Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 181

“Come on then, we must tell the others and find a new place to stay. They’ll be onto us, the whole city
looking for you.”
27/12/2016
‘Who is it?’ ‘Who did it?’ questions circle around the ever-growing crowd. She stamps her foot, getting
more and more agitated at the questions, and anxious for her brother to find her. Where is he? When I
need him most, he disappears. Angry thoughts fill her head. It was her fault; she should have looked after
her more; checked the shadows for people. It was her job, and she’d failed. She’d known that people were
after her; she’d just not thought that they would kill her. It was her fault. Silent tears ran down her cheeks,
and her short black hair hung limp and greasy. And finally the shout of her name.
26/12/2013
They ran through the tightly packed crowd. Weaving in and out of people, trying to find the others, the
blaring lights and excited rapid chatting distracting them. Soon they were sitting in an old cafe on the side
of the street, completely disorientated and lost. Mariella pulls a phone out of her pocket, it’s shiny and new,
and definitely not hers. ‘Where did you get that from?’ asks Luciana. Mariella shrugs, and replies ‘Places.’
They sit in silence, as Mariella tries phoning the one phone that all five of them own. Her eyes flick up to
meet Luciana’s, ‘They’re not answering.’ Luciana’s eyes fill with panic, it was her mess, and now the others
were potentially in danger. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll find them and warn them,” but Mariella’s soothing voice
did nothing to calm the panicked thoughts racing through Luciana’s head.
They were sitting on the porch of a derelict building in the back streets of the old city, Luciana’s fingers
were tracing the patterns imprinted into the concrete, and suddenly she lifts her head and looks straight at
Mariella. ‘You mentioned the … the woman’s name earlier on - who is she?’ Mariella’s eyes flitted down
to her hands, ‘Er … she was just someone I used to know.’ She said hoping that it was enough for Luciana,
but knowing that it wasn’t; Luciana always pressed for more information. Luciana rolls her eyes, ‘Her name.
Please Mariella, it’s not much. You owe it to me.’ Mariella’s laughs fill the air, cold and sarcastic, ‘I don’t
owe anything to you. You’re the one who’s got us in this trouble. I couldn’t care less if you were found
dead in the morning, because you were the one who messed with her, and you’re the one who should have
to pay for it.’ Luciana’s eyes fill with tears, ‘Well, maybe if you’d told me that she was here then I wouldn’t
have stolen her wallet. You’re the one who knows her, how was I to know that she would … would, I
don’t know maybe try to kill me.’ Luciana’s words cut Mariella like a knife, ‘I’m sorry I was just over
exaggerating; of course she won’t try to kill you. You just … don’t want to be caught. Anyway if you really
want to know her name, it’s Cecilia Yeung.’
Luciana sat on the edge of the pavement, alone; Mariella had gone off to find her brother, and the others
were nowhere to be seen. The sound of footsteps patters down the empty street. She looks around, seeing a
shadow move into the darkness surrounding her, the now silent street making her feel uncomfortable. She
curls her feet up, folding her knees into her body, looking at the moon, a precious pearl in the vast ocean of
darkness. The footsteps start again, making her jump, as she stands to her feet. A woman approaches her, her
hair swinging in a neat ponytail, her high-heels clicking. The moonlight illuminates her face, and as
Luciana’s eyes rise to meet hers, the bang of a bullet echoes down the street. Her body lies there,
glassy-eyed and mouth wide open in a scream for help.