Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 3 2018 | Page 253

Xiwang Forest
St Paul's Convent School, Gamboa, Diana -12
I
couldn’t remember the last time I left the office at the time. Each day was the day before and the day
after was the day before. Each moment of my life was comprised of 3 main routines: eat, work and
sleep. The years, months and days meshed into one blurry memory and the clearest image I could make
out of the severe mediocrity of my previous life was one event: the tram ride.
*
“Goodbye,” I whispered softly to my small apartment. The warm luminosity from the outside
illuminated the living room, painting it with darkness and brightness. I enjoyed days like this as my floor
didn’t usually catch the daylight as pleasingly. My thin hands flicked the switch upwards and the apartment
darkened as the sunlight faded away. As I was following the dwindled green of the pavement of the 21st
floor corridor, I heard a faint sound of drops of water dripping which serenaded me like a mother’s song
until the rusty elevator reached my floor. I felt camouflaged as my grey outfit and jacket matched with the
elevator’s old metal stains and corners. I exited my congregated apartment complex, clutching onto my
black suitcase and waited next to the long tram stop in front of the building. It was particularly urbanised
with establishments, convenience stores, markets and other types of buildings. The street bricks were a faded
colour of maroon and in between the cracks were usually leftover ashes of used cigarettes, small pieces of
plastic and paper as well as rough dirt. I concentrated on documenting my surroundings until I saw the
tram’s rickety rectangular form in the distance. I hopped onto the tram and greeted the old driver before
ascending to the top part. The tram always passed by Xiwang forest and the trees would change their colours
depending on what season it was. Sometimes, pastel flowers would sprout on the foot of the towering trees
and blend in with the grass like a Claude Monet painting. The trees rustled and greeted me as my tram
swiftly flowed through its path to my destination. The number of trees dwindled and what was left were the
fallen leaves and green bushes. I reached my mountainous office building which loomed over anyone as if it
were watching every step of each person entering the building.
It was professional. It was clean. It was polished. It was cold. It was hard. I got onto the elevator
and stared straight. I went to my cubicle and worked. After that, I worked. I worked until it was 10 o’clock.
It was 10 o’clock. I got onto the elevator and descended. I left the establishment.
As I traipsed along the sidewalk, the building’s luminescent lights guided my path to the tram stop.
Darkness swallowed the rest of the world as the moonlight shone on the tram tracks. The soft rustle of the
trees kept me company for a while until the tram’s lights disturbed the area’s solemn peace. Soon, the tram
replaced the stillness with a rupture of noise and brightness. I quickly boarded the rickety tram and went up
the top floor. Xiwang forest looked more alluring during the deep hours of the night when the radiance of
the moon hit the area just right. My preference of dusk over dawn was derived from how the forest showed
itself to me. The odd calmness of the sea of trees washed over me as I admired the view. The flow of the
silhouette of trees suddenly halted.
“Hello?” I whispered against the windy air. I gathered my pace as I approached the driver’s seat and
found a scrawny wrinkly Buddhist monk ready to depart.
“Hello? Excuse me, we haven’t reached the terminus yet. I have to get home.”
“I’ve already reached my destination, young woman.”
My face grimaced into a look of perplexion and confusion. The monk’s left foot had already
touched the soil next to the tracks.
“Sorry? I just have to get home. This is the only tram available tonight.”
“Follow the tracks. You’ll find your way to your destination,” the monk murmured sagaciously.
“But I-”
The monk’s shadow had already ran into the forest, leaving me alone along the tracks.
“Hey! I need some help could you please let me know if there’s any other way!” I shouted into the
forest as I attempted to catch up to him. The dead leaves beneath me were crushed and caught the long
stature of his shadow quite well. Each step tore my withered flat shoes and the sleeves of my grey jacket
were attempting to catch up to the rest of my body. Every breath of my dry pants rang through my ears as I
listened to the strong wind push against them. It was a deafening experience. The blackness of the night sky
was slowly engulfing the area and the silhouette was steadily consumed by the shadows of the