Top 5 Short Story Writing Essays with Practical Impact on Today's Youth

One day, the colors of the world began debating which one was the most beautiful, important, useful, and beloved. First, Green said:

- I am the most important. I represent life and hope. I color the trees, plants, and flowers. Without me, all living things on earth would cease to exist. Just look at the fields, and you’ll see the vast green of my color.

Blue interrupted:

- No, I am the most important. Think about Earth. Consider the sky and the oceans. Water is the most essential source of life, created by clouds formed from vast seas. Moreover, the sky offers space, peace, and calm.

Yellow laughed:

- You guys are overthinking it. I’m more practical. I bring joy, happiness, and warmth to the world. The sun is yellow, the moon is yellow, and so are the stars. Every time you see a sunflower, it feels like the whole world is smiling. Without me, there would be no joy in the world.

Orange, not to be outdone, spoke up:

- I’m the color of health and strength. Although my color isn’t as prevalent as yours, I’m the most valuable. I’m essential to life. I provide most of the vitamins, like carrots, oranges, mangoes, pumpkins, and papayas. I may not appear much, but at dawn or sunset, my color is everywhere. Can any of you match that beauty?

Red couldn’t keep quiet either:

- I represent blood, life. I’m the color of danger, but also courage. I bring fire to humanity. I fight for noble causes. Without me, Earth would be as empty as the moon. I’m the color of love and passion, of red roses and poppies.

Purple started to speak up, adding its voice:

- I symbolize power and loyalty. Kings and queens often choose me because I represent authority and excellence. No one dares to question me. They only follow orders and execute them.

Finally, Indigo spoke up, quietly but decisively:

- Think of me. I’m the color of silence, often unnoticed. But without me, all of you would only be external beauty. I represent thought and contrast, the dawn and the depths of the sea. You need me to balance your outward appearance. I’m the inner beauty.

And so the colors continued to argue, each trying to prove its superiority. Suddenly, a bright flash of lightning illuminated the sky, thunder roared, and rain began to fall heavily. The colors huddled together for warmth. The rain, with authority, said:

- You’re all foolish to fight amongst yourselves. Don’t you know that each of you was created for a special purpose? You are all magnificent, each in your own way. The world would be dull without any one of you. Now, hold hands and come with me.

The colors joined together, creating a beautiful spectrum. The rain continued:

- From now on, every time it rains, you will rise to the sky with your unique colors, forming a circle to remind everyone that you must live in harmony. We will call it a rainbow. The rainbow symbolizes hope for tomorrow.

And so, every time it rains and the world is cleansed, a rainbow will appear in the sky, beautifying the world and reminding us to always respect one another.

Throughout life, people inevitably make mistakes. However, if we recognize and learn from them, these mistakes can become valuable lessons. It is through our errors that we grow and mature.

I was once a mischievous boy, uninterested in studies, but deeply fascinated by video games. Since we didn’t have a computer at home, I would often go to an internet café with friends on weekends. When we were in front of the screen, nothing else seemed to matter.

One evening, I vividly remember a particular incident. It was a Monday, and while studying, my mind kept wandering back to the game I had played the previous day with my close friend, Long. Like me, Long was also obsessed with gaming. After school, we had spent hours trying to outdo each other in a video game, but neither of us could claim victory. The competition had ended in a draw, but I couldn’t accept that. I thought, 'No, I need to practice more and win to show Long who’s the better player.'

Inspiration struck. I quickly went downstairs and told my mom:

- Mom! This math problem is really tough. Can I go to Long’s house to ask for help?

Mom, seeing my sudden eagerness to study, was delighted and gave me permission, asking me to return soon. I ran off, heading towards Long’s house just a few blocks away. When I got there, I found his parents weren’t home, so we headed straight to the internet café. We picked a good spot and began our gaming battle. It was exciting, much more so than any schoolwork. Time flew by, and we kept playing without noticing the hours pass.

Suddenly, a hand tapped me on the shoulder, and I jumped. It was the café owner, who pointed to the clock, saying:

- Time’s up, kid! It’s already past 11:30.

I looked around and realized Long had left earlier, having gotten tired of losing. I was the only one left, lost in the game. Suddenly, I thought about my parents and panic set in. I rushed to pay for the game and ran home.

The street was eerily quiet, and as I walked, I couldn't stop worrying. Then, out of nowhere, a motorbike pulled up beside me, and I heard my dad's calm but stern voice:

- Hoang, get on the bike!

My knees went weak. I froze and stammered:

- Dad… Dad… were you looking for me?

- Yes! Your mom said you went to Long’s house to study, but when you didn’t come back, I went to find you.

Although my dad's voice was steady, I could tell he was holding back anger. I felt a wave of dread wash over me. I mechanically climbed onto the bike, and as we drove home, I realized how much my mom must have been worried. When we arrived, I saw her waiting for me, clearly anxious. I felt deeply guilty. I apologized to both of them and explained what had happened. My dad then said:

- It’s natural for young people to want to compete with their friends. There’s nothing wrong with that. But lying to your mom just to go play is wrong. Playing video games isn’t the problem; it’s excessive gaming that harms your health and studies. I hope you’ll be more mindful from now on.

Hearing my dad’s words, I felt truly remorseful. Before, I had feared the usual punishment, but this time, my dad didn’t scold or hit me. His gentle yet firm advice made me realize a profound lesson. I was no longer the carefree child I once was, and my parents had stopped disciplining me with physical punishment. Their thoughtful guidance helped me understand what it means to live more responsibly.

Hung woke up with a start as the blaring sound of the alarm clock filled the room. Another day, another school morning. He groaned, annoyed at the thought of getting up. As the only son in the family, Hung was spoiled by his parents, which made him even more mischievous. Whatever Hung wanted, his parents had to comply—otherwise, he would threaten to harm himself.

Hung wasn’t completely beyond help, but he was far from an angel. He worked hard only in the subjects he liked, and any subject he didn’t care about, he would ignore. If a teacher pushed him, he made sure they regretted it. There were several literature teachers who had left his class in tears because of him.

Hung hopped on the brand-new electric bike his parents had just bought him. While riding down the street, weaving through traffic, he heard a voice calling from behind.

– Hey, Tit, wait up!

Hung turned his head to see a girl riding a faded pink bike, looking out of place with her old-fashioned braided hair. Hung ignored her, speeding ahead. When he reached the traffic light and saw no one around, he zoomed right through it. The girl caught up to him, but as soon as she was close, he sped through another red light.

– You’re really impossible.

– The girl muttered, shaking her head.

That was Huyen, Hung's childhood friend. Huyen knew all of Hung's secrets, from when he wet the bed in second grade to when he was still sneaking peeks at his mother’s chest in sixth grade. So by the time they reached eighth grade, Hung began avoiding her to escape her teasing. Moreover, Hung disliked people who talked too much. He told Huyen she was just like his mother—always nagging about what he should and shouldn’t do. It was exhausting.

– Hey, Tit, wait up!

Huyen parked her bike and chased after him.

– Why do you always ignore me when I call you?

– I’m not Tit, – Hung responded.

– How can you say that? Everyone in the neighborhood has always called you Tit. You used to respond to it just fine.

– That was then, this is now. Can’t you see I’ve grown up and become very handsome? I’m Hung. My name’s Hung. Got it?

– Fine, Hung. But why don’t you wear a helmet when riding? You know it’s dangerous, right? I keep telling you this every day, and you never listen. And now you’ve run a red light again. Do you know...

Before Huyen could finish, Hung turned around, pushing her against a wall. He raised his hand in front of her face and leaned in close:

– Have you said enough? You repeat the same things every day. Aren’t you tired? I don’t wear a helmet. Do you think these thin, flimsy helmets actually protect you, or are they just for show to fool the police? I ran the red light. Did you see anyone else on the street? No one was around, so why stop? And from now on, don’t follow me anymore.

Hung let go of her and walked away. Huyen called out after him:

– You stubborn, rebellious boy. Fine, I won’t follow you anymore. I won’t remind you either. If it weren’t for your mother asking me to look out for you, I’d have left you to your own devices long ago. Whatever happens to you, I won’t care.

Hung paused for a moment, raised his hand and gave a thumbs-up, then disappeared behind a school building. Huyen walked off in the opposite direction to her class.

Though Huyen was angry, she still cared for Hung, and Hung had grown used to it.

After school, Huyen ran after Hung again. In the afternoon, the street was empty, and Huyen saw Hung speeding through an intersection. She followed him, and after passing the intersection, she saw a crowd gathered. Hung was lying motionless on the ground, blood spilling from his head, and Huyen froze in terror. She rushed over, shouting for someone to take him to the hospital.

The hospital was quiet in the afternoon. Doctors were inside, treating Hung. His parents and Huyen sat outside the emergency room, waiting. Huyen held Hung's mother’s hand, trying to comfort her. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. He’ll wake up soon.”

The next day, Hung woke up. He was out of immediate danger and moved to the recovery room. Even in this state, he still had a bad attitude toward Huyen.

– Mom, I’m fine. Tell that country bumpkin to go home. I can’t stand looking at her.

His mother scolded him immediately.

– Hung! You shouldn’t speak about your friend like that. Don’t you know that it was Huyen who brought you to the hospital? She informed us of your condition, and it was Huyen who gave you blood when neither your father nor I had the right blood type. Without her, you might not even be here to complain.

Hung looked at Huyen, his eyes full of guilt. But his stubborn, rebellious nature didn’t disappear.

– Still, those braids of yours are so old-fashioned.

Huyen laughed through her tears. Even though her blood ran through Hung’s veins, he was still the same old Hung.

One week later, Hung was discharged from the hospital and went back to school. That day, he didn’t complain about having to go to school; instead, he was happy to go. As he rode down the road, he heard a familiar voice behind him.

– Hey, Tit, wait up!

Hung slammed on the brakes and turned around.

– I remember wearing my helmet this time.

– I can see that. I’m not blind.

– Then why call me?

– Just to go to school together. It’ll be fun.

– What a pain.

Hung said, then rode off slowly with Huyen, no longer speeding like he used to. It seemed that the once reckless boy had started to fear.

My father always taught me that everyone we meet in life, in some way or another, we were destined to cross paths, become acquainted, and grow closer. All of this is part of a debt we owe each other from past lives. It wasn't until I turned fifteen that I truly understood my father's words.

Originally, I was from a small town, living a peaceful life. My childhood, like many others in a rural mountainous village, was filled with scorching summer afternoons by the river, and the sweet scent of fields after harvest on clear, sunny days. I once thought that my entire life would be tied to this place. But fate had other plans, and at the age of fifteen, I became a student at Nguyễn Tất Thành school in Hanoi, which meant leaving my tranquil village for the bustling capital. It was a huge surprise to me, and with my mild demeanor inherited from my father and the introversion from my mother, the thought of leaving my family filled me with unease and worry.

- "No! This will be a new opportunity. That place will definitely offer me a better environment!" I reassured myself.

My father sat beside me, comforting me and advising:

- "In no time, you'll make many new friends. Make sure to fit in quickly and focus on your studies!"

My mother also encouraged me:

- "It'll be alright, you'll be closer to your grandmother there."

Even though I tried to think positively, my feelings remained unsettled. I hoped each day would stretch a little longer, holding onto lingering regrets about leaving.

The day came for me to start school, and I couldn't quite express my emotions. I had no idea how to feel confident enough to begin making new connections.

"I'll just go with the flow and hope things go well," I reassured myself before heading to the class assignment board.

- "Oh! Class 10D2. The number 2 is lucky! I hope for the best, this will be an interesting class."

The next morning, I went to find my class, feeling a bit more at ease than before, as the bright weather seemed to signal that something good was about to happen.

The school bell rang with a loud clang: "Tùng… tùng… tùng...". I hurried up the last few steps toward the classroom, where in just a few seconds, I would officially be a member. When I entered the classroom, I saw many students had already arrived, and I found a seat at the front. Everyone was speaking softly, likely because, like me, they didn't know many people in the class.

- "Hey! Can I sit here?" A girl approached me.

- "Sure, go ahead! No one’s sitting there." I invited her to sit with a friendly smile, thinking she would be the first friend I made in class. Just as I was feeling pleased, the teacher walked in. She was probably the homeroom teacher.

- "Hello everyone, I'm your homeroom teacher. My name is Thanh. First, let’s arrange your seats," she said with warmth.

According to her arrangement, I moved to the last row, sitting next to the tallest boy in the class. He was nearly a head taller than me, and honestly, I felt a little self-conscious standing next to him. However, I was comforted by the fact that the girl from earlier was sitting in front of me.

- "Looks like we’re sitting near each other again," I called to her.

She smiled brightly at me, and I immediately felt a weight lifted off my shoulders, all the anxiety and tension of the past few days seemed to vanish. It turned out that making new friends in a new environment wasn't as hard as I had imagined.

Over a few days, I became close with the girl. Her name was Diệu Trinh, and she came from the beautiful coastal town of Vũng Tàu. An interesting coincidence brought us closer—on our second day, both of us were late and ended up being punished with a light detention after class. Afterward, to my surprise, we realized we lived near each other, and we hit it off talking about everything from music and comics to stories of our hometowns. As the days went by, the class became livelier as everyone began to bond.

As part of the school’s tradition, the tenth grade students participated in a week-long military training course, which also served as an opportunity to bond and connect with one another. It was a meaningful experience for all of us. Before we left, everything was packed and ready for the trip. I couldn't wait for the military camp to help me make more friends.

The weather was rainy and unfavorable that day, but after a long wait, our bus finally arrived. We quickly unloaded our bags and found our seats. After about an hour, we reached our destination. I was amazed by the military uniforms and the bunk beds—they were quite impressive. But what intrigued me most was the "service shower rooms," where up to four or five people could wait in line together. It was during these times that I became close to a new friend named Lan Nhi. Nhi, Trinh, and I became inseparable. During hot evenings, the three of us would lay out mats and talk, going everywhere together. The group activities fostered a bond among us that felt so natural.

Time passed quickly, and before I knew it, the seventh day arrived, and it was time to leave. On the ride back, I felt a mix of nostalgia for the place that had captured a part of my heart and joy for having found true friends to share the journey ahead.

From that moment, our friendship blossomed. We grew closer as though fate had destined us to be together. I remember reading a quote once: "Friendship is love without wings." I liked this comparison because none of us had wings, yet we would always be the best of friends. I felt like we were like a kite and the wind—always gently intertwined, lifting each other up. Our friendship was simple yet enduring, and we truly understood each other. This helped me adapt to the new school environment and made my learning experience smoother. We shared, supported, and encouraged each other, growing stronger and more mature every day...

Looking back to the first day I came to class, terrified of the loneliness and unfamiliarity, I now realize I'm no longer alone. I've gained one of the most precious assets of all—the beautiful friendships of school days. A friendship that was nurtured not by time, but by understanding and empathy, shared through experiences both in life and in class. I recall my father’s words again: "Everyone we meet in life, somehow, is connected to us from past lives." Perhaps Trinh, Nhi, and I are also indebted to each other—a wonderful bond that transcends time.