Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 399

I Know a Place
Harrow International School Hong Kong, Chen, Joy - 14
Moonlight poured from the abyss above like milk from the hands of an angel, illuminating the ethereal
scene below. On the Tsing Ma bridge suspended above the water, millions of figures clothed in pure white
drifted around in circles, seemingly hypnotized. The murmurs under their breaths no louder than the whisper of
a slight breeze whisking through the beams of the bridge. Lifting the cloaks of the worshippers off the ground,
the draft created a whirlwind of white fabric which carried with it the fragrance of the earth- fresh after the
cleansing from the rain. In the midst of the mesmerized crowd held captive by faith, a loping figure darted
through the crowd, splattering drops of garish red paint onto the pristine white cotton. Suddenly, all hell broke
loose as screams of agony unravelled the serene night into chaos. All around the highway, people toppled over
each other, desperately trying to wipe off the horrifying colour that had infected their robes. A few determined
people even disappearing right over the safety barriers in an attempt to rinse their robes in the frigid sea. Joining
up with Li Jiang in an alleyway nearby, we escaped into the cool evening, letting out muted whoops of
exhilaration.
The next day, I woke up to the artificial sunlight streaming through my tiny window, revealing dust
particles dancing in the golden light. With droopy eyes and a mind still fuzzy from sleep, I sat up. Just then, the
automated chime sounded, signalling to everyone in the Greater Bay Area that it was time for the compulsory
morning prayer. From all around me, the thud of heads bowing onto the ground could be heard. Ever since
anyone could remember, the worship of the god Tong had become crucial in the functionality of society. A few
moments later, the first prayer of the day was over. Sounds from the holo-screen drifted up to my room along
with the acrid bitter smell of instant coffee my parents were brewing. Through my door, I could hear snippets of
the news channel they loved.
“Last night, during the annual Cleansing, there was an enormous pandemonium. The cause appeared to have
been due to rioters spilling red paint and staining the holy cloth of the people. One of them appears to be a
juvenile boy, Li Jiang, the identity of the other agitator is still unknown.”
I glanced down at my hands, still tinted crimson from the night before.
“Ying Yue, you’re going to be late for school!” Without warning, my mother burst through the door.
Seeing me sitting in the middle of my floor, silent and studying my hands, she looked down to where my gaze
was. I was caught. Red-handed. Crestfallen, she looked back up into my eyes, her stare was so intense it made
me squirm in discomfort. She let out a long forlorn sigh; it felt as if she had been holding her breath for an entire
lifetime. My mother lifted her phone to her ear, alerting the authorities of the criminal that she had raised.
Shaking her head, my mother shot me one last reproachful glance and left the room. I had disappointed her for
the last time.
Breakfast was subdued. No one dared look at each other. Hurriedly, I grabbed my bag, slipping out of
the front door and off to school.
As soon as I sat down in the computer pod for my first lesson of the day, I was asked to be brought to
the office. Li Jiang and I were told to sit still and wait. We sat opposite each other in the dingy office. We sat in a
silence so complete that I could hear the blood rushing through my head. On the windowsill, a dragonfly
twitched helplessly, trying to free one of its wings from where it was crushed. We watched the dragonfly
struggling for a while, buzzing ever so slightly- a feeble whisper for help- until dreadfully, it went still.
Suddenly, I felt a kick at my foot. Li Jiang was motioning at me to lean in. His breath tickled my ear. : “Well, are
we running or not?”
Spotting a slight gap in the window next to a garish green plant, I started to inch towards it, Li Jiang
following my lead. Closer. Just a bit closer. As if we had read each other’s minds, we simultaneously made a mad
dash for the window, slipping out of the institution’s control. We dodged through self-driven cars, side-stepped
unsmiling businessmen in flapping suit jackets and slid through moving sidewalks.