Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 2 -1 2019 | Page 188

A New Tale of the Ming Treasure Voyages
Kennedy School, Tse, Chloe - 10
The ocean waves were soothingly crushing up, then falling down. The noise was nice, but irritating, as it
kept repeating, sometimes louder, sometimes softer. A tall girl walked on the sand, her toes getting scratched
by the shells scattered around. She had long, jet-black hair, which flew lose in her face along with the
gentle breeze. Her skin was pale, but suited her. Her thin lips were in a light shade of crimson. But it was
the eyes, that looked. . .frightening. They were dark, and empty - hollow. There was always a glint in
them, which always made her look rather eerie. If it weren't for them, she would have looked beautiful.
She was covered in a black hooded cloak, and a thin short navy-blue dress. Her arms and feet were bare.
Her name was Evly.
She walked to the shore, letting bits of shell and dried-up sand prickle her feet. She sat down, letting the
salty water touch the tips of her toes every now and then. But then she heard footsteps.
Her mother and father were coming down, along with her two elder sisters, Alethia and Clarina. They both
had her eyes, her skin, her hair and mouth, but their eyes were gentle; Evly envied them for that. But her
father was carrying along a suitcase, which had no wheels - it was probably very heavy. He had a pair of
loose, baggy pants on, and a t-shirt. He also had a cloak, which was black. Evly’s mother gave her father
one last hug, before he picked up his suitcase and walked to the shore, to meet Alethia, Clarina and Evly.
He hugged Alethia and Clarina silently, trying not to ruin the moment. But Evly was clueless - why was he
carrying a suitcase? But before she could say anything, she too, was crushed into a huge hug. “Where are
you going to go, papa?” she whispered. He smiled. “Somewhere nice, I hope. But don’t worry. I’ll call you
every other night, okay? I’ll be back in just a month.” Evly smiled a fake smile. A month. A whole month.
At sea. With one suitcase. Without Evly. Or Alethia. Or Clarina.The one month part wasn’t that bad,
compared to how long her mother’s many journey’s took. But when he climbed into the huge ship, tears
began to well in her eyes. They slowly poured down her face, each one bigger than the next. Her father was
at sea! Absolutely anything could happen to him. But he’s going to be safe thought Evly. But he’s going to
be safe. He. Is. Going. To. Be. Safe. But she couldn’t take it anymore. She ran into the house, and up to her
room, slamming the door behind her, ignoring the voices of Alethia and Clarina. She cried into her bed for
hours, letting her tears run down her face.
*
“So, this is where all the portraits are kept,” I said, hustling the thirty-students fifth grade class in front of a
brand new painting and photo of my late father - and his instant family. It was my pride and joy. My
mother and father were standing up, with their hands on Alethia and Clarina’s shoulders. I was on a chair,
with my hair combed and gelled (It was strange to have tidy hair for once). “Why are you so obsessed with
Zheng He?” one of the kids asked. I smiled. “Believe it or not, my father knew Zheng He,” I said proudly.
“That painting is of me and my family, after he returned from his voyage!” The teacher looked at me, with
a kind look on her face. “ Sorry ,” she mouthed.
Why am I so obsessed with Zheng He, you ask? Well, that’s an easy question to answer.
Because he’s amazing. He was brilliant. He was brave.
He. . . was just like my father.