Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 38

Time is gone! All I do is walk. It feels like forever. I pass people every so often, but no matter how hard I try to
talk to them, I can’t. It is like a dark power stops me from making contact. Is this my punishment for the worst sin?
To walk in the afterlife forever in eternal darkness?
Finally, I bump into a man who looks like a monk. A thought comes to my head. Why is a monk here? He has a
slight glow to him so I can see his face. A bald head. A ring of gold around his head. It is Ksitigarbha! I am meeting
the God of Redemption!
“You have earned better than this my child,” he gently says.
“I just want to dance in peace!” I remark as I look into Ksitigarbha’s eyes, fighting back my tears.
“Then dance you shall! A young death is always a sad thing!” he replies. He gives me a compassionate look.
With a
swoop of his staff, I am back.
Back at The Paramount. The place of my death! On the cursed fourth floor. My father told me never to trust the
number four. The room seems different, though I have not been gone long or so I think. Walking to the piano
where on top I find a newspaper dated March 2nd, 1943.
The headlines reads, ‘Japanese Pulling Out.’
The newspaper looks a bit battered but it is from
two old.
“China Press” so I know it is dependable. I assume it is a week or
I walk to the floor and do a small twirl. My feet feel rough, but against the smooth dance floor, I spin with ease. It
feels so good! I am all alone, dancing around the room. I hardly notice the door open.
I just finish a twirl when a man and a woman enter hand in hand. Their jaws drop. The woman lets out a piercing
scream that breaks me out of my dancing daze. The couple bolts out of the room as fast as they can.