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'The Fountain of Youth' memories flow like an unstoppable river
By Lian Xi Ru Beverly |
February 27, 2013, Wednesday
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SINGAPORE, the Lion City, is known for "The Fountain of Youth," the largest fountain in the world. As a Singaporean, it was natural that I went to see it.
Walking down the various halls in Suntec City, my family and I searched for the fountain. Once we had found the entrance, or exit, since it was outside, we scurried out to be hit with the loud roar of the water.
The fountain was a sight to behold with four towering pillars that leaned on a halo-like circle, which poured water out in small streams. It was painted a shade of red, the color dulled by the years. In the center was a small circle, water shooting out to the heavens, before falling back down. We walked towards it, our shoes tapping against the damp walkway.
As we stuck our hand towards the center of the fountain, we followed the group in front of us, walking around the fountain as the cool water flowed down our arms. The glaring rays of the sun did not affect us, the water cooling us instantly. Barely into our second round, a young child about eight years old slipped and fell past the railings, into the pressurized water.
A woman with long auburn hair, which was resting against her back in waves, screamed as she frantically tried to get the boy out, a panicked look marring her features. The tall man next to her quickly stuck his head through the railings, grasping around for the small child. Not a moment later, he pulled the boy out, holding him towards his chest dearly, not minding that his shirt was slowly getting wet.
The boy seemed fine, his dark chocolate hair plastered to his skin as he squealed in joy, eyes gleaming with delight. His assumed parents gave out a sigh of relief, before urging him to be more careful in the future. All the child did was nod his head, sending small droplets of water flying in all directions.
On the train ride back, the incident kept flashing before me. I wondered if it was a normal occurrence. I knew upon reflection this would be a moment I never forget.
Walking down the various halls in Suntec City, my family and I searched for the fountain. Once we had found the entrance, or exit, since it was outside, we scurried out to be hit with the loud roar of the water.
The fountain was a sight to behold with four towering pillars that leaned on a halo-like circle, which poured water out in small streams. It was painted a shade of red, the color dulled by the years. In the center was a small circle, water shooting out to the heavens, before falling back down. We walked towards it, our shoes tapping against the damp walkway.
As we stuck our hand towards the center of the fountain, we followed the group in front of us, walking around the fountain as the cool water flowed down our arms. The glaring rays of the sun did not affect us, the water cooling us instantly. Barely into our second round, a young child about eight years old slipped and fell past the railings, into the pressurized water.
A woman with long auburn hair, which was resting against her back in waves, screamed as she frantically tried to get the boy out, a panicked look marring her features. The tall man next to her quickly stuck his head through the railings, grasping around for the small child. Not a moment later, he pulled the boy out, holding him towards his chest dearly, not minding that his shirt was slowly getting wet.
The boy seemed fine, his dark chocolate hair plastered to his skin as he squealed in joy, eyes gleaming with delight. His assumed parents gave out a sigh of relief, before urging him to be more careful in the future. All the child did was nod his head, sending small droplets of water flying in all directions.
On the train ride back, the incident kept flashing before me. I wondered if it was a normal occurrence. I knew upon reflection this would be a moment I never forget.
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