Speculum A reflection of my life so far Shadows slithered towards me as I gently crept behind the towering bookcase.

Footsteps grew louder and echoes filled the hollow basement. Tap, tap, TAP Boo! Its your turn to count now! my cousin screamed into my ear. My name is Rani Singh, and I was born in Fiji on April 18th 1999. Living on a house built on sand surrounded by shady coconut trees, my life was surrounded by water, family, and ice blocks from the local dairy. I lived in Fiji for 2 years, and later moved to New Zealand with my parents. Our first house in New Zealand was small and wooden in a quiet town called Huntly. Outside the kitchen window in our house stood a picturesque scene: an apricot tree with its curled leaves surrounding soft globes of a sunset frozen in time. Every day after day care I would climb onto a chair and pull an apricot of a branch. Then I would puncture the velvety skin with my (rotten) baby teeth and sticky nectar would glide down my chin and drip on the kitchen bench. When I was eight years old, I had my first carnival experience. A repulsive shower of litter covered the blazing field, lit by the familiar flicker of red and white. The sound was deafening. To one side were two tiny children rummaging around a prize machine as the claw descended on their favourite toys; a gasp of joy followed by Yes! Ive got Buzz Light-year! On the other side, a frantic mob of children dragged their harassed mothers to the food stall. There, overwhelming aromas, both pleasant and unpleasant, filled the nostrils of the crowd. At the back of the field, cries of fear mixed with excitement echoed from the illuminating Ferris wheel. Those whod ridden it came off nauseous, having overindulged on the sweet cotton candy theyd brought on the way in. As the night continued the wailing sounds grow louder, the acrid taste of diesel fumes grow thicker and the teenagers grow delirious. Scream if you want to go faster, a sluggish voice claimed on the speakers. Noise erupted from the ride and the man reached out and pulled a big leaver as the ride went higher and higher. Finally the ride finished and a hunched, scrawny man in a fluorescent jacket lead the staggering crowd off the ride. Some drifted back to their friends with smiles on their faces; others went to the back of the queue for one last ride. In my case, pale, terrified and sick, I ran to my mommy and told her I shouldnt be alive. It was the summer of 2010 and what else to do but swim? I called my mate Jade and we decided to go to the outdoor pool together. We both dived into the pool, giggling and splashing, but suddenly I felt a numbing sensation in my legs. Scratching desperately at the tiled side of the pool, I
watched tranquil shafts of sunlight waver in the water. I tried to cram my stubby fingertips into the grout of the pool's tile, trying--and failing--to find some sort of handhold. Alone and sinking downward, a shrill series of screams left my young mouth--but they were lost as soon as they were uttered, transformed into mute bubbles. An eternity later, the heavy

water darkened around me. My limbs grew weary from frantic wind milling; my lungs ached; my eyes closed, surrendering. As I choked and sputtered with the sting of chlorine, a hand reached down into the shadowy depths and yanked me upward to the bright air. Gasping and shivering, I realized my saviour had been not the lifeguard--who was sitting off to the side of the pool, reading--but my friend, Jade.

A year later in June, 2011, I ran to the window to witness the worst storm New Zealand has ever experienced in almost twenty years. The air was hot and full of moisture. The sky had darkened down to pitch black with tiny patches of deep blue peeping through. The heavy clouds hung ominously low, covering the hills. The animals took cover as the first flash of bright lightening zigzagged across the sky, illuminating the clouds. Thunder followed, with a crash that rattled the buildings. Rain came pelting down, smashing against the window panes. Another burst of lightening brightened the dark sky, immediately followed by a low rumble. The third crack of lightening hit a power line, sending luminous sparks into the air like a firework. Lights from the surrounding houses flickered out into nothing. Thunder and lightning continuously flashed and crashed. Moisture seemed to leave the air as the rain began to subside. The clouds began to float away and, eventually disappear. Birds started to chirp and fly around as the clear blue sky shines through and thunder ebbs away to nothing. Animals started to come out of hiding, but I didnt. I sat there curled up under the table, shivering and shaking. On December 15th, it was time to leave New Zealand and move to its rival country, Australia. It was a sad day, having to say goodbye to friends, Chinese dairy owners but mostly, great chocolate ice-cream. This all leads up to 2012, a year to be filled with many requests to say fish and chips.