Week 3 Writing Homework
Prompt : Write a narrative called “The Biggest Mistake of my Life”
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- Due Date : November 8, 2025
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The Biggest Mistake of My Life
Some mistakes don’t just stain your conscience—they haunt your dreams and follow you everywhere like a shadow you can never outrun. My mistake wore the faces of Amber and Lilly. They were my whole world, and the day I lost them still replays in my mind with every heartbeat.
It was a stormy afternoon, the kind where thunder feels like it’s rattling your bones and fate seems twisted in the heavy air. School was almost over for the term; the corridors were emptying, windows rattling with the wind. Amber, bold and mischievous, nudged my arm. “One last adventure before the break, Lilly,” she urged, her eyes shining with trouble and promise.
Something inside me—fear, excitement, maybe both—answered her recklessness. Together we crept through the old gym hallway, our footsteps crunching on dusty tiles. Amber knew about the storeroom where all the confiscated phones and secret treasures from the term were hidden. “Let’s just look,” she whispered. “No one will find out.”
The lock was tricky, but Amber’s hands, clever and eager, worked their small magic. The door swung open, and a trove of forbidden treasures greeted us—glinting phones, smashed skateboards, even a crumpled note with a heart drawn on it. I saw my own reflection shaking, uncertain, in the glass.
Then—I did it. I reached for a glittery phone, my fingers slippery with nerves. It slipped. The crash echoed like a confession in the silence. Amber’s face turned white. We froze. Heavy footsteps thundered toward us and Mrs. Harris, her jaw set with anger, appeared in the doorway.
We were caught. The rest was a blur: guilt, the principal’s cold words, that sickening twist inside as Amber was sent home in tears—because of me. Our names were whispered in the halls for days, but all I cared about was how Amber and I no longer shared knowing smiles in class. Lilly, who had stood by me through everything, suddenly sat two seats away, a chasm of silence between us.
I didn’t just break into a locked room that day—I broke trust, and with it, two precious friendships. My biggest mistake wasn’t mischief or curiosity. It was betraying Amber and Lilly with one hasty act. Now, when storms rattle the window, I remember that terrible choice, and the friends I lost to it. Some mistakes can never be fixed. This was mine.
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The Biggest Moment of my life
Australia is the biggest event in my life. The memory of the day when Mom and Dad told me that we were leaving Seoul is very faint. Exactly at that moment, I experienced fear and thrill simultaneously. I had never set foot in another country, and the idea of relocating was bringing about a rapid heartbeat.
On my final night in Korea, I was standing by the cold window and gazing at the twinkling city lights when my thoughts went to my friends and school. Would I be able to get along or would I miss home too much? The trip to Australia was really long, and I was so eager that I couldn’t sit still.
Sydney was one big different experience: pure air, vast sky, tiny houses in contrast with Seoul, and the most curious of languages everywhere. I felt lost. My schooling was marked by the always difficult relations with the teachers and the process of friendship forming. Sometimes all I wanted was to disappear and cry. If I didn’t get any clue, it wouldn’t make sense to come here. However, slowly, yet surely, things improved.
One day, a fellow student asked me to play soccer. I was afraid but still accepted. This was the first time I had a feeling of belonging to the group. I was acquiring a lot of new words daily and the teachers were very kind and patient. My family and I went farther out to see more beautiful beaches and parks. We even tried some strange foods like meat pies. I made friends from many different countries and at the same time discovered new sides of my character. Australia is where I feel at home now.
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The Biggest Mistake Of My Life
My biggest mistake is flying to South Korea to teach. The moment when I stepped through the door to the classroom circles around my mind each morning and night. I had asked questions to myself even before I had came here. This was a total disastrous moment I had soon regretted.
It was a very pushy start to the day. I had eaten my pancakes, and was ready to go with my heavy suitcase and travel bag. My dad drove me to the airport rushing through the early traffic due to the eagerness of the start to the holidays. I looked out the window with a glum sigh. I had questioned myself once, twice, and another time again. Is it really worth travelling somewhere I hadn’t been for years? And may I really benefit from this travel experience? I decided to stay as positive as possible. It was a long trip though and I was sure I had to miss out at school if this all didn’t go well.
DING! The plane just arrived in South Korea. I took out my glimmering passport with my sweaty fingers and passed it to the employee at the desk with trembling hands. I went to the uber drive and went all the way to the hotel which would have been crazy expensive if I didn’t have a VIP ticket. I slumped down onto the fluffy chairs and started filling in the first part of my examination test.
The next day I had arrived at the local school I went to teach. Every single pair of glistening eyes of the students stared at me as if I was an alien that had come from a different dimension. Then someone started to giggle and soon enough, everyone was falling off the chairs laughing at my appearance. I was mad then I had to shout at them and end in the principal’s office. It was a tough time trying to teach these children not to mention that I was starting to learn some Korean. After the long hours had ended, some high schoolers came to me and said, “Do you even have a good degree to teach?” He was mocking me without any hesitation when I snatched my hands right out of my mittens.
Now, I had practised to not be too over protective of myself. I calmed myself down by running around the beach a few times. Every day seemed to be full of teasing and that turned to bullying. Then it just got worse. My teacher wanted me to stay in Korea for another week! I had to agree in order to be a teacher. She thanked me. I still couldn’t believe how I had to survive another week. I knew I had to stop this nonsense. I went to school the next morning. I had booked a meeting with Mr Smith (the principal) At lunch to tell him what had been happening. There I waited the clock to tick to lunch. It was a hard lesson to deal with but I managed to keep on going. Finally I had the meeting with the principal. I had told him all about the boys who had bullied me ever since I decided to be a casual teacher for a month at this school.
The meeting went pretty well with no misunderstandings or inconveniences. The boys were suspended for such rudeness to a teacher. They were sent home with dirty teardrops falling off their mud covered faces. I was allowed to go back home to get back on schedule after the same repetitive flight and lack of sleep. Then…PEACE!
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If I had known how much everything would change, I might have thought twice before stepping onto that plane. Back then I thought I was in for an exciting adventure, but things didn’t go quite the way I imagined.
It all began on a hectic morning when I nearly missed my flight after lingering over breakfast for too long. As if that weren’t enough, the person next to me spent the entire trip snoring loudly, making the flight feel endless. By the time I landed, I was tired, hungry, and already wishing I could go home.
When I arrived at my new school, I tried to smile and make friends, but the other students laughed at my Aussie accent and the way I dressed. At first, I thought they were just curious, but slowly, the teasing turned into bullying. They hid my books, whispered behind my back, and sometimes pushed me in the hallways. I felt completely alone.
Every day, I hoped someone would be kind to me, but no one was. The teachers seemed too busy to notice, and I didn’t want to seem weak by complaining. I missed home so much that I counted down the days on my calendar. I still had two long months left before I could go home, and the thought of surviving that long made me feel hopeless.
Then, one cold December morning, something changed. A girl named Emma sat next to me and asked if I wanted to be her partner for a project. She was kind and funny, and soon we became friends. She also told me about Sinterklaas, the Dutch Santa, who arrives by boat from Spain every year.
A week later, Emma invited me to a town parade to see Sinterklaas arrive. Music filled the streets and children laughed. To my surprise, Sinterklaas himself walked up to me, smiled, and gave me a small chocolate shaped like my initial. “Welkom in Nederland,” he said which meant Welcome to the Netherlands.
For the first time since I’d arrived, I felt like I belonged. Maybe coming here wasn’t the biggest mistake of my life after all. Maybe it was just the hardest adventure that turned into the most magical one.
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