Eight teenagers dressed in their different school uniforms,

They almost form a horizontal rainbow.

Six have backpacks on them while two

Seem to have already dropped it off.

One of them has a white Champions League football in his hand

And another carries two orange cones in each hand.

The boys cross the road, filled with buses and cars and fellow students both older and younger,

And face an expansive patch of green, brown, and blue.

The brown, muddy ground houses a cornucopia of towering trees.

Encircling the pitch is the Singapore reservoir with its lush blue water.

Harry, a tall and lanky boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, 

Is the first to step onto the pitch.

“Were you able to talk to your parents?” one of us asks.

“No” he replies in a hush tone.

Last he told us his parents had just moved to France. Or was it Costa Rica?

No one really knows, Harry included.

Left with his grandmother here, the poor boy has not seen his parents in years.

He has sent calls after calls but to no avail.

Still, on this pitch, he does not give away the slightest hints of loneliness or despondency.

As we enter the pitch and set up the playing perimeter, he is seen in one of two positions.

Either he is on the ground laughing his heart out or 

He is running around in circles being chased by one of us 

Whom he decided to banter incessantly.

More often than not, on the receiving end of Harry’s mischiefs is Chris.

Overworked and tired, Chris is a zombie for the majority of the day.

He is to follow in the footsteps of an overachieving older brother.

Clubs at school, tutoring during the lunchtime, and sky-high academic 

Expectations from his parents all add up to make for an extremely demanding lifestyle.

Timid and unsociable in school, Chris is a polar opposite on this pitch.

“Please stop talking for just one second” and “Are you finally done?”

Are phrases Chris is often subject to.

Still, he continues to talk and talk and talk.

If only the Chris on the pitch was anything like the Chris during the school day that

We might get some peace.

Callum is the most patient with Chris.

After all, he has the most experience dealing with people our age.

The oldest of us and the one with the most responsibilities, Callum has 

Five younger siblings to look after.

Both his parents work day and night and are what one would call ‘workaholics.’

As a result, with him being the oldest sibling, he is automatically put in charge.

Attending parent-teacher meetings, ensuring his siblings are well-fed, and

Getting them to complete their school work are all tasks he routinely performs.

The dark circles under his eyes and the constant yawning capture his exhaustion.

Not on the pitch, though.

Radiating with energy and alive in the moment,

Callum is always the one handing out motivational speeches

And uplifting all of our moods.

The pitch is a safe haven where

All of us can be who we want to be.

Not who we are told to be or are made to be

But the version of us that puts a smile on our faces.

No wonder we come back every single day

And have been doing so for as long as our memory stretches back.

Something tells me I won’t be stopping anytime soon.