My Dear Helmet

My Dear Helmet

2 years Ago, I was still a high school student.  I studied in social class. As a social class student, I should do a final project with all of my classmates. The project was obviously not far from our majority which is accounting. So, my classmates and I opened a beverages stand in my school’s annual bazaar. We intended to sell the beverages while making our final project from the stand’s financial flow. That was a great idea. The bazaar was held in 3 days. We divided all of our classmates in 3 groups. I was in a group which was assigned to maintain the stand on the third day. I was happy at that time. I thought that would be fun because the third day usually the most crowded day. I had no any bad feeling about that.

The day when my group had to work came so fast. I prepared all my stuffs at 3pm even though the bazaar started at 5pm. I was so excited. I came early to my high school. I thought I was the first man in school that day. No one was in the parking area. That was both advantage and disaster at the same time. I parked my motorbike in a nearest space from my beverages stand. Because of that, I did not lock my helmet under my seat. I thought it would be totally safe because I could see it from my stand.

So many people came to my high school bazaar on that day, just like what I thought before. The stand was so crowded, hundreds order came per hour. It made me feel time running fast. It was 11pm when I went to the parking area. Suddenly, my heart beat run faster. My eyes look around wildly. My dear white helmet was not on my motorbike. I tried to calm myself down. I tried to think positively. It must be a joke. One of my friends hid my helmet somewhere. Unfortunately until 1am, nobody gave me my helmet back. The parking area was already empty. I realized that my helmet was really gone. It broke my whole day. I felt sad, very sad. I want to cry but I could not do that. I decided to go home directly. I thought it would be waste of time if I try to find the thief. The bazaar’s visitors were almost thousands.

I felt so stupid at that time. I hate myself as well as I hate the thief. I thought that was caused by 70% of my fault. I realized it was my fault. Since that day, I always lock my helmet under my motorbike’s seat like everywhere. I hope that thing will not happen again to me. I miss my dear white helmet.

(I wrote this on writing class)