Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020 | Page 32

Fiction – Group 3
Sky and Moon
Carmel School – Elsa High School, Gefen, Ella – 13
“It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair,” I cried. “I don’t want to move to the stupid JBA.”
“GBA,” said Mommy. “It stands for the Greater Bay Area. We have to move to
Dongguan because a government entity hired me to work with them on a hi-tech
manufacturing project.”
I don’t know what that means but my sister, Olivia, nods. We were sitting in our house in
Alaska which we would have to leave to live in some place called Donwa.
“Why can’t they ask other people?” I whine.
“Because Mommy is very good at her job,” says Daddy as though he’s explaining
something to a little kid. But I’m not a little kid anymore; I’m five and a half years old. I can
go on the swings all by myself, climb on the tallest climbing frame and slide on the longest
slide in David-Green Park and I’m not even scared. But now I won’t be able to go there
because we have to move to Donwa.
I hear muffled voices but I don’t listen to what their saying; instead I watch the moon.
Why did we have to move? I like it in Alaska: I have friends, a nice house, a fun playground;
in Donwa I have nothing.
Soon, our house was empty; everything was packed into boxes, the boxes were gone.
When the plane took off, my ears hurt; I think my ears missed home. During the ride to our
new house, I look up at the sky and see the moon. I don’t understand why the moon keeps
moving; it should just pick it’s favorite place and stay there.
***
“Henryyyyyyy! We have to go!” I hear Olivia shout from the living-room. Today is my
first day of kindergarten; I’m very excited.
Olivia drops me off in my classroom which is plastered with colourful paper and
drawings; they match my superhero backpack.
“Nihao,” says the teacher. “Huanying lai dao youeryuan.” A look of confusion crosses
my face.
“Ohhh. You is new English student?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m Zhao Laoshi. What’s your name?”
“Henry.” She led me to the other side of the room and introduced me to a smiling lady.
“Hi, Henry,” she said. “I’m Chen Laoshi, your Cantonese tutor.”
I look around and saw that most of the kids are sitting on the circular carpet; I sit down
next to a kid and say, “Hi. I’m Henry.” He doesn’t respond but turns to the kid on his other
side and starts talking in Cantonese.
Soon, Zhao Laoshi tells everyone to sit down. She talks in Cantonese and Chen Laoshi
translates but it’s hard to keep up. Is it going to be like everyday? What if I don’t make any
friends? I’ll be all alone.
That evening Mommy asked, “How was your day?”
“Bad,” I say moodily. “I made no friends. Cantonese is so confusing.”
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