I woke up to sunlight peeking through my curtains. Just another normal morning, or so I thought. I stretched and mumbled, "I wish I didn’t have to go to school today."
My phone buzzed instantly. A message popped up: "All schools closed due to unexpected weather." I sat up, stunned. Did I just make that happen?
"Okay, that’s weird," I said to myself. "But if I’m staying home, I might as well go shopping." As soon as I said it, my mom walked in and asked if I wanted to go shopping with her. My heart raced. Was this real? I pinched myself—it hurt. This wasn’t a dream.
Feeling bold, I whispered, "I hope I score 100 marks in next week’s exam."
A week later, I was sitting in my final exam. I answered the easy questions first but left a few blanks. One question asked, "Malaysia’s employment rate is ______?" I didn’t know the answer, so I left it empty. Exam time ran out, and the teacher took my paper.
A few days later, the teacher handed back our exams. My blank answers were marked correct—I got 100%. Then the news started. People in Malaysia were losing their jobs—not just a few, but everyone. Factories shut down, offices closed, and the streets filled with people who had nowhere to go. But no one seemed worried. They just accepted it. My mom lost her job too, but she didn’t even seem to care. She just smiled and said, “It’s fine.” Even the teacher quit after grading our papers.
I didn’t understand. How could everyone be so calm?
Then, the international news broke. Other countries were talking about taking over Malaysia. They said it was an easy target now that no one was working. I watched the reports, my heart pounding. This was my fault. I had left those blanks on my exam, and now the whole country was falling apart.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I whispered, “I wish for peace. No more wars.”
The next day, the news was different. The reports about other countries planning to invade Malaysia were gone. Instead, the anchors talked about calm skies and quiet borders. No one mentioned war anymore. It was like the whole world had forgotten about conflict.
It didn’t stop there. I realized my ability was starting to spiral out of control. Sometimes, even when I didn't speak, things would happen according to my thoughts. Back at home, I vented to my dog about everything, wishing he could encourage and comfort me. The next second, I heard my dog talking to me! My dog even spoke to my parents, but they acted like it was normal. Only I thought it was absurd. Everyone treated me like I was the weird one.
I was terrified. What if I accidentally said something that ruined everything? I stopped talking altogether, locking myself in my room. My parents thought I was depressed and worried nonstop. I cried myself to sleep, wishing everything would just go back to normal.
A warm feeling washed over me, like a weight had been lifted. The next morning, I woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtains again. I tested it: "I wish it would snow in Malaysia." Nothing happened.
I smiled for the first time in weeks. I walked out of my room, and my mom was making breakfast. "I made your favorite toast," she said. I looked at my dog and tried talking to him, but he just tilted his head, confused.
Life was normal again. And I realized something: It turns out that an ordinary life is the most precious gift of all.
My phone buzzed instantly. A message popped up: "All schools closed due to unexpected weather." I sat up, stunned. Did I just make that happen?
"Okay, that’s weird," I said to myself. "But if I’m staying home, I might as well go shopping." As soon as I said it, my mom walked in and asked if I wanted to go shopping with her. My heart raced. Was this real? I pinched myself—it hurt. This wasn’t a dream.
Feeling bold, I whispered, "I hope I score 100 marks in next week’s exam."
A week later, I was sitting in my final exam. I answered the easy questions first but left a few blanks. One question asked, "Malaysia’s employment rate is ______?" I didn’t know the answer, so I left it empty. Exam time ran out, and the teacher took my paper.
A few days later, the teacher handed back our exams. My blank answers were marked correct—I got 100%. Then the news started. People in Malaysia were losing their jobs—not just a few, but everyone. Factories shut down, offices closed, and the streets filled with people who had nowhere to go. But no one seemed worried. They just accepted it. My mom lost her job too, but she didn’t even seem to care. She just smiled and said, “It’s fine.” Even the teacher quit after grading our papers.
I didn’t understand. How could everyone be so calm?
Then, the international news broke. Other countries were talking about taking over Malaysia. They said it was an easy target now that no one was working. I watched the reports, my heart pounding. This was my fault. I had left those blanks on my exam, and now the whole country was falling apart.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I whispered, “I wish for peace. No more wars.”
The next day, the news was different. The reports about other countries planning to invade Malaysia were gone. Instead, the anchors talked about calm skies and quiet borders. No one mentioned war anymore. It was like the whole world had forgotten about conflict.
It didn’t stop there. I realized my ability was starting to spiral out of control. Sometimes, even when I didn't speak, things would happen according to my thoughts. Back at home, I vented to my dog about everything, wishing he could encourage and comfort me. The next second, I heard my dog talking to me! My dog even spoke to my parents, but they acted like it was normal. Only I thought it was absurd. Everyone treated me like I was the weird one.
I was terrified. What if I accidentally said something that ruined everything? I stopped talking altogether, locking myself in my room. My parents thought I was depressed and worried nonstop. I cried myself to sleep, wishing everything would just go back to normal.
A warm feeling washed over me, like a weight had been lifted. The next morning, I woke up to sunlight streaming through the curtains again. I tested it: "I wish it would snow in Malaysia." Nothing happened.
I smiled for the first time in weeks. I walked out of my room, and my mom was making breakfast. "I made your favorite toast," she said. I looked at my dog and tried talking to him, but he just tilted his head, confused.
Life was normal again. And I realized something: It turns out that an ordinary life is the most precious gift of all.
Reference:
Authenticharmony(2022). Step into the Infinite A Journey of Meditation and Spiritual Awakening. Pinterest.
https://www.pinterest.com/pin/1095008096897792389/
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