Do you have a dream? I did. Now I'm a prosaic girl without prowess to chase my dream. But I did endeavor for it when I was 13. At that time I was a fatty, dizzy girl who thought nothing but happy for no reason all day long. I'd never contemplated about what my life would be. However, no matter how thoughtlessness I was, I did have a dream. I was desperate for being an announcer, the occupation which was strongly opposed by my mother who wanted me to be a teacher. In order to persuade my mother to send me to an announcer's training school , I began to use my mind the very first time. My mum requested me to promote my grade. I was insomuch that I used all my spare time to recite English words, to do Math exercise or to review Chemistry equation. I even use mint flavor eyedrops in case of falling asleep at class. Thank goodness, my grade soared up, and my mum finally agreed to pay for my tuition fees. I was happy to die when I first joined the course, for it seemed that I was nearer to my dream. However, when I found my classmates were all trendy beauty in good-shaped, my heart sank. Compared to them, I just like a loutish rustic. "The journalistic writing class is held at 201." One of those pretty came out and said, with wondering eyes and disparaging smile. I knew I'm not welcomed by the class.Yet I was a recalcitrant girl that time. I ignored their contemptuous whisper and jeer, only devoted to the course itself. I opined that I would realize my aspiration with painstaking effort. One day, after the course, the teacher asked me to have a talk. "You see, most of announcers aregood-looking people,right?" She said in a gentle voice. "Though they do have some that is not looking gorgeously , but what they pay is unimaginable. So..." She looked in my eyes, tried to be euphemistic, "You do have beautiful voice, darling, but you can't be an announcer only with it. Maybe you need consider more about the elements of being an announcer." I stood transfixed. The classroom was hot enough to make dog stick tongue out, but I felt like I'm on the centre of Antarctica. "The journalistic writing class is still recruiting. You are assiduous girl, and I believe you will be a wonderful journalist." She handed me a piece of introduction. I stared at the papery paper without looking at it. My mind was blank. I've just been refused by my dream. My dream is dream. I suddenly woke up. Though I still don't have the impetus to chase my dream. Or even, I don't have a dream. I have target.