Short Story 30: The Tragedy of a Matric Card
Short Story 30: The Tragedy of a Matric Card
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Inside a student’s wallet, I lay tucked between other cards. I was not just a piece of plastic—I was a matric card, a symbol of identity for a student navigating life in a boarding school.
I first belonged to Adam, a sixth-grade student who had just joined the school. On his first day, he gripped me tightly, knowing how important I was. Every time he entered the dining hall, library, or science lab, I had to be shown as proof of his status.
But one unfortunate day arrived. After coming back from sports practice, Adam realized something terrible—I was gone! He searched his bag, under his bed, and all around the dormitory, but I was nowhere to be found. His face turned pale, and his heartbeat raced.
Syarah, Adam’s best friend, tried to console him. “Let’s check around the school tomorrow. Maybe someone found it,” she said kindly.
That night, Adam barely slept. I, who had once been his pride, had disappeared without a trace. Without me, he couldn’t borrow books, enter certain areas, or prove his identity in school.
The next morning, Syarah helped Adam look for me all over—on the field, in the canteen, and in classrooms. After hours of searching, they finally found me—soaked and dirty, abandoned near a drain.
Adam picked me up with relief, carefully wiping away the dirt and drying me. I might have been just a simple card, but I had witnessed his struggles and challenges.
From that day on, he became more careful. I was always stored safely and never forgotten again. I was not just an identification card—I was a piece of his journey, a reminder of loss, fear, and the value of friendship.
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By : Siti Isah Ithnin



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