Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 3 2018 | Page 352

Camisado
St. Paul's Convent School (Secondary Section), Choi, Lok Yin -14
M
ari collapsed on the quickly chilling sand, exhausted. It had been days since she started lugging
herself step by step through the harsh Gobi desert. Then she spent a good few hours figuring out
how to set the flimsy tent up. With beginner’s luck, she succeeded, but not before she wore
herself out by tying knots she didn’t even know existed. In her blind rage when she commenced her
spontaneous trek, she hadn’t packed much, save for the basic necessities. Water, non-perishables, a couple
sets of clothes, a small dagger, and of course, the polyester shelter where she was going to rest for the night.
The temperature was dropping rapidly, and Mari shivered in response. She wanted to be alert, but she knew
if she didn’t at least close her eyes, she would drop dead from fatigue sooner or later. She finally let her
thoughts lull her into an uneasy, yet much needed, slumber.
Indeed, the desert and the clear skies were not a usual sight in the city where Mari resided, but she was
growing tired of it. There was nothing but yellow sand for miles as she trudged along. Despite her increasing
boredom from the repetitive landscape, she clasped her dagger tightly, her only defence and source of
comfort from her insignificance and vulnerability out in the open. She had every right to be wary of the
many invisible dangers lurking in the dunes. She had narrowly escaped death once, and she refused to come
so close to the Reaper again before she completed her mission. Serpents were to be treated as venomous,
no matter what.
By day 72, she was almost certain that she was going insane from the lack of human contact. So when she
finally encountered a small settlement, her heart swelled. Unfortunately, she reached the nomadic huts in the
dark of the night, and with shouts of “Thief! Thief!” she was forced to flee from the flaming arrows flying
towards her.
Mari had lost count of time when she stumbled towards the Pakistani border that was getting nearer and
nearer with every wobbly step. She hadn’t allowed herself many breaks, in fear that it would be too late. She
couldn’t let her only chance slip away in front of her very eyes. With occasional help from travellers and
locals, she was able to survive the gruelling weeks (months, maybe?) to India. All that was left to do was to
sneak on a cross-country train, and she would be right where she wanted herself to be. Landour,
Uttarakhand, India.
Safely hidden betwixt two shabby wooden crates, she relaxed at last. She gazed sadly at the worn photo in
her wallet, a stray tear rolling down a bruised, wind-beaten cheek. “I’m almost there, Mama,” she
whispered, “I will avenge you.”
The deafening horn jolted her awake. Her neck was stiff and her back ached from curling into such a
contorted position. She recognized the lush, rolling mountains and immediately hopped off, silent as a
phantom soul. No one would ever know she was there. She managed to climb over the wire fencing, but a
guard caught sight of her suspicious movements.
“Oi! Who are you? Nobody is supposed to be here! State your identity at once!”
Mari ignored him. The guard called out to her once again before realising that she wasn’t going to reply.
Then, after a moment’s hesitation, he began chasing after her rapidly retreating figure. His clumsy jog was
no match for her agility. She lead the guard onwards and faked a turn into an alley, then made a sharp right,
leaping to grab onto a ledge before pulling herself up and on the roof, all within seconds. He could only
stare slack-jawed at her disappearing silhouette, only the gleam of the blade by her side a fleeting piece of
evidence that she wasn’t a hallucination.
She quickly learned that travelling via rooftop was the fastest, stealthiest way to get around. She had
perfected her precision and timing, and kept her time on the ground at a minimum, merely coming down
to steal—“borrow” food from the market stalls. In her defense, she was going to pay them back when she
had the money. In the meantime, she spent her time planning, observing, waiting…