Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 255

The Wall of Old Shanghai
Po Leung Kuk Choi Kai Yau School, Hui, Jamie - 12
T
hat annoying ear-splitting whistle came again from the tour guide.
“This way, please!” He boomed at the group of chattering students. The guide stopped once in
awhile to explain the “beautiful history of Shanghai”, as he called it or “worthless bunch of stories”, as I
called it. He had been speaking well over 5 hours now, and the sun had propped itself at its highest point.
Amongst my classmates, my outfit made me look like the odd one out. Everyone wore a Shanghai-themed
T-shirt that was given to us earlier today except for me. I had refused to wear it. What was the point anyway? Shanghai
sounded like old news. Just take a look for yourself: Everywhere was stuffy and prone to claustrophobia. Once you
actually get through the crowds, all you can see is debris scattered around a shaft or what was once a large statue. It seemed
like no one had taken care of the place for eons, the walls were cracked and once in a while, the roof threatened to
crumble. The ground was overgrown with dying grass and weeds that managed to survive through the jagged cracks on
the ground.
“And now we have arrived at the wall of Shanghai. Did you know the wall used to protect the Chinese from the
pirates? Amazing, isn’t it?” The tour guide’s over enthusiasm was sickening, even from afar.
I crouched between a pile of stones and waited for them to pass as the tour guide ranted about the history of Old
Shanghai and how the wall took a lot of effort to make. I scoffed obnoxiously and almost let a laugh out when seeing the
mostly crumbled wall, “Oh please. This old thing? Seems like a toddler built a castle out of pebbles in two minutes.” I
crossed my arms and turned my nose at the so-called wall.
“Why don’t you try to build it then?” spoke someone. Their voice was as light as a feather, no more than a mere
breath, but it was laced with a hint of anger.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up straight. Who could’ve said that? I scanned the room, almost
expecting someone to pop out behind a tree or something. I waited to the count of ten.
Nothing.
I must’ve been hallucinating.
“All these cobweb-infested bits of trash are driving me insane,” I muttered to no one but someone else replied
with that same whispery tone, it sounded as if they were speaking through clenched teeth.
“How dare you? Insulting the treasure of Old Shanghai? Unforgivable, really. You deserve divine punishment
if only I was able to teach you a lesson physically…” The voice paused like they were thinking and I was too stunned for
words, for the voice was coming from the semi-collapsed wall.
“Well,” the voice finally said after a suspenseful pause, “I suppose a little twist in time could teach you a lesson.”
I backed up from the voice but it surrounded me instead, the word ‘lesson’ echoed through my head in a circular
motion. Black dots danced before my eyes and I felt my breathing go shallow. I gripped onto a small ledge of
consciousness but the words dragged me down with them and I spiralled into an unknown warp and everything went
dark.
The sun beat down, each ray singing the ground. Blurred figures moved by in a choppy motion, unnerved by
the heat. Sharp claps got my brain working again. I stumbled backwards, my feet felt numb and weak.