Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 218

Finally after many moments of sweating fingers we were at the door, the door to freedom. We looked at each other,
I pushed open the door, then there was a cry. Immediately the run started. We weaved through blankets on the
street, past men selling freshly made pancakes, past the clothes up for drying but blocking our way significantly. We
were causing a massive disturbance in the community but we could not care, we just ran and oh did we run.
Our legs were burning with sheer exhaustion, but my companion and I were driven on by the endless torture that
would lie ahead if we failed to outpace our tail. Up ahead was a marsh, a dead end surely but I powered on in case
it provided a refuge for hiding. Our pursuers were tailing behind now growing more distant. Then I heard the fatal
crack and my companion who I never knew the name of, sank to the ground like a balloon just deflated. I bent
down, anxiously glancing at the incoming pursuers as I did so. His face was deathly white like a star in the orange sky
hanging over us. “Run and avenge me,” he rasped. “Find the descrabble !” and with that he turned stone cold and
the life drained out of him like a sand timer. I was suddenly thrust back into reality and the ever resounding footsteps
urged me on. I was out of there like lightening with the strange request ever on my mind.
Half an hour later under the glare of the floodlights I was back at my humble “home”, but I could not get the
thought of the dying man’s wish out of my head. That was the beginning of my adventure.