I remember the wish I made when I was thirteen years old when I was writing an essay. I hope that I will be safe throughout my life, my parents will be healthy, and my family will be happy. My mother wakes me up every day, and I occasionally enjoy my father's wonderful cabinetry skills.
This wish came true. But what about now? I gently stroked the faintly visible color on the wishing rope that had turned white over the years, feeling a little lost...
If I live again... Am I willing to be ordinary now?