Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 3 2018 | Page 233

New Journey to the West
Shanghai Singapore Internatinoal School, Panda, Anouska - 12
E
sther Martinez took her horse (Champion) to the village stables. She gave him fresh new carrots to
feed on. Champion seemed to be enjoying all the tasty delights until a piercing scream filled the
stables. Esther whirled around, her hand full of carrots feeding Champion. It was Aunt Martha.
“How dare you bring a horse in here!” aunt Martha bellowed. Esther widened her eyes and stared at her. “I
just bought a horse, Aunt Martha. It’s not like I’ve committed a crime, is it?” Esther clasped a hand over her
mouth. “Out of here. NOW.” The sternness in her voice made Esther flinch. She ran out of the stables and
into her little house. Esther went into her room, surprised to see a package on her bed. It was beautifully
wrapped with flowery print paper. Esther looked back and forth in her room, to see if this was anyone’s. She
took little silent steps to her bed, as if she was stealing something. Esther clambered onto her bed and took
the parcel in her lap.
She ran her hands through the silky surface of the paper. Esther tried to feel what was inside the package. It
seemed like a book of some sort to her. Esther opened the package immediately. Books are what she always
wanted. As soon as she opened the book, a strong feeling engulfed her from head to toe. The book was
filled with empty parchments. The papers were wrinkled and old. They had a tinge of yellowish-like color
at the brim. There wasn’t a single piece of writing on it. This puzzled Esther. Esther looked in the package if
there was anything else. There was. A feather quill along with jet black ink in a fancy bottle. Esther touched
the feather quill. The feather looked like an eagle’s feather.
Then something clicked in her mind. Maybe she was supposed to write on the book. She uncorked the
inkbottle and took a nip of it using her quill. At last, she wrote ‘Hello, my name is Esther’ on the paper. The
ink went through the paper. Had she been imagining? Esther shook her head in disbelief. She flipped the
page and saw there was writing on it. It said, ‘Hello, Esther. I am Variel. Ask me anything and I’ll answer’.
Again, using the quill, she wrote: ‘My father went to fight in the Chinese war. Is he still alive?’ Variel took
time to answer. After some time, writing appeared. ‘Yes, I think.’ Esther squealed. ‘How could I bring him
back’ Esther scribbled. Once more, writing appeared. ‘I cannot give you all the answers to life, child. But I
must ask you, has anyone told you anything about you being a descendant?’ Esther was taken aback for a
moment. ‘You are the descendant of the greatest hero ever born in Chinese history. Of course, I am talking
about Xuan Zhang’ Esther stared at the book in bewilderment. ‘Wasn’t he a monk?’ Esther wrote, ink
splattered on her hands since she was writing so fast. ‘Yes he was. But surprisingly, his noble blood runs in
your veins.’ Esther looked at her arms.
‘So what