Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 281

Rooftop Fireworks
St. Margaret's Co-Educational English Secondary and Primary School (Secondary Section), Fung, Yana - 15
I
used to spend my days daydreaming, just sitting somewhere and disappearing into my own world. I would
have liked to spend hours sitting on the roof of my house, watching everyone and imagining a different life
for myself.
Of course, I didn’t have a lot of time for that. My mother was always there to chase the daydreams out of my
head. According to her, men didn’t like girls with too much imagination. She always said that the only time girls
needed their imagination was when they were thinking of names for their children. By the time I was old
enough to get married, I knew all about what men liked and didn’t like.
My future had been set into stone by my parents from the moment I was born. Eldest in my family and a girl, I
was to be my family’s ticket to a better life, out of poverty. My siblings learnt the practical skills of life, while I
became well-versed in dancing and singing. My parents relied on the fact that I would marry one of the rich
men of Shanghai and after that, I would never have to even lift a finger again. To them, I was equipped with the
most essential information, how to entertain my husband and how to bear beautiful, healthy children.
Thinking back to it, I resent them for never asking me what I wanted. It doesn’t seem very fair to me that I was
never given any say, although I don’t think they would have particularly cared for my opinion. But, back then, I
was an entirely different person with different values and not much experience of anything.
Now that I am married and grown, I think a lot about the time before I was married. Sometimes when it’s quiet
and I’m all alone, I think about the moment I first saw him. It doesn’t matter how many years have passed, I can
still remember it as if it happened yesterday and I can see him before me as clear as day. I remember thinking
how he looked like he was up to no good. The mischievous glint in his eyes, he looked around him as if he was
looking for something. Then, at lightning speed, he stretched out a hand and grabbed a pristine white bun of the
stall next to him. No one had seen him do it, none of the many people wandering in the street. I stared at him,
mouth agape, as he continued to look around him, probably looking for the next stall to rob. Suddenly, his eyes
landed on me and he realised that I had seen the entire thing. He easily wove through the throng of people
between us and came to a stop in front of me.
“Aren’t you going to tell on me?” He cocked an eyebrow at me, almost teasingly.
“Are you going to give the bun back?” I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly.
“No, of course not! I’m not an idiot.” He laughed slightly and looked at me like I was stupid.
“Why not? You can still apologize.”
“Because, you silly naive girl, then the owner will know I stole it.” He smiled down at me, he seemed much
more interested in me now, “You’ve never stolen anything before have you?”
“No, of course not! I’m not an idiot.” I echoed his words back to him and he smiled even wider. From
somewhere behind me I could hear my mother’s voice, shrill and impatient, shouting at me to stop idling and
wasting time.
“What is that noise?”
“That would be my mom”, I looked at the floor, feeling the embarrassment creep through me, “Well, I have to
go. She clearly needs me.”
“You’re right. See you around”, he looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to respond but I just shook my
head.
“I’m not going to tell a stranger my name!”
“Alright, as you like. See you around, stranger”, he said. “Although, I don’t think we actually are strangers
anymore. Seeing as I practically already know your mother from all the shouting she’s been doing.”