Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 328

The Garden Hidden Between Heaven and Earth
Shanghai American School, Wang, April - 14
A
lthough scraps of paper and cigarette butts dotted the ground, the street was homey and lived-in,
comfortable even. Little shops filled with colorful goods packed the sides of the street, and their
shopkeepers yelled out toward the crowd, trying to catch the attention of potential customers. But the
most striking thing was the activity of the people. A swarm of them bustled about, admiring the objects
on sale and bargaining with the shopkeepers. Streaks of red, blue, and green from people’s coats and bags colored the
scene. Some people were nicely dressed in thick, sturdy coats and wrapped in stylish scarves, while others had hastily
thrown on a sweater and an awkward hat. However, their constant, swift pace made up for their differences in
appearance. All the people moved with a destination in mind, a purpose to their bustling.
All but one girl. She had wide, green eyes that darted from shop to shop, dumbfounded by the strange
characters printed on the buildings. To her, the noise was deafening, unintelligible, overwhelming–nothing like the quiet
of her placid hometown. Incomprehensible words were exchanged between strangers. When the girl crossed the street, a
motorcycle brushed passed her, honking as it sped by. It seemed to know that it had encountered a foreigner, an alien.
The girl flinched and jumped up onto the sidewalk. It was then that she really noticed the garbage that littered the street,
and she wrinkled her nose. The smell of cigarettes and car gas suffocated her as if she was surrounded by a bubble of
pollution. It finally hit her that she had left her sweet, cozy home in the suburbs for an unknown city, an unknown
world.
The girl started aimlessly walking with the sea of people, allowing herself to be guided by those behind her.
She felt the people around her pushing and prodding her in different directions, though she was unsure of where to go.
Her feet stumbled forward while she spun her head wildly, looking for a familiar face, a familiar place to go. She
remembered that in her old home, she found her way easily. The words, the people, the streets–they all made sense to her.
Trying to distance herself from her overbearing parents, she had moved to the exciting city of Shanghai. Her old town
carried a sort of sorrow that she felt constantly weighing on her shoulders. The girl had gotten sick of the same pitying
looks from neighbors who pretended to know her and the same lonely grass, rolling on and on over the horizon,
trapping her in its endless monotony. Now, however, she would do anything to get away from the chaotic city and crawl
back to the warm embrace of familiarity.
But alas, she couldn’t undo the miles she had put between herself and her old home. So even though the girl
wanted to seem composed, her eyes gave her away. They were full of alarm as she mulled over her regrets. Remaining
inconspicuous felt impossible; she had never felt so out of place. Looking to find someone similar to her, she shifted her
eyes left and right at the people beside her, but she was only met with dozens of strangers that blended perfectly into the
crowd. Exasperated, the girl ran her fingers through her hair, trying desperately to calm her racing heart.
Suddenly, she spotted an alley, the one place where darkness seemed to swallow the colors of the street, and
froze. The people behind her grumbled in irritation, and their shoulders nudged her to continue. The girl staggered
forward, her green eyes fixed on her new discovery. Regaining her balance, she walked in the direction of the darkness.
Slumped on a rickety stool next to a doorway was an old man with wrinkles lining his forehead. He watched the girl as
she made her way through the crowd and came to a stop when she reached the alley. The crowd of people bumped into
her, shoving her into the alley. Immediately, she felt the weight of an eerie silence, blanketing her in its wake. The girl
glanced back at the entrance of the alley, eyeing the steady flow of people and wondering whether she should continue.
Soon, her eyes wandered away from the street and traveled up and down the walls enclosing her in the small
space. They were peeling; hints of spray paint danced along the surfaces. Trying to make sense of the graffiti, the girl
squinted in the dark but only saw markings haphazardly clumped together. As she walked along the alley, the
unrecognizable shapes separated themselves into individual words and phrases. Her hands trailed the walls, and the layer
of dust that coated the surfaces disappeared at the touch of her fingertips. The darkness reminded her of her brother’s