Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 380

The station was very packed for a new territories station. The marble floor clanked as we took our seats in the
somewhat empty train. I checked my phone and saw my friend, Sunny, asking where I was. I told her not to
worry and put down the phone.
The dark tunnels made me feel safe like no one could ever hear me up on the surface. I leaned against the
window, knocking my head a few times.
After 30 minutes, we reached Kowloon. The train reached a screeching halt and more people arrived on the
train. Their sweat was dripping down their cheeks and their shirts were drenched. I wondered how they survive
the heat of summer.
“Hi, Fiona,” I heard someone say. It was Leng. He was two years older than me and had dimples on his cheeks.
I met him in a friendly debating competition.
“Going to Hong Kong Island?”
“Yeah. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I am going to HKI as well.”
I chatted with him for a while. The dark tunnels were being dimly lit with ancient lighting, the walls scraped
with dirty muck that has accumulated for a long time. For some reason, I feel that people should look at the
world around them more before it all vanquishes into nothing.
We finally reached Hong Kong Island. “Where are we going again?”
Falkland replied, “We are going to the central base of the evergreens, or violent protestors as the government
says.”
We listened to some old Cantonese songs played by the bus driver as he sang the tune and I muted my cell phone
to shut off my mum’s calls.
It was past 5 already. People were all drowsy, some people snoring while other people were half-awake. There
were just lush green trees for a while before I saw the sprawling metropolis that was Hong Kong Island. There
were so many different high-rise buildings and low rise public housing. The road was half new, with the other
half cracked and bumpy due to age.
We finally reached our destination. Outside the steel and concrete building, there was a lot of different kinds of
trees, bushes and shrubs. It was in a secret location, perfect for hiding highly dangerous and flammable items.
There were a few guards outside the base, with their rifles cocked and ready to fire at anything that moved. I
shuddered as I moved past them, their creepy looking eyes looking down on me.
A person greeted us on the way in. He was called Jason. He seemed friendly enough for me to greet him,
although he was kind of puzzled to find me here. Falkland introduced both of us and he told us that he was the
co-manager of the central base.
Jason showed us around with infectious enthusiasm; sleeping quarters, canteen and other places.
“Jason?”
“What?”
“What is this place for?”