Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4-7 2019 | Page 75

We had defeated the pirates! I turned my back to the dead body of the pirate I had just killed and cheered. My crew
mates joined in as we shouted and laughed, enjoying our brilliant victory. And then suddenly, I felt it. The blade, biting
into my flesh. Blood spurted as my limb dropped to the floor.
I’d lost my arm, Xin.
It was sliced off by the pirate’s sharp sword. The pirate I had “killed” came up behind me and ripped it away from the
rest of my body. I let it be swept away from me. It was so absurd and naive of me to think I had actually killed him.
Blood poured out of the stub all over the deck, it was leaking out of me, no-one could help. I felt a sharp pain
spreading all through my body. It burned Xin, so much, I couldn’t breathe. Losing all my senses, I collapsed onto the
hard floor and everything around me looked distorted. I could hear the strange voices of my crew, they were screaming.
I tried to reach out to them but they were so far away. The pain was coming from everywhere, I couldn’t take it
anymore. I closed my eyes with the image of the pirate in my mind. His dirty face up close to mine, his nauseating, hot
breath forcefully blown onto my face, his laughter echoing through my head, the bloody sword spinning around in
front of me. Then everything went black.
I awoke in a strange bed, my chest rising and falling quickly as I gasped for air. For a moment I had forgotten all about
what had happened until I looked out of the corner of my left eye to see an empty space where my arm should’ve been.
I didn’t care that we had won, I didn’t care how much treasure we saved. All I could think about was how I let you
down. Now, I lie here in this bed, writing this letter. I’m so sorry. I never meant for anything to happen to me. The
plan was always to make it back to you. For you to run into my arms while I stand on the dock, smelling the sweet
smell of daisies from your favorite soap. For my pale and coarse hands to interlock with yours, pink and smooth, and for
my fingers to run through your charcoal black hair as you rest your head on my shoulder. I’m frightened that this will
no longer be possible. I won’t be able to hold you tight or support you anymore. I don’t know what else to say. What
can I say?
I’m sorry.
Tears are cascading down my cheeks and falling onto these precious papers, smudging the heartfelt words I have
written. My hand is unsteady, my fingers are cold and numb, writing is proving to be a challenge. I dream of the long
walks in the park we used to take, watching the little kids playing with their kites, wondering if we would ever have
kids of our own. I dream of the picnics we had underneath the star-filled sky, eating delicious foods you prepared for
us. I dream of the strolls we took by the river and the wide smile you had on your face when I told you “I love you”. I
dream of our wedding in a couple of years. I was going to propose when I got back. I would watch you walk down the
aisle and admire your beauty in a silk dress as you take my breath away. I love you, Xin. I always will, and I will keep
fighting to come back to you. Always.