Why I didn't enter your contest...

In my mind, I envision a man.1

A man who takes refuge in a small enclosed room with walls plastered with pink Strawberry Shortcake and Hare Hare Yukai posters; the floor with various toys all won from his neighbourhood carnivals scattered across the floor – O, these are his pride, his trophies, half-a-lifetimes’ work!2

It was ever since twelve years back, when he first set foot in a carnival, his life was transformed dramatically. Having had a deprived childhood, his eyes filled with fuelled passion at the sight of children frolicking in the merriment that he never had the chance to experience.3

The classic Balloon and Dart game, the Watergun, the Whack-A-Mole, the Ring Toss game – all these booths he revisited again and again, his self-control was that of a child and thus, he was completely hypnotized by the sheer chance that he would win. The pleading eyes of the soft-toys pulled at his strings; it was almost as if they were screaming at him each time he wanted to give up and egging him on to get more even when he won. That night, he came back with an armful of plushies, dolls and furry bears, as well as with a stomach filled to satiety of popcorn, candy floss, caramel apples and ice cream! What a night! A night he had so thoroughly enjoyed!4

He smiled, laughed, chuckled. At the thought of next year’s carnival and the year after the next’s and the year the year after the next’s. His obsession grew and grew until after ten years, the carnival did not come anymore as the man kept winning all the prizes year after year.5

This man had a socially-starved childhood. His uncle tortured him when he did not study. So he studied. He did not know that anything else existed except studying. He had studied his whole childhood away. At thirteen, he had obtained an English Masters’ degree at Cambridge online. At fourteen, his uncle died. At fifteen, he went to his first carnival. At age seventy-seven, he found the website Storywrite.6

He always had a burning passion in him to write for that was how he communicated with the world. In fact, that was his only way of communication to the outside world. Even if no one read his stories or entered his contests, he continued just as he had continued trying again and again in every one of those carnival games.7

Just as how he succeeded in winning all those soft-toys, he would clinch the title of being a famous published author. He would put his excellent command of English to good use to make the dream to come true.8

I know all this because I know this man. I know his history. I don’t just envision him.9

There are only two characters in this story – the uncle, which is me and the man who is YOU!!!10

AND SO, THE REASON WHY I DIDN’T ENTER YOUR CONTEST IS BECAUSE I AM YOUR UNCLE (who actually did not die) AND I WANT YOU TO GET BACK STUDYING!!!11