Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 2020complete | Page 506

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 I have finally finished my work. I head home the exact same route as it’s always
been and as it always will be. I take the metro for exactly 46 minutes on the green line, by 10:00 pm I arrive
at my station. By 10:08 pm I am walking the 12 minute journey home.
She would have hated me for this, she lived each day spontaneously, my life was anything but spontaneous. I
have blocked that chapter of my life out but every so often at a late hour when I am walking home all alone,
and all the trees and roads are silent, I can’t help but think what my life would have been like if she was still
here. The roads are empty and dark, a car passes on average once every four minutes. Each person in each of
those cars has lived a life, each of those people has experienced grief or love, they have experienced emotion
just as any other human being. Yet each second in the last thousands of years had to align perfectly in order
for them to be in that car at that exact time, all the grief and love they have felt has got them to this exact
moment driving on this street. So when I had been walking for eight minutes and the second car that drove
by me stopped right next to me, I knew that every event in their lives and mine had aligned perfectly for us
to bump into one another, because these things are more than an accident.