Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 418

The New Tales of Old Shanghai
Singapore International School (Hong Kong), Hui, Katy Sum Wing – 10
F
ire and smoke.
Embers sparking in the neighbouring building.
What was going on?
This had been happening for a few days now. The bombings. Each time one hit, it always seemed to be
pinpointing a certain group of refugees.
The first one hit a Japanese café.
The second hit the Russian refugee hospital.
The third hit a loud and noisy bar where the Jews often drunk themselves into a frenzy.
And the latest fourth one.
On the public school for natives Shanghai citizens.
Why?
My guess was that whoever was doing this, they were purposely targeting the different races, maybe to simply
cause destuction. But that brings in another question. What race were they?
I sighed. This was confusing. The answers were evading me.
“Honey, the building’s on fire! We’ve got to evacuate!” mother yelled nervously, peeking over the stair railing.
I quickly grabbed my small case of important belongings and followed her. The smoke was getting dense.
I was just the slightest bit fearful, despite knowing the fire would soon die out as there was no wood to fuel the fire.
We had no furniture, just thin rugs to sleep on. I coughed a little, choking on the smoke.
Unexpectedly, another two bombs hit in various parts on my hometown right then and there, and set off another
few bombs. And just like that, a chain of bombs were set off.
So far the bombs had hit on regular intervals. But now, they were doing this on a big scale. Eradicating crucial
government buildings.
“Boom!” another bomb hit, sending the museum into flames.
Panic rose like a wave inside. I was starting to get scared. My neighbors. My relatives. My friends. Were they hurt?
What was happening? The previous bombs had done next to no damage. But now, they were causing so much
devastation.
Smoke was all I could see, clouding my vision. I tried to dodge the burning debris, but a scrap of burning metal
embedded itself into my arm. I bit back the impulse to scream. The pain! I collapsed, unable to bear the torture. I
alleviated the pain by wrapping a strip of cloth I had ripped off around my arm, where the wound was. I saw
people all around me, slaughtered by if not the explosion, burning debris and smoke. All around, there was
destuction. No.
They were demolishing everything. Important monuments were abolished. Important symbols of people were
being destroyed. But who were they? Why were they doing this?
I looked up. There was a large helicopter above it. Bearing all different colours of flags. Ah, that explained the
origin of these bombers. They were multi-race.
I heard a voice. It seemed to project from all helicopters.
“Attention, all citizens of Shanghai. We have come, in need of labourers, soldiers for our countries. I am a nazi
General, General Fegelein. And with me is Japanese sea admiral, Admiral Nazaoki. As you shall know, war has
devastated our countries. You shall be our slaves. Submit a hundred labourers, food, and resources,or the items
shall be forcefully taken.”He let the words sink in.
Anger bubbled in me. We were a humble country, with barely any resources, and most of the city living in
poverty. Why did they want us?
The answer came to me, seemingly naturally.
People of all raes were here.This would appear to be a very convenient place for them to get slaves.
I laughed scornfully. Important generals needing humble slaves.