Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 556

Old Shanghai
Yew Chung International School, Reid, Hannah – 10
I
t had started raining. I ran through the streets of old Shanghai. It was late at night. No one was around. There
was only one restaurant open at that time of evening. That particular restaurant, was very old. No one knows
why, or how it was built. No one knows who built it either.
I entered the restaurant. People’s heads turned, and everything went quiet. People were staring. The wooden
floorboards underneath me creaked as I walked step by step. I sat down next to an old lady who seemed to be
sleeping.
A waitress approached me and handed me a cup of warm water. I took a small sip and my toes started to tingle as
they soaked in water from my wet shoes. The tingling sensation continued up my legs. Up my arms and up the
rest of my body. I closed my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. I started to disappear…
A few seconds later I opened my eyes. I was still sitting down. In the same chair. With the same cup in front of
me…
But 50 years later.
I ran out of the doors. The once old and dark streets were now modern and populated. I couldn’t help but wonder,
was this still Shanghai?
It wasn’t Shanghai...
I started to panic. How did I get here? Could I get back home? Why did this happen? I carried on walking and
stopped. Someone was standing in the crowd of people. It wasn’t just any random person. It was the old lady from
the restaurant. She stared. She walked closer and closer to me. The lady looked at me. I looked back at her.
The lady grabbed my arm and we were transported into a completely different place. The old lady handed me
some money and told me to use it wisely. Apparently I couldn’t get back to old Shanghai just by drinking another
cup of water. And there was no chance of me going back with the old lady. She just simply, disappeared.
I took a modern - day vehicle called a taxi. The old woman had instructed me to go directly to somewhere called
‘ the airport ‘. Sure enough, when I arrived, the old lady was there. She instructed me to buy a ticket for an
airplane ride to Shanghai.
But the old lady was gone by the time I got on the plane. I closed my eyes.
My head hit the back of a chair and woke me up. All of a sudden, I was back in the old restaurant, back in old
Shanghai. I was still sitting down. In the same chair. With the same cup in front of me.
Was it a dream? Was it real? I couldn’t tell.