Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction 4567 | Page 175

The New Tales of Old Shanghai - The Diary
Malvern College Qingdao, Liu, Sofia - 14
“N
o, no, grandpa, please don’t leave me alone!” I held the frozen body of my grandpa tightly. I just
wanted to stay by his side for one more minute, but the doctor pulled me out of the mortuary without
mercy, and the door slammed in my face. I kneeled beside the door, knocking the door really hard and shouting
continuously. There was no response.
Then, I woke up. It was the middle of the night and I had the same nightmare over and over again since my
grandfather had passed away. I got up and walked around the house. My grandfather used to comfort me when I
had a nightmare. He wasn’t around anymore to do that. Silence surrounded me instead. A sense of sadness ran
through my body - I had lost him forever.
My grandfather was not my real grandfather. I was an orphan. At the age of six, he adopted me from the
orphanage. His son, daughter-in-law and his unborn grandson died in a car accident two years before. So, I was
the only family he had, and he was my only family as well. It’s so hard to imagine life without him.
I kept walking around the house trying to clear my head but couldn’t seem to shake the sense of grief. When I
walked to the living room, I could see my grandfather sitting on the sofa and reading me stories just a few weeks
ago. He had such a kind smile. I swooped down on him, but the vision of him disappeared and I was let crying
into a cold, dusty sofa. I was alone again and history was repeating itself – I was orphaned once more.
In his will, he left me money to live off and his book collection. There were thousands of them. I don’t
understand why he left his books to me. I walked to his study, picked up a book and turned page after page until
I lost focus. I suddenly thought of my grandfather’s last words. He was so weak at the time. He held my hands
tightly and said, “Shirley, there is something I have always wanted to tell you… but now it seems like I don’t
have enough time to tell you all the story by myself. I have written it down in my diary, which I locked behind
my bookshelf. Please find it.”
He released my hands immediately after saying that.
The morning sunlight poured in through the windows onto my face and I remembered his words. It was like he
was looking over me in that moment. I ran to do the bookshelf and peered behind it, expecting to find the tat
that usually goes missing around the house but instead, I saw an ancient wooden box. I dusted it off and opened
it carefully. A yellowing timeworn diary was lying in the bottom of the box. I picked it up and turned it over
and started to read…
3 rd May, 1973
Mum’s cough disease is getting worse and worse every day. She won’t stop coughing…I even saw her cough up
blood the other day.
Dad is very worried about her. He asked the best doctor in Shanghai to come and treat her but the response was
bleak. The doctor said that my mum doesn’t have much time left. Then, he left shutting the door behind us to
contemplate what we should do next. We couldn’t believe it, especially dad. I don’t think he wants to believe it.
The moon is full and bright and the wind is so cold it reaches my bones. It is bound to be a sleepless night. I sit
under the eave in the chilly wind. Tears pour out of my eyes. I pray to the God to do something for her.