Sam1's Depository

I gave up on being kind. Being kind isn't giving one giant good deed to others, but it's the act of giving little good deeds over time. Exhausting, isn't it? So yes, I've given up on being kind. Besides, sometimes some people misunderstand, others think I'm showing off, and there are those who abuse my generosity -- which is dumb and frustrating. My shift has been transferred to the night shift after a month in my new workplace. So I ride the last bus home. I can't miss it, because there's no other way to go home. Using a taxi every night is simply expensive. Every night, I make sure I have spare change with me. And whenever I get off from work and ride the bus, I hear the coins jingle down the machine -- followed by the "Thank you." of the bus driver. I've started to know the old bus driver, since he's always the old bus driver whenever I come home. And he's like a machine that always says thank you after the coins jingle -- kin...

One day, there was a happy family. The couple had only one child, but they couldn't be any happier. Dad cherished his son so much that when he was in the crib, dad told him, "I'll never let something bad happen to you. I promise." Their only son was excellent in school. He learned very quickly, and he was great all around at school. Still, he enjoyed playing, like other children do. He helped at home with chores as well. He loved spending time with his family -- he's a good son. During his 12th birthday, a tragedy occurred when his mom died from a car accident. Both of them witness mom pass away in the hospital and the boy held his dad's hand tight. Dad looked down, and the boy looked up. They saw each of them crying. Then dad knelt and preciously hugged him. "I will never let something bad happen to you. I promise." he whispered to his son. From then on, everything turned sour. Their family slowly started to decay. And as time passed, the s...

When I was a child, my mom would always sing me her lullaby. It would always make me feel warm and cozy under my blanket. The stroke of her hand while singing would make any pain go away and it was her magic that never failed to make me fall asleep. Some kids like their bedtime stories. As for me, I just tug my mom while she's cooking or reading and tell her that I'm going to sleep. Mom would then put down whatever she's doing and both of us would go to my bedroom. Then I would listen to her lullaby. I love my mom's lullaby. It's one of a kind and it soothes me from the inside and out. One time, I did my very best hiding my face away from her, because I cried from her lullaby. Such love, such warmth, I thought she was truly one of a kind -- this is the love of my mother. Time passed and it was impossible to keep myself from growing up. I would no longer tug my mom for her lullaby. Instead, every night, my mom would go to my room, and sing me her lullaby while ...

It was a quiet Thursday afternoon. "I'm very sorry about the incident. A lot of things happened last night, sir. I-- I know that we've already talked about this earlier... I'm sorry for being unusual during my presentation. It won't happen again I promise... No, sir, I meant if you give me another chance it won't happen again. Please, just give me another chance. I'm-- I'm calling you from a phone booth." He blew out a sigh. "My cellphone was stolen. I really need this job. I'm begging you... I am worthless, yes! I'm begging you again! I know already begged in the office, sir! Please, understand! Don't fire me-- hello? hello?... hell--" The air was no longer quiet. A lonely man stood inside the lonely phone booth. Although he is still young, it seemed like he had already lost count of his miserable years. The desperate man could barely hang up the black receiver with his trembling hand. But after putting it down, he grabb...