Short Story 37: I Am a Timetable
Short Story 37: I Am a Timetable
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I’m not just a piece of paper—I am a timetable. A trusted guide, printed with proud letters: “Class Schedule – 5 Intan.” From Monday Math to Friday PE, I bring order to chaos.
I once hung proudly on the classroom wall, always in sight. But everything changed when Damia arrived. She was the new girl—quiet, reserved, often alone. One morning, she took me down and slipped me into her notebook. I didn’t mind. In fact, I felt chosen.
Damia read me every day. She scribbled notes on my edges: “Wednesday – wear sports shoes!” or “Tuesday – Science test!” Slowly, I watched her confidence grow. She smiled more. She remembered things. She began to shine—and I knew I had helped.
Then came the rain.
One stormy afternoon, Damia slipped while rushing to the school gate. She was badly hurt and didn’t come back for days. Her school bag, soaked and forgotten, stayed in class. I lay there, wet and limp, until Mr. Azlan found me. He dried me gently and hung me back on the wall.
Without Damia, the classroom felt different. The other students glanced at me now and then, but no one wrote little notes or whispered secrets. I missed her.
Then, a week later, Damia returned—limping with a cane but smiling. She walked up, touched my corner, and whispered, “Hello, my timetable.” I wanted to hug her, but I’m only paper.
That day, I understood something big. Even if I’m just a sheet of paper, I matter. I was part of someone’s journey—her courage, her memory, her friendship.
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📝 Sometimes, the smallest things can carry the biggest stories.
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By: Siti Isah Ithnin



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