Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 12 | Page 75

Anger overwhelmed me. How dare he listen to the secret plans of soldiers without permission! Without
thinking, I opened the door and tackled him, grabbing his notebook, screaming. His reflexes are extremely fast,
almost immediately he produced a knife, wickedly sharp and curved at the edges, spare hand grabbing my arm.
The soldiers inside must have heard me scream, but why are they not coming out? Do they even care about me,
about anyone?
That few seconds of distraction made me pay dearly. The man raised his knife and brought it down in a flash,
making a deep cut on my arm. Blood oozed out. But that also made my senses go on high alert. Once more, I
wondered if soldiers even care about a child getting slaughtered, if they don’t, that left me no choice but to fight. I
screamed some more, only to be cut short when he clamped a hand around my mouth. Seeing no choice, I bit
him. I felt satisfied as my teeth cut through his flesh. Sweet revenge! His face grimaced and his grip on my arm
loosened, I struggled free and raced for the corridor door, but I barely went a few steps before he caught up with
me again, pulling me back.
I had almost given up hope when the door flew open. Approximately twenty soldiers rushed out, some
disarming the man, some pinning him on the wall, and a few rushed to me. When they asked me what happened,
I told them everything, how I survived the explosion, how mama was wounded, how I came here to ask about
papa who’s a soldier and how I hated wars because that was the reason why my family is ripped apart. The Captain
asked me for papa’s name. I told him.
The Captain then contacted papa and said that he could come back and visit mama. After that, he negotiated
with the Major to see if papa could stay home. Thankfully, the Major said yes. Soon, papa and I went to see
mama. The doctors said that she couldn’t survive much longer, that she’s been holding her last breath to see us,
that she has lost too much blood.
As we watched her, helpless, she opened her eyes with a struggle and fixed them on me. “Jade,” mama said,
“Promise me that you’ll live a good life, a meaningful life. “
I bit back a sob, “I promise.”