A PSLE continuous writing practice

Theme: Motivation

Prompt Pictures: a mobile phone/a test paper/money

(Use at least one of the three pictures)

Thrilled to show off my perfect score, I burst through the door, waving my test like a trophy. "Mom! Aced the listening comprehension! Remember, you promised new sneakers?" A slow smile spread across my mother’s face. "Well done, honey," she said, her voice strained. "I'll get them for you tomorrow." A slight quaver in her voice betrayed her concern.

I always took prizes for granted when I received a good mark at school. I firmly believed that it was the prizes that allowed me to pull through the gruelling revision before the exams. They were the reward for my hard work and I positively deserved them.

As the End-of-Year exam loomed, I decided to up the ante this time. "Top ten in class," I announced at dinner, "and the iPhone 14 Pro is mine!" Upon hearing that, my mother exchanged a worried look with my father and furrowed her brows. “Sweetheart,” she asked in a conciliatory tone, “that’s a bit out of our budget range. Could we maybe choose something else?”

A deep frown creased my face. My lips thinned into a white line. “If I fail this time,” I grumbled discontentedly, “it’s all your fault!” My mother's sigh was heavy, her hands twisting in her lap. My father shot me a stern look. "Go to your room," he said curtly, "we'll talk later." Pouting, I stomped out, slamming the door behind me with a hollow thud.

School the next day was a drag. Sprawled listlessly across my desk, I barely registered the drone of my classmates or the teacher's lecture. Taking notes? Pointless. Paying attention? Futile. All that mattered to me was the prize – the validation, the tangible reward. A practice paper thudded onto my desk. Glancing at it, I saw a decent score: 94 out of 100. But the number held no weight. "What's the point?" I muttered, shoving the paper aside with a dismissive flick of my wrist.

The time passed quickly and soon the recess bell rang. I accidentally caught a sight of the score of Zadia, the model student of the class – an expected perfect score. My face contorted into a sneer, a childish protest against what felt like an unfair advantage. “Lucky you!” I grunted sarcastically, “I bet your parents will buy you a big prize for the grade.”

“What are you talking about?” Zadia halted mid-bite into her cheese sandwich and turned around to me, her brow furrowed in confusion. “My parents never buy me anything because of my scores.”

“No prize?” My eyes widened in disbelief, her words puncturing a hole in my carefully constructed reality. “Then why are you studying so hard?”

Zadia replied calmly, a hint of amusement in her eyes, “Well, I think the joy of seeing my effort pay off is more than enough to keep me motivated. After all, we are studying for ourselves, aren't we?”

My mind completely boggled. Her words forced me to confront my shallowness of my own motivation. Taking a deep breath, I started to rethink of the real meaning of studying. Studying for myself, not for the prizes. The idea was both daunting and strangely liberating. A silent decision solidified within me.

In the next few weeks, I embarked on a new path of self-discovery. Zadia's words, like a planted seed, blossomed into an intrinsic motivation that propelled me forward. Every correct answer became a personal victory, a silent high five to myself. Studying, once a chore, transformed into a rewarding pursuit set by myself. I devoured textbooks with newfound zeal, dedicating more hours of my own volition. Finally, the day arrived - the End-of-Year exam results. My heart pounded as I scanned the list, and a surge of pure joy erupted within me. There, near the top, was my name.

When I brought the good news back home, my mother drew a deep breath and shot my father a look before opening her mouth, “That’s fantastic! We will buy you an iPhone 14 as a prize.” She paused a couple of seconds and continued, “Your dad's trusty laptop was on its last legs and he was considering buying a new one, but he thinks you deserve the prize.” My father cleared his throat but did not add anything.

I felt a flush creep up my neck, and I avoided meeting my mother's gaze. "Save the money for your laptop," I mumbled. "I no longer need a prize to motivate myself. I have found the real joy of studying."

My mother looked at me in surprise, tears glistening in her eyes. "You have finally grown up," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"I'm so proud of you." Dad approached me with his hand caressing my hair.

Though I did not receive a new phone as a reward at last, I felt even more motivated than ever. The score itself was a real reward for my hard work and the satisfaction it brought was overshadowed any other prize I had received. I deeply appreciated Zadia’s words that changed my mindset and allowed me to pursue greater success through self-driven passion.