Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4 - 7 2018 | Page 162

I found myself lying in bed. It was soft, and comfortable. It took me a while to realise that I was no longer
in the desert. In fact, I was in a ward. I turned my head and saw my family gazing at me. Witnessing my
movements, my parents’ facial expressions changed from anxiety and worry to releif and joy. They held my
hand and whispered, “Glad to have you back, child.” I greeted my parents with a warm smile and a wave. It
was the largest extent of my body at that moment. I could not afford a cuddle.
After a few months, I began to compose stories and fantasies, just like the old times. This time, I learnt to
communicate, in other words, negotiate with my parents about my will and my greatest wish. Reluctantly,
they agreed. They claimed that they allowed me to do so because they had no choice. However, I thought
that it was all because of my persuasive speech about wanting to live my life to the fullest, but not dullest.
After all, the past cannot be altered, but the future can be ameliorated or improved. I promised myself never
to let oppression become the upper hand in my life and never let depression take hold of me.
Sometimes, my parents would express their worries over the severe traffic accident I had encountered
before. They would say,” If we had known about your idea of attending the fan meeting of the Journey to
the West in the Convention and Exhibition Centre, we could have forbidden you from going. The whole
chaos wouldn't have taken place.”
Then I would reply, “If the car crash hadn't happened, I wouldn't have embarked on the unique journey to
the West, and I wouldn't have learnt how to embrace my inner qualities and to insert the idea of self worth
into my mindset.”
Our family became more harmonious and our relationship was closer. Through our conversations, I was
inspired to publish a book telling my experience of hovering between life and death. I decided to name it
‘The New Journey to the West’.
Some may inquire whether my very own journey to the West is simply an illusion merged from my
subconscious mind during the trauma or a real life hovering between life and death. I would remark that I
am certain about it. They are all precious experiences which endue me a whole new perception and
enlighten me by conveying a note: Maybe living in the present moment is the best way of spending our
time. Life paves the way for us. So no need to worry, never doubt, as things such as death are never
controlled by us and are as always, unpredictable.
One thing that I am sure about is that the vast desert and I have one thing in common. We are both
boundless and limitless.