A young girl in a pink jacket and gray pants browsing and reading a comic book in a bookstore aisle.

My World in Words

I like reading because it transports me to a different world, a world of imagination.

When I read, I become very curious. I always wonder, “Why does this character feel this way? What is happening to them? What would I do if I were in the same situation?” I think that is why I enjoy reading so much. It makes me think about people, their feelings, and the choices they make.

One of my favourite books is Harry Potter. I read the series 22 times. Whenever I start reading it, I cannot put the book down. The story is so magical and exciting that I feel as if I have been pulled into Hogwarts myself.

I also like The Vanderbeekers of 141st Street. Their lives are so interesting, and I love how the children care for one another. They try so hard to convince Mr Beiderman to let them stay in their home, because they do not want to leave their neighbours and friends. If I were them, I would feel extremely sad too, because it would be painful to leave a home I had lived in for such a long time, especially just before Christmas.

Some of my favourite authors are David Walliams, Roald Dahl and J. K. Rowling. I enjoy their books because they are funny, imaginative and full of emotion.

Reading helps me build patience, because it takes time to finish a whole book. It also teaches me to pay attention to details, because even a small detail may become an important clue later in the story.

I first discovered that I liked reading when I was in kindergarten. My mother bought me books, and once I started reading them, I realised I could not stop. Whenever I finished one book, I would immediately pick up another. If I had free time, I would take out my book and start reading.

One of the first books I remember reading was What My Dog Can Do.

I have read Harry Potter many times because each time feels different. The first time, some parts were confusing. But the more I read it, the more I understood the characters, the plot and the twists. By the fifth time, I understood the whole story much better. But even then, I still wanted to read it again because it felt like stepping back into a magical world, not just reading the same book another time.

That is why I love reading. It may seem like a simple hobby, but to me, it is actually a portal to an entirely different world.

I haven't stood on a competition stage or won a writing prize. But I have spent years living inside stories, learning how writers make you feel things you never expected to feel.

Books I Read

A young child with dark hair and wearing a red and white striped shirt is sitting at a white table, doing a homework or activity in a workbook with a black marker. The child has one hand on their face, appearing focused or thoughtful. There are holiday-themed cutouts on the table, including one yellow with a candy cane and the label 'santa claus.' In the background, a window shows an outdoor view, and a countertop holds colorful toys and a box with animal illustrations.

2025

By Ariel Leong

A Long Wait →

The sun was merciless, its blazing rays roasting the surroundings to a dreary brown. Creamy white clouds seemed to melt away from the azure blue sky. From where I was seated, short, distinct shadows were cast on the pavement. Beads of perspiration formed on my skin as I sat under an umbrella, trying to escape from the blistering sun that was blinding my eyes.

I glanced at my watch impatiently. Sarah was late again. Each passing second felt like an eternity, and my irritation slowly began to build. Around me, the café buzzed with chatter and laughter, yet I sat alone, waiting.

I took a sip of my ice-cold drink, hoping it would calm me down. However, it did little to ease my frustration. I tapped my fingers against the table, my patience wearing thin. I had been waiting for almost half an hour.

“Where is she?” I muttered under my breath, tightening my grip on the cup. The condensation trickled down the sides, dampening my fingers.

Just as I was about to leave, I saw Sarah hurrying towards me. Her steps were quick and unsteady, as though she had been rushing. The moment she reached the table, all the anger that had been building up inside me burst out.

“What took you so long?” I demanded.

Sarah froze. Her shoulders slumped, and she lowered her gaze. When she finally looked up, her eyes were filled with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “M-my grandmother is sick.”

My heart sank.

All the anger drained from me instantly, replaced by a wave of guilt. I stared at her, speechless, as the weight of my words sank in. While I had been sitting there complaining, she had been dealing with something far more serious.

“I… I didn’t know,” I stammered softly.

Without another word, I followed her to the hospital. When we arrived, I saw her grandmother lying weakly on the bed. The sight made my chest tighten. Sarah stood silently beside her, her expression filled with worry.

At that moment, I realised how selfish I had been.

Through this incident, I learnt to always put myself in the shoes of others before I act. Things can easily be blown out of proportion when anger takes over, and I learnt something of paramount importance that day.