Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 416

The New Tales of Old Shanghai
Singapore International School (Hong Kong), Fok, Alicia – 11
S
hanghai. That’s where I live. My whole life has been here. From the day that I was born until now, 1931. I
guess it’s not big here, but I like it. This is my home.
Most people here speak Chinese, but I don’t. I only know the basics, since my parents thought it would be
useless. I’m American. I really don’t know why, but I’m living here.
I’m only 13 this year, but I’ve experienced quite a lot. I was here when there was labour unrest. I was here
when there were strikes. Though I was only about six, the memory constantly burns through my mind.
My parent are quite rich… I guess. And also a little prejudiced. They think beggars and homeless people should
just die, it’s not like there is any importance to them anyways. Sometimes I agree with them, sometimes I don’t.
Most beggars sleep in the streets, without blankets. That’s really inconvenient to me, even though I’m just going
for a walk, I have to step over at least 20 beggars.
I strolled through the streets with my parents, seeing countless beggars. My parents stared at them with disgust,
whispering to each other with not even a blink in my direction. I slipped away, leaving my parents alone,
convinced they wouldn’t miss me.
I walked by myself for countless hours, without even a sign that my parents were worried. Sometimes, I just feel
like they don’t really care about me. Well… Having a family and a home is better than no family nor home… I
guess.
I saw the many beggars, huddled up in blankets… Some had no thick clothes even though it’s already winter
and minus 10 degrees. I felt ashamed, with my luxurious clothes and expensive possessions, while the beggars sat
on the street, wearing just a thin piece of cloth.
I walked and walked. I stopped. I saw something. At the end of the street, I saw a woman. A woman with a
baby that seemed to be no more than one year old. The baby seemed in bad condition. Extremely skinny. I
walked towards them since I had a feeling. And sometimes, it’s just better to follow your heart.
I reached the woman and her baby. I looked at her, and she looked at me. I slowly took off my fur coat and
handed it to her. She looked at me, surprised. I reached into my purse and pulled out a loaf of bread and a bottle of
water. I had been carrying these two things with me all the time for my own lunch. I handed the woman both the
bread and the water and she smiled at me gratefully.
“Thank you very much. I am very happy for you. I is Zi Xuan. My girl is Zi Ying,” the woman said with a
thick Chinese accent. Her English was not perfect, but it was already counted as excellent as we were in Shanghai.
“No problem,” I replied. “I have hundreds more of these coats, and I always have bread and water,” I
continued. The woman, Zi Xuan, just stared at me in awe. I blushed, realising how boastful that had sounded. I
mentally chided myself for talking about things so easily since to other people they could be a lifetime struggle.
I spotted my parents in the crowd and turned to Zi Xuan, waving a little good bye. I was frozen to the bone
now, impressed that even the beggars were wearing only a little bit, they could still cope with it. I reappeared
next to my parents and kept walking with them. They were still talking about beggars! I really couldn’t believe it.