Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020 | Page 58
Fiction – Group 4
We all Need to Grow
Carmel School – Elsa High School, Apelbaum, Mia – 15
“Make more money, work harder, you’re late”, it’s 8:00 am and those are the only words
I’ve heard today. I don’t even get a simple hello, but I guess that’s how it works. No one
cares, not about me, not about the people around them, they only care about one thing,
money. People say the Greater Bay Area is the best thing that could happen to us. Now, we
are one of the strongest economic areas in the whole world, but it feels more like a soulless
factory. No one knows anything about me, they don’t know my name, they don’t know what
I enjoy, all they know is money. My life was not meant to be like this; my life was meant to
have purpose.
It’s 12:02 pm and no one has said anything to me, not even a hello. The only person that
spoke to me was the new intern asking about the cafeteria. But it’s alright. I have a reason
for this soulless life I live; they say it’s what’s best for our country, this is the life I chose for
myself. I keep working, throwing everything I have at my computer, watching the little lines
moving up and down. My eyes slowly burn as I reach my tenth hour of work. I was meant
to finish work at 5:00 pm, but the markets began moving again, and my boss’s words were
constantly ringing in my ears, “make more money, work harder.” It was like an anthem that
played on repeat in my mind. I wanted to leave. I had a better life planned for myself but
instead, I became a machine, a money machine. Once I lost her, I had nothing but my job,
it was my escape, but now it feels like the opposite. It’s 9:00 pm and I have finally finished
work. I leave my office, no one says goodbye. All I hear is Xing, the intern, badgering
me with more useless questions. But I have learned, I have learned how to only focus on
my work so I drown out the useless noise coming out of his mouth and I continue on my
journey home.
I take the metro for exactly 46 minutes on the green line. By 10:00 pm, I arrive at my
station. I walk out the station buy a snack and head on my journey home. By 10:08 pm, I
am walking the 12 minute journey home. It’s dark. The wind whistles in the distance and a
shiver is sent through my spine. It’s been colder lately; still humid but cooler. I walk staring
at the ground. I’d know this route with my eyes closed, it’s the same route I have walked
for the last three years. I continue walking along the narrow road. I am almost home when,
suddenly, I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder. The tap sends tiny little pulsating movements
through my body; I jump back in fear. This is a quiet neighborhood, so this tap startles me,
I’ve never seen anyone out at this time of night. I fling my body in a fight or flight response
and before I can see the person who tapped me, they disappear as if made of nothing, as if the
air had tapped me. All I see is a single pink chrysanthemum lying on the floor. They used to
be her favorite flower but that was a long time ago. This startles me; a pink chrysanthemum
is one of the rarest flowers in this area. I tell myself that it’s been a long day, and I am tired.
I just need to get home and sleep. I get home, it’s 10:20 pm and I fall asleep by 11:02 pm.
Today is a Tuesday, I get to work at 8:05 am still not good enough for my boss. As usual
I get the exact same words thrown at me. “Make more money, work harder, you’re late
again”. The day continues to drag with each hour passing my eyes getting ever so weary and
my body slowly giving in to the exhaustion. At 1:04 pm I get my lunch, a cold turkey and
cheese sandwich. I continue to work pouring all I have into my computer. It’s 9:00 pm and
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