Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020 | Page 40

Fiction – Group 3
Future Adventures of the Greater
Bay Area
Island School, Chow, Tiffany – 13
“Daddy?”
“Hm?”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing, just some riots.” He answered with a grumble and turned away to do
something else- probably planning something else to get rid of the protests again.
Today marks the second decade since New Cantonesia was created- The Greater Bay
Area, made from a combination of the best of China, Macau, and Hong Kong. At least what
was best of them at least. And the people are outraged.
It didn’t help that the anniversary of the Massening was just a few days ago- It only
happened a mere 2 years after all, and people were still mourning over the loss. Since then the
government- lead by my parents- has prohibited going out of New Cantonesia at all with the
reason being that all there is outside was just barren wastelands filled with radioactive decay
left from the Massening.
The Massening.
I mumbled to myself, the words rolling around my tongue like a marble until I finally
spit it out.
From the balcony, the people outside looked like tiny ants as they came pouring onto the
streets in waves after waves, with no end in sight.
They yell deluges of abuse; smash, destroy, and vandalise government buildings; and
scream profanity at the peacekeepers.
I understand their anger; I really do. And I want to sympathize with them.
But I can’t.
I scold myself for even thinking for a second about sympathizing with the rioters. It is not
perfect, and I must be perfect.
And so must New Cantonesia be.
The rioters are not good people. They are not perfect. They do not follow the rules.
Rules make things perfect and they make everyone happy yet the rioters are trying to
sabotage them.
I cannot throw down my duty as the role model of perfection.
The big wall guarding our house comes down with our crash and the people instantly swell
forward into the garden, trampling across our perfect plants, and ruining our perfect layout.
Almost instantly, cannon equipped tanks vehicle roared into the garden along with a
surge of peacekeepers.
There are shouts all around me. Surrounding me, roaring with blind rage, swallowing me
whole. I curl up against the cold, dreary wall of the house and cover my ears to protect them
against the imperfect, infuriating sounds.
The peacekeepers were certainly outnumbered with the protestors, but unlike them, the
peacekeepers did have access to the most advanced technology, and could easily take down
the rioters.
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