocked to see that one of my finger gone in with the door. They tried to no avail to pull my finger out. After a while, my finger was numb and felt no pain at all. I almost fell asleep as they continue to try all methods of pulling my finger out.

Finally, some stranger applied oil on my finger and pulled it out. I was relieved to get my finger back although it was very painful, swollen and red. I remembered my mother asking me to rest after finding out that I got a slight fever perhaps due to the shock that I received. My finger remained swollen and red for about a month. Thus every time I looked at my finger, I was reminded never to be willful again.