It's dark.

I am alone again. In the area beside the auditorium.

I am listening to some music. I am rocking a big long bench. I am typing this.

Bright lights shine all around me. Night lights. What are they for sometimes I wonder.

The school at night. It is a different place. A place with only a few occasional souls. A place where I can sing and curse out loud. A place filled with quiet tables and benches and rooms.

It is weird. Have we ever wondered what will happen to all these things, all these objects, all these walls in school after we are gone? Do they sing? Do they dance? Does our school transform? Is there anyone else out there?

This place is so different. In the day it is filled with noisy students, visionary principals, idealistic student leaders, busy teachers, tired cleaners, happy OMs, curious juniors...

Now it is so empty.

So quiet.

So peaceful.

It is like a mind void of all its cells. Void of all its thoughts. Void of all the people.

The air smells different. It smells lighter. It smells darker. It smells calmer.

It is a time when all the little creatures roam. Millipedes and cockroaches crawl freely without being afraid of getting killed by murderous kids. Cats fight and screech without being afraid of exposing their lack of modesty. Fishes relax without being pressured to show off their graceful swimming.

I wonder.

How long this will last?

What would the walls and empty tutorial rooms feel?

What do the security guards on night duty see?

Do they communicate with the little creatures and the invisible guardians?

Sometimes. We miss out these little details of our school. We only think about how dumb is the school management, how ugly are the yellow walls, how unjust is the teacher, how boring are our friends.

We forget what makes our school. The humble concrete, the quiet friendships, the friendly canteen holders and the caring teachers.

If only we take a moment to listen. We take a moment to feel the unseen. To appreciate the beauty.

Our time here can excruciatingly long or dreadfully short.

What do want this place to be? What do we wish to see and feel ten years later when we come back to eat at the same Chinese Delights, when we come back to poop at our favourite toilet, when we see the opening of yet another Bagus, when see the faces of our slightly more wrinkled teachers and slightly more matured friends?

What does this place mean to me?

I remember the one day when I was so tired after running and a fellow junior who I didn't know of offered me a drink.

I remember the day when I transported wooden pallets to school from factories far far away with my friends.

I remember the pain, the frustration, the bonds, the dreams and the friendships.

This night.

I sit alone reminiscing all the moments, the conversations, the crushes, the hopes and the dreams created in this place.

The school at night.

Sometimes we can only see when it is empty.