Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 386

We packed all the things we need and set off towards Macau, John leading the way. We passed streets that turned
into graveyards, buildings that turned into ruins while the sky was just a grey cloud of ash, glooming over us.
Corpses were being eaten by rats and crows. The only thing we could hear was our footsteps ambling on. John
said that it wasn’t far left.
We were on our last bottle when it happened. John collapsed on to the ground, I ran over to him. His face
looked pale, only color that was visible grey dust attached to his skin. “I can’t. I’m d…done Ben. Go…without
me. I’ll just be hol…holding you back. Use what’s left of…of the w…water wisely.” John uttered. “I can’t let
you stay here John,” I whispered, I felt my right eye was beginning to water, he saved me, I can’t leave him to
die here, “No.” I took John’s left arm and wrapped it around my neck on to my left shoulder. “Come on John.
We can do this. Together.” I slowly walked on with John holding on to me breathing heavily. Then, not far
away, I saw the building. I saw the red circle. I saw hope. “John we’re almost there,” I managed to say.
However, my legs were too tired. Just keep walking Ben I thought. Just keep walking. After that, I felt my legs
suddenly tense up. It was painful. I fell on to the ground. I looked to the sky. One last glimpse……
“Is that all you can remember?” The person across the table asked.
“Yes.” I replied, thinking hard if there was anything I missed, at the same wondering why he was so interested.
“Where am I?”
“You’re in Hong Kong.” I’m in Hong Kong. Everything was unknown about Hong Kong. No one knew
anything about Hong Kong. And now I’m here.
“Where’s John?” I desperately questioned.
“He doesn’t exist.” I felt something drop in my stomach. John…he’s dead. He’s dead. I was full of guilt. He
saved me. I didn’t save him. He saved me……But why did he say that he “doesn’t exist” rather than “he’s
dead”? “He doesn’t exist?” I tested him.
“There is something that we must tell you soldier,” at the word soldier my hands flinched, why am I a soldier?
Do I have to fight? If yes, fight who? If no, what do soldiers do?
“What do you mean?”
“We programmed illusions in your head. Everything that you remember is an illusion. Everything. Since you
woke up in that death ground. Now, you have proven to us that you are a skilled survivor.”
I froze with terror. This was all fake? How could that be? A million questions flew into my head. I carefully
stood up, still confused.
“Was John also just an illusion then?”
“Yes.”
“What was happening to me, the real me, when I experienced those…illusions,” saying that word was so hard,
knowing all of what I’ve seen was fake.
“You were kept here, in one of our coma tombs.”
“How long was I gone for?” I asked
“About six months,” The man replied
“Who was I in the real world before those illusions were put into me here?” I asked, in disarray.
“Your memory has been wiped, that’s all you need to know.”
“Why…why have you done this?”
“Step outside soldier and then you will be informed of what to do next. Through that door.” He pointed at the
door to my left. Suddenly, I thought of something. Something horrifying. Something terrible. Something
frightening. I slowly walked towards it, praying that it wasn’t what I thought. I pulled it open. The outside
looked very familiar. Identical.