Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 | Page 6

1023
Carmel School Association Elsa High School, Goldberg, Tahlia - 13
Dear unknown,
Before reading this, be warned. This story might have a disturbing start but know that it has an even worse
ending. This story is even too painful for me to look at but I guess here I am. Writing to no one in
particular. So don’t say you weren’t warned. And now to the very beginning.
I don’t know where to start. It all just started from the first fire. The fire that set a different course for my
life. It was in the town square. I was playing with a group of kids. I killed thirty-seven of them. I didn’t
mean to. Really. I was just so upset. They had insulted me and it was the last straw. I am sick. I know. I
think I’ve always known. Since I was little, I was different.
Thirty-seven.
Since then I haven’t looked back. I tried to make a new life. I ran away, far away. I have changed my name
so many times since then that I don’t even remember what it is. All I know is that I have a gift. Really, a
sick gift. I can burn things. But really burn. With my hands. I don’t know how or why but you may already
know me as the burning man. A dragon to those of you in the future.
After that I ran for what seemed to be forever, and I finally found something that might help me. The Ming
voyages. It was my only chance to say goodbye to China and rid myself of the shame and start anew. A
clean slate. That was a mistake. But I’ll learn that soon enough. Just as the saying goes: if you can’t fight it,
embrace it. And I did exactly the opposite from that.
I survived three days onboard until I started a fire in the storage room. I didn’t mean to. I was just getting
supplies for my janitorial job. We were already docked somewhere to switch ships and I couldn’t stop it, so
before spreading it more, I left. Crying silently, I made my exit and saw the ship burning behind me. Sixty-
seven more. Sick to my stomach I added that to the thirty-seven from before.
One hundred and four. Innocent souls who didn’t deserve their fate.
On the next ship, I killed seventy-two.
One hundred seventy-six.
And on the third, I thought it would be different. I had even made a friend. I lasted there a week and a half
before having killed seventy-nine. No survivors on any of the ships. Please forgive me.
Two hundred and fifty-five.
After ship number five where I had already got to a total number of three hundred and eighteen. By then I
had decided enough was enough.
Through all the voyages, I had already gotten to Paris. By the time I got out, I convinced myself that it
wouldn’t happen again. No way. Wrong. I was so naïve to think that I could control myself. But I just
caused havoc and ended up running away again. Once I got out of Paris, I settled in some isolated farm in
the middle of nowhere. The owners had clearly abandoned it so why not?
It worked for a little while. I kept myself under control and didn’t let my emotions get the best of me. I
actually had hope. But after a while, it had faded and I was going back to my old ways. Looking and looking
everywhere, I had to find a permanent solution. and after looking for a long time, I found it, and it helped,
so who was I to argue?
I spent a couple of months on the farm but of course, our story hasn’t really even begun. This is where
things changed for the worse.