Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 - 2017 | Page 480

ground shakes and the ceiling caves in on us. I try to see Mei and Mama but there is nothing but blackness in front of me. I can’t move. It’s agonising to breathe. My head hurts. I black out. I open my eyes to bright light and I can’t remember anything. What has happened? Why am I lying in this white room full of people in masks and caps staring down at me? There is a needle sticking out of my arm that is connected to a bag with some type of liquid in it. My arms and legs are wrapped up with some type of cloth and I can’t move them. “She’s awake!” Someone whispers, A woman in a long white coat shuffles through the crowded room, and takes my hand. “Do you remember anything? I’m Nancy.” She asks in a gentle voice, I stare back at her blankly. Then reply, “No.” “You were hiding from a bomb attack with your sister and mother. Thankfully, you all are alive and awake, however when your sister was trying to protect you, she banged her head hard in the process. She is in critical condition. She lost her consciousness and she is now still in coma. Now, how are you feeling? You will be alright though, but your left arm is broken and your right foot is twisted really badly.” I look down at all my bandages, to numb say anything. Then everything comes back to me. After a moment of silence, I muster the courage and finally ask, “Where is Mei?” “Across the hall, but you can’t see her right now.” “Oh.” It was a long day for me, and although I was being forced to rest, the thought that the most important person in my life was in critical danger did not let me fall asleep. I stayed awake, staring anxiously at the ceiling for hours, remembering. But in the end, my eyelids felt as heavy as boulders and I dropped into sleep. The next day, Nancy comes in to check on me, her face serious. “Hua, I can take you to see your mother. She has something to tell you.” A wave of sadness rolls over me “Wha---?” Somehow, I knew what was coming. She wheeled me in a chair over to another room, where I saw my mother lying on a bed, hugging her pillow. As soon as she sees me, she crumples into tears. I awkwardly lean over and hug her, but I didn’t need to be told anything. My beautiful, caring sister, Mei, was gone. To the end, she looked out for me, cared for me with her whole being. I gripped my mother’s hand and sobbed, thinking only of my last Saturday School outing with Mei.