Henry Wang Hengle, Grade 8, BASIS International School Shenzhen I looked up and down the road searching for any entry leading into a farm, and having spotted a couple of feet ahead, I hastened towards it. Pushing open the wooden gate that guarded the entrance, I walked in with a slight feeling of guilt for entering without prior consent and nervousness of what awaited me. Coming around a sudden turn, a stately red-brick mansion loomed into sight, which I decided was where I should be heading to find the owners. “They must be having dinner now,” I thought. The grandeur of the building with marble statues all along the rooftop and a delicately carved fountain in front was rather frightening and eye-opening to me. Entering upon the porch, I knocked gently at the great mahogany doors with intricate carvings and waited nervously for an answer. “Will the owner of the house tie me to a tree and beat me with a horse whip?” I thought with my heart dissolving under the pressure of the idea. After about half a minute, the door opened. Having been out in the dark for so long, I was dazzled by the immense light created by the row of crystal chandeliers hanging from the carved ceiling of the entrance hall, when I suddenly noticed a man standing in the doorway. A rough and bearded man of about 40 with a strong whiff of whiskey, bearing a hunting gun behind his back, stood there silhouetted in the front porch. I was too startled and frightened to utter a single word. “Who are you?” the man sneered. “Jack, sir, Jack...” I felt my voice trembling, “I was wondering if I can have some —” “Out! Out!” The man bellowed. “I don’t want beggars on my doorstep dirtying my great mansion. Out!” And with a giant slam of the door that left dust flying everywhere, he shut the door in front of me. For a moment I was too shocked to move, but then coming to my senses, ran away from the house as fast as I could, pell-mell up the wooded path, not sparing a second glance back at the gleaming and beautiful house. Outside the gate I flung myself upon the middle of the darkened road, and without any conscious thought or self-restraint, started to cry, for a very long time. | 